Tag Archives: love

February 13, 2017 · 6:15 am

A Personal Story The Day Before Valentine’s Day

It’s the day before Valentine’s Day. For spouses, lovers, mistresses, and fuck buddies, it’s almost time to begin a day of romance. There will be kissing, chocolate, love-making, and just plain fucking, although not necessarily in that order. It’s a beautiful thing. I don’t deny that. As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, I have a strong appreciation for all the things that Valentine’s Day represents.

That said, it’s also my least favorite holiday and has been for a while now. I know I’m not alone either. Some have gone so far as to create an entirely new holiday called “Singles Awareness Day” to balance out all the annoying reminders that Valentine’s Day gives. It’s basically a weaker version of Festivus, minus the famous Seinfeld connotations.

Now I don’t take my disdain of Valentine’s Day quite that far. I don’t believe that creating one bullshit holiday to counter another is that productive. It also doesn’t change the underlying reasons why many people hate Valentine’s Day.

For many, Valentine’s Day is a harsh reminder that finding love is hard for a lot of people. Let’s face it. If you’re a pretty, young woman with big tits or a handsome young man with a fat wallet, finding love is easy. You can walk down the street in a thong and you’ll probably find someone to celebrate a holiday with. It’s just that easy.

For the rest of us, though, we don’t have that luxury. We’re at the mercy of our circumstances and some of us don’t handle those circumstances very well. In fact, we find ways to make them worse, even when we don’t have to.

In that spirit, as well as the spirit of those who would rather spend this Hallmark Holiday drunk, I’d like to share a little anecdote that should help explain why Valentine’s Day is so difficult for me.

I’ve gotten personal on this blog before. I’ve confessed to sleeping naked and shared a story about my first trip to Las Vegas. Those stories have some inherent sexiness to them. Unfortunately, there’s nothing sexy about this one. It’s mostly just somber recollection of a very lonely part of my life, long before I ever had an outlet in erotica/romance.

It happened when I was a teenager in high school, also known as my extended stay in Hell. I’ll probably say this many times on this blog, but it’s worth emphasizing. I hated high school. I was absolutely miserable. I wasn’t just a whiny, self-loathing teenager. I basically went out of my way to be miserable. It’s even more pathetic than it sounds.

This particular story highlights just how bad it got for me. It happened right around January of my freshman year, which also happened to be the year I developed a horrible acne problem that plagued me for most of my teenage life. So I was already feeling pretty bad about myself to begin with. However, being the miserable little fuck I was, I just had to make it worse.

During this time, we had a major snowstorm, which happens pretty often in my part of the country. We get at least two a year and this one was probably the biggest of the year. The whole neighborhood was a winter wonderland. It would’ve been so pretty if I weren’t such a miserable little shit.

In addition to the snow, it was colder than a snowman’s nut-sack in the morning. Given how early class started, I had to be out at the bus stop at around 6:30 a.m. Remember, this is the middle of winter. It’s still dark out and most of my body is still asleep.

Why is this relevant? Well, it matters because the bus stop I stood at was just across the street from my house. The neighbors were nice and our families got along. So when it was so damn cold and dark out, they would let me and the other kids stay indoors where it was warm. It was a good deal. The kids in my neighborhood were all very nice and friendly. I had no reason at all deny such a generous offer.

Then, I remembered that I was a miserable, self-loathing teenager who had the social skills of a brain-dead fish. Even when the weather was nice, I never talked to anyone. I never tried to strike up a conversation. I would literally spend an entire morning not saying a goddamn word to anybody. The most I did was stare at my shoes and daydream about not being in high school.

As a result, I didn’t take my neighbors up on their generosity. I just remained out there by the curb in the freezing cold, shivering to myself and finding more reasons to be miserable. All the while, the other kids at my bus stop stayed indoors and stayed warm. They probably even chatted, supporting one another in any way they could, knowing that high school always found new ways to make teenagers miserable.

I really could’ve used that support. I really could’ve used friends like that. I believe that if I had chosen to hang out with them while we waited for the bus, I probably would’ve been less miserable in addition to being warmer. They probably wouldn’t have said a word about my acne problem. They were teenagers, but most of them weren’t assholes.

Sadly, I just decided to stay miserable. I decided to keep to myself. For an entire week during the coldest time of the year, I stayed out at that bus stop, alone and miserable. I never said anything. I just stood there, endured the cold solitude, and waited for the bus. It’s as sad and pathetic as it sounds.

Why am I sharing this the day before Valentine’s Day? Well, I want to tell this story to help illustrate how bad I was at connecting with people. I had horrible social skills. I had no charisma whatsoever. It certainly didn’t help that I was exceedingly self-conscious, mostly due to my acne. It is a sad, pathetic feeling that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Now don’t get the wrong impression. This pathetic loneliness was my fault and mine alone. My family did damn near everything to support me in every possible way. They went out of their way to make me less miserable. I basically rejected them. I made the decision to be miserable. I wish I could unmake it because it still affects me to this day.

Looking back on those cold, lonely mornings, I feel as though I set myself back. I eventually did improve my social skills, but I was very behind the curve and still am to this day. It shows when I talk to new people and especially when I try to talk to women. I can handle myself a bit better, but I really did handicap myself for reasons that have never been justified.

So on the day before Valentine’s Day, I find myself remembering those cold mornings in high school again. I remember the loneliness and isolation that I imposed on myself during that time. I don’t doubt for a second that there are many others like me who share that feeling. Not all of them are in high school, but I imagine there’s never a shortage of miserable teenagers.

To those out there who do feel lonely, especially during this time of year, I would urge you to fight the urge to stay miserable. Fight the inner demons saying you deserve to be lonely. You’re better than that. You deserve to connect with others because guess what? They’re human, just like you. They seek connection as well. Look for it and you’ll find that you don’t have to be alone.

For this year, at least, I’ll probably be spending Valentine’s Day alone. The only companion I’ll have is named Jack Daniels. However, I refuse to remain in that cold, lonely place I put myself in all those years ago. I want to find love. I want to connect with people. Hopefully, my work as an erotica/romance writer will help me achieve this.

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February 12, 2017 · 9:44 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: The (Anti) Valentine’s Day Edition

It’s almost here, that most holy of holidays among lovers, fuck buddies, and anyone who signed the necessary legal documents permitting them to have sex without a priest or mullah bitching about it. That’s right, it’s almost Valentine’s Day.

For an aspiring erotica/romance writer, it should be a good day for me. It should be one of those days where I shamelessly promote some of the sexy romance stories I’ve crafted. I mean why wouldn’t a seamy thriller like “Skin Deep” or a steamy romance like “The Escort and the Gigolo” not be appropriate for this most sappy of holidays?

Again, it should be one of those days for me. Sadly, it isn’t. In my experience, Valentine’s Day is one of those holidays that’ll either remind you that you’re lucky enough to have a lover or that you’re unlucky enough to be alone. From the looks of it, this year’s Valentine’s Day will be the former for me.

Yes, it does look like I’ll be spending Valentine’s Day alone again. My only companion will be named Jack Daniels it seems. At least I can say he’s always there for me in my time of need, among other things.

However, I refuse to let my current relationship status or lack thereof keep me from thinking about overtly sexy stuff. I wouldn’t be a very good erotica/romance writer if I weren’t. So in the spirit of Valentine’s Day, for both those who love it and those who hate it, I give you another version of my “Sexy Sunday Thoughts.”

If you have a lover, hopefully they get you in the mood. If you don’t, hopefully it gives you strength to endure this most annoying of holidays. Whether you’re content or miserable, a little sexiness goes a long ways.

Sex and love are two related concepts that work best when the line between the two is hopelessly blurred.

As much as I dislike Valentine’s Day, I am a romantic at heart. I’ve always had a deep affinity for romance. It’s a big reason why I strive to become a successful erotica/romance writer. I know it’s sappy, overplayed, and partially ruined thanks to Twilight, but I still love romance, especially the kind that mixes perfectly with a little sexiness. When put together, they make a damn potent combination.

The fact that we struggle to tell the difference between a horny teenager and a miserable teenager says a lot about why they struggle through high school.

If I’ve said it a billion times, I still haven’t said it enough. Being a teenager sucks. High school sucks. What makes it suck even more is that this is usually the time in our biological life cycle when we’re the most horny. I don’t care how cool you are or how good your grades our. If you’re really horny, you’re going to be miserable.

We’re so goddamn horny, but every PSA and after school special is urging us to never have sex or even think about it. Then, people wonder why teenagers are so miserable in a world of smart phones and bacon-wrapped shrimp. That’s what horniness does to immature minds. It’s just basic biology.

The day men and women achieve true equality is the day calling someone a slut becomes a term of endearment.

I’m not a fan of certain insults. I’m okay with calling someone an asshat or a shithead because they apply equally to both genders and send a clear message. Other insults like slut and whore just don’t work for me because that message isn’t clear.

Most men want women to have sex with us. Most men want them to be willing to get naked. So why create an insult that shames that? We’re not doing our genitals any favors. It’s just as much a problem when women use these insults. They act like wanting to fuck and enjoy toe-curling pleasure is a bad thing. Am I the only one who sees a flaw in that?

The day science perfects the bionic penis is the same day dildo makers start to panic.

Make no mistake, science is working on this and they have made progress. So long as men want to keep improving the function of their dicks, and they have since they first found out that theirs isn’t the biggest, they will pursue a technological enhancement. At some point, science will improve this part of our body, along with many others.

When that day comes, dildo makers will be in trouble. In fact, they may be the first to suffer. Why would women even settle for a lifeless hunk of plastic when there are men with efficient, robust cocks walking around? Be afraid, dildo makers. Be very afraid.

There are disturbingly few differences between politicians and prostitutes, but only one knows how to use their mouth with any skill.

There are any number of jokes we can make about politicians these days, especially after last year’s election. Many of these jokes are funny because they have an uncomfortable amount of truth to them. That’s why I find their similarities to prostitutes so hilarious, albeit in a tragic sort of way.

What sets prostitutes apart is their ability to use their mouths to screw people in ways they actually enjoy. In that respect, they’re far more respectable than almost every politician in the world. Is it any wonder why so many are eager to ban prostitution?

Ten talented fingers will never be a skilled as one experienced tongue.

I know. It’s another thought about sexy tongues. I have a lot of them. I don’t know why, but I’ve always found skilled tongues to be extra sexy. I know there are men and women who put a lot of effort into using their hands, as well as other parts of their body, to the utmost in pleasing a lover.

However, in my experience a tongue just has too much versatility in matters of love and sex. No fingers, or any other body part, can ever hope to match it.

Whoever invented body glitter was either tired of hiding their affairs or just wanted a creative way to brag about how much sex they get.

I really don’t understand the purpose of body glitter. I don’t even understand why it’s a thing. However, I’ve noticed that it’s usually popular with strippers. That indicates to me that there’s a connection that nobody wants to think too much about. Given how one of my books involves strippers, I guess I can’t help but think about it more than most.

Positive thinking doesn’t get you laid, but it keeps your genitals on standby.

Let’s face it. Our minds are way too easy to fool. What else explains the power of the Placebo Effect? As such, why wouldn’t it affect our sex lives in some profound way?

It’s often said that the brain is the most important sex organ in our bodies, or a close second at the very least. That’s why it makes sense to keep it positive and energized. Your genitals and your brain may be at odds sometimes, but they can help each other when the thoughts and situations are just right.

That’s it for now. On behalf of myself and all those who will likely spend Valentine’s Day alone, hang in there. Be strong. Be sexy in your own right. Love will come come and when it does, hopefully you will too.

Yes, that last line is every bit as dirty as you think it is.

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February 11, 2017 · 8:18 am

A (Partially) Sexy Thought Experiment: Work Vs. Life

Here’s a question I’m sure everybody has asked themselves at some point in their lives, probably during a long day at work or during mid-terms at school. What if we didn’t have to work? What if our jobs was not critical to our survival?

That’s actually a question a lucky few don’t even have to answer because they live it. The trust fund babies of the rich elites, some of which go onto be the rich, arrogant shits on Instagram, already know that luxury. To them, it’s their perverse concept of normal. The idea of working to survive might as well be alien as having to cook their own meals. It just doesn’t resonate with them.

It’s because there are so few rich, arrogant fucks like that in this world that we can’t answer the question completely. Sure, we all fantasize about how we would live if we won the lottery. I sure have. That’s why I didn’t ask what you would do if you didn’t have to work. I asked what we would do so that means no elaborate fantasies about quitting your job.

By we, I mean us as a society. I mean us as a functioning, lawful, economically viable society and not some liberal utopia that exists only in Bernie Sanders’ dreams. I ask this question because I’ve been talking a lot about poverty recently. I’ve also talked about potential solutions, including the still-radical notion of a universal basic income. Now, I’d like to turn off the cold, harsh reality of politics and facts so we’re free to speculate.

I’m an erotica/romance writer so contemplating fantasies is easy for me. I kind of have to be good at it to write the stuff I write. That often means twisting and stretching my imagination in ways that even a team of Russian gymnast porn stars can’t match.

Every so often, I do try to think in extremes, like radical redesigns of the human body. Other times, I try to think of something a bit more feasible, like entirely eliminating all sexually transmitted diseases.

This experiment falls somewhere in the middle. It hasn’t been tried yet, but there are some places in the world that are conducting active experiments. The results of those experiments are a long ways off and it may be decades before a country has the balls to try it. Even so, like driverless cars and VR porn, it is conceivable that this will happen within my lifetime.

With that in mind, I want to create a scenario for people to imagine. It’s a scenario I think applies equally to men and women alike. The year is 2065. Society has progressed to a point where machines and AIs do pretty much all the work that humans used to do. This is an ongoing trend and one that will likely accelerate.

As a result, basic things like food, water, shelter, and utilities are pretty much free. No intensive labor is needed. To ensure that everyone has the means to live, every adult over the age of 18, although that age could be fluctuate depending on certain conditions, receives a regular basic income that’s today’s equivalent of $52,000 a year, which is the median income in 2013 for the United States.

Without getting into specifics about how the nuts and bolts of this system would operate, let’s just assume for the sake of the experiment that people receive this money the same way the elderly receive social security checks today. They can do with it what they please. They can still work. They can just sit home all day, smoke weed, and watch Netflix if they want. They have that freedom.

What would this do for our collective lives? What if working and surviving were no longer the same thing? This isn’t just a luxury for a bunch of rich fucks on instagram. This is an entire society where nobody has to worry about their next meal, their next rent check, or their utilities bill.

For some people, sitting at home all day, smoking weed and watching Netflix, is the first thing that comes to mind. However, not everybody is wired to do that and only that every day until they die.

People are diverse, eccentric, and erratic. They have all sorts of varying tastes, motivations, and aspirations. Many are stifled because they have to spend a good chunk of their time and energy working just to survive. How many more people would be inclined to pursue different passions if they didn’t have to work?

For someone like me, that passion involves writing erotica/romance. I know if I didn’t have to work, I would certainly spend more time writing more books. I may even find time to write about things I’ve never even contemplated. Not having to worry about money, food, or poor wi-fi would free me up to pursue entirely new ideas.

Beyond the lonely erotica/romance writers of the world, that extra time and energy could translate into more time focusing on family affairs. Parents could spend more time with their children. They would even have time to raise more children. As I’ve stated before, the birth-rate tends to decline when the economy tanks. Would a world like this lead to a never-ending baby boom?

How many families fall apart because the parents are too stressed to hold it together? How many children turn into assholes because their parents don’t have time to love them? How many families never even get started because the stress of work keeps them from having sex?

This is where the thought experiment takes on its sexier connotations. In this world, we don’t have to spend as much time worrying about work, money, or making the next rent payment. We actually have time to get out there, meet people, and form new social connections. Yes, some of these social connections would result in more sex.

Given the decline in sexual activity among millennials, who often enter a lousy job market with thousands of dollars in student debt, I can’t think of anything that would boost more libidos. When you’re less stressed and have more time, you can devote more energy into pursuing the relationships you want, sexual or otherwise.

Now for some uptight religious types, this is downright horrifying. There’s a reason why institutions like the Catholic Church and various protestant denominations revere the whole “protestant work ethic.” The impotent old men who run these institutions know that if young, sexy people are too busy working, they won’t be able to engage in large levels of fun and fornication. If they don’t know, it’s indirectly implied.

Maybe that ethic applied for an era where it took hundreds of people to farm land and hundreds more to protect that land from bandits, but in a future where technology and automation deliver our essentials, it’s kind of outdated. Like sacrificing a goat to ensure the rains come, it doesn’t need to be part of society anymore.

Being the optimist I am, I believe that a future like this will be a lot sexier than what we have now. I concede there will be those who use exploit this world and become fat, lazy slobs that would disgust Homer Simpson. However, I believe that the vast majority of people would use this world to forge new intimate connections.

Some of those connections will be simple fan clubs. Maybe more people will get together to share their fondness of baking dildo-shaped pottery. Who knows what gets certain people excited? Sure, some of those connections will lead to more sex, some of it of a kinky variety that will make every Catholic priest and mullah alive today faint in horror. I still think that, overall, it would be a net gain for the human race.

These are still the ramblings of an optimist who’s trying to make a living writing erotica/romance novels. This experiment may play out very differently in the minds of others, depending on how cynical they are about human nature or how many Nirvana songs they’ve listened to.

Whatever your outlook, I encourage you to do this experiment. I encourage you to contemplate a society where nobody has to work to meet their basic needs. What kind of society would it be? What kind of person would you be in that society? It’s an intriguing thought and, like so many of the others on this blog, one that has a lot of sex appeal.

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February 8, 2017 · 6:39 am

Food and Sex: A (Non-Kinky) Precedent?

Loosen your pants and untuck your shirt because I’m going to talk about food and sex. No, this isn’t going to be that kind of discussion. I know there’s an entire sub-genre that mixes food and sex in a way that is bound to confuse multiple body parts. I’ll save that topic for another day. For now, I want to have a different kind of discussion.

Like it or not, knowing that some will like it a bit too much, food and sex are intrinsically related. They are both vital components in our two primary drives as living beings, survival and reproduction. We need food to survive. We need sex to reproduce. These are as basic a drives as any animal can have.

As such, it’s also fitting that both topics have their fair share of taboos and I’m not just talking about create ways to use whipped cream. Even our old, uptight friends at the Catholic Church have linked food to one of their moral sins. In the same way they condemn excessive sex through lust, they also condemn excessive eating through gluttony.

Granted, the Catholic Church doesn’t make a big deal about gluttony anymore. I figure they know that too many of their adherents have grown fond of buffets, McDonalds, and ice cream. They can still get away with condemning sex because the basic functions of sex still apply today as much as they did 2,000 years ago. However, that may not be the case for much longer.

As I discussed in an earlier post, science is rapidly progressing to a point where we won’t even need sex to reproduce. There will be far safer, less strenuous options that don’t result in stretch marks and mood swings. The most promising is the artificial womb. This technology is the ultimate endgame in terms of decoupling sex from reproduction entirely.

If that term sounds familiar, it should and not just because Gweneth Paltrow used something similar in a way to make herself even less likable. It’s actually a term that I’ve referenced before because it was used frequently in Ray Kurzweil’s book, “The Singularity Is Near.” I’ve lauded this book many times before on this blog and parts of this issue are closely tied to the topics he explores.

In his book, he cites advances in contraception as the catalyst for this growing disconnect between sex and reproduction. He’s not wrong to cite such advances because we’ve spent the last 60 years or so adjusting to a world that contraception has created. It’s a world where women and men have more control than ever in when and how they have children. Such control was truly unprecedented.

Considering how birth control in the past involved pulling out, crocodile poop, and condoms made of animal entrails, we’re still in uncharted territory as a species. We humans have never lived in an age where we had this much control over our facility. The rise of the birth control pill was ground-breaking in terms of its effects on society. We’re still struggling to build a new foundation with those effects.

There’s no question that contraception technology will continue to improve, as Kurzweil discussed. It may get to a point where we have a perfect form of contraception for men and women alike, one that’s as easy to get as aspirin and just as easy to take. Such a time would truly be the Catholic Church’s worst nightmare.

However, despite Kurzweils’ many discussions on contraception and fertility, he never mentioned artificial wombs. To be fair, it’s still an emerging technology with a lot of hurdles. Contraception technology is likely to take priority over the next couple of decades, if only because it has so much momentum. At some point, though, artificial wombs will enter the equation.

This technology will do much more than make it easier for women to avoid getting pregnant when they don’t want to, thereby freeing them up to just enjoy the toe-curling pleasure of sex. It will give society an entirely new way grow. For some, it’ll be strange, sterile, and cold. For others, it offers a bold new vision for the future of the human race.

It’s hard to imagine. As such, it’s easy for writers like Aldous Huxley to have overly-dystopian visions of it in his book, “Brave New World.” Even radical feminists and ardent traditionalists, most of whom are men, worry that this technology will render the other gender completely obsolete. It’s scary, I know, but there is a precedent for this sort of thing. Society can adapt to these kinds of dramatic upheavals. It’s done so before.

This brings me back to food. Here’s a quick question for everyone to contemplate. When was the last time you had to worry about a harvest going bad or not having any animals to hunt? Take as much time as you need. I’ll wait.

Are you done rolling your eyes? Good, because the answer to that question, at least in first-world industrial societies, is pretty clear. They stopped worrying about famine, harvests, and hunting a long time ago. Today, food is cheap, plentiful, and so easy to get that our primary problem is that we eat too much of it.

Compare this with 99 percent of human history. From hunter/gatherer societies to early agricultural societies, the most pressing concern from kings to peasants was having enough food. Every year, societies all over the world lived with the constant dread that a harvest would go bad and they would all starve to death. Famine was like a bad blizzard. It was just a fact of life that you had to endure, accept, and dig out of.

A lot of that changed over the past 150 years. Going all the way back to the 1800s, advances in agriculture technology and farming techniques allowed fewer people to grow more food, so much so that there was time and land to grow cash crops like tobacco, cotton, and weed. It happened slowly, but it picked up steam thank to someone others have called, “The greatest human being who ever lived.”

His name is Norman Borlaug. He’s the father of the so-called green revolution. He’s also the primary reason why billions of people aren’t starving to death. He worked tirelessly to advance agricultural science to a point where even non-industrial societies can grow abundant food, so much so that famine isn’t just rare. It’s an aberration that warrants big budget fundraisers.

As a result, the act of growing, procuring, and preserving food is basically an afterthought in our society. We’re at a point in human civilization where we don’t eat to survive. Hell, we sometimes eat when we’re not even hungry, sometimes for a holiday, sometimes for social purposes, and sometimes just because we damn well fell like it.

Technology gave us this luxury. Technology will continue to improve, ensuring that our growing population will never have to till a field, pick fruit, or kill a deer for anything other than sport. Food is no longer as vital to survival as having a job or knowing where the dumpster behind a fast food restaurant is located.

With this in mind, apply the same concept to sex. Try to keep your pants on, but still try to imagine the world that would emerge. Sex is no longer quite as complex in the sense that people have to worry about the physical, social, and biological implications. In the same way they no longer worry about harvesting food, they don’t have to worry about any major consequences from sex.

In this world, sex isn’t linked to reproduction anymore. It’s just a physical act that two people do for whatever reason they want. It can be romantic. It can be social. It can just be for the hell of it. That’s really all there is to it. There’s no constant worry that it will lead to pregnancy, thanks to improved contraception. There’s also no worry that the population will stagnate because artificial wombs will take care of that.

As a result, the very concept of reproduction is very different from the concept of sex. Society may get to a point where the idea of making someone endure nine-months of pregnancy, and all the physical hell that comes with it, downright inhumane.

Now there will be those who contemplate this world and faint. I imagine many of them are affiliated with the Catholic Church, the Mormon Church, or the Duggars. However, like food production before it, science will change the way we think about sex, reproduction, and intimacy. It’s a matter of when and not if. I do hope it comes in my lifetime because that means the market for erotica/romance is sure to grow.

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February 7, 2017 · 6:29 am

Artificial Wombs: The Solution To Gender Equality?

Let’s face it. There’s a lot to whine about these days. As much as I despise whining, I don’t deny that this world gives us plenty of reasons. From war, famine, injustice, to poor wi-fi, there are a lot of issues that upset us on multiple levels.

When it comes to issues between the sexes, the whining and anger is that much more amplified and for good reason. Biologically, we’re very different. One sex has organs that hurt like hell when they’re kicked. Another has organs that hurt like hell when bringing a new life into the world. Despite these differences, we have powerful drive that urges us to come together, form intimate bonds, and even have sex if we’re lucky.

It’s because of these differences and that powerful drive that there’s so much conflict between men and women. It’s a driving force behind every sitcom, from “Leave It To Beaver” to “Modern Family.” It also fuels every conflict in every romantic comedy ever made, even the ones with Matthew McConaughey.

These conflicts are still an annoyingly persistent part of our political discourse. Modern feminism is driven, in large part, by these differences that manifest in everything from the wage gap to boob sizes on comic book characters. These differences can become so profound that it leads to genuine upheaval, as we saw with the Women’s March.

These upheavals have been with us for years and, given how the last election turned out, it’s likely to stay with us for years to come. There seems to be no end to it. Are men and women doomed to always be at odds?

Well, I try to be more optimistic about the future. I like to think a few extra miles past the finish line to imagine solutions that don’t necessarily always solve the problem, but do essentially render it obsolete. In the same way cell phones made LAN lines obsolete, some problems can just cease at some point.

In that spirit, I believe I’ve found something that would effectively end most ongoing conflicts between genders. It wouldn’t just level the playing field for men and women. It will effectively remove the many excuses that both sides make to hate, despise, and denigrate each other.

It’s not a legal solution. It’s not some ambitious social revolution either that requires everyone to sit through a gender studies class either. It’s a purely technical solution, one that is achievable. Some bold scientists are already working on it as we speak. Ladies, gentlemen, and those of unspecified gender, I give you the Artificial Womb.

I hope it doesn’t need too much of an explanation. It’s exactly what it sounds like. While it’s still on the drawing board, an artificial womb’s function is pretty simple. It’s an external device that allows for the growth, development, and eventual delivery of an infant outside of a physical womb. It’s basically all the joys of creating life, but with none of the stretch marks or morning sickness.

It’s not a new idea. In fact, there has been work on the development of embryos outside the womb going on for years now. It’s also a concept explored in fiction, most family by Aldous Huxley in his book, “Brave New World.” However, that book was basically a dystopian fever dream. I prefer to assess artificial wombs on a more constructive level.

Let’s ditch the dystopian fears and the horrors of some traditionalists who believe that life should only ever be created when a penis and vagina are involved. Instead, let’s think for a moment what an artificial womb would mean for men and women.

First and foremost, an artificial womb would remove one of the main driving forces behind that wage gap I mentioned earlier. When women get pregnant, they need to take time off to deal with their health and their newborn. This means they can’t work as much as men. As such, they don’t make as much money or have as many opportunities.

It’s not a patriarchal conspiracy. It’s basic biology. However, when you circumvent that biology, then suddenly women are free to compete with men more equally. They can still have babies, but they don’t need to put their bodies through nine months of hardship that has been tragically fatal for countless women over the centuries.

Beyond the job opportunities, an artificial womb means a woman has more control over her body. If she doesn’t want the stretch marks from pregnancy to undermine her rock-hard abs, then she doesn’t have to. She can keep looking like a young Janet Jackson while still having kids.

Beyond employment and vanity, though, an artificial womb does something else that might be even more profound. It effectively uncouples sex from reproduction. At the moment, even with things like in vitro fertilization, sex is the primary method for how we reproduce.

Granted, it’s extremely imperfect and prone to error. Then again, you could say the same thing about our immune systems until antibiotics and vaccines came along. In that instance, technology allowed us to rely on something other than the limits of our own biology. An artificial womb is just the next step in that process.

When that process plays out, it effectively changes everything we think we know about sex, which isn’t saying much for some people. Even though we humans have all sorts of reasons for having sex, rather it’s for love or a step in landing a big movie role, we can’t really escape the part where it leads to babies. Sure, we have contraception, but even that only goes so far.

An artificial womb won’t just change how genders relate to one another. It’ll change our fundamental concept of what it means to be intimate. What happens when sex just becomes an act of intimacy and not reproduction? What will that do to our love lives? What will that do to a new generation of children born in these wombs? What will it do for aspiring erotica/romance writers like me?

These are all difficult questions that are worth contemplating, even if they can’t be answered. I know artificial wombs are probably a ways off, but I do think this is one of those technologies that could occur in our lifetime. The next generation may very well be the first to never know the rigors of entering this world through a vagina. What kind of generation will that be? I don’t know, but I hope I have a chance to write sexy stories about it.

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February 5, 2017 · 8:28 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Super Bowl Edition

Today’s the day. The most sacred of games to all sports fans. For some, it’s the alpha and omega of manly competition. For others, it’s just another excuse to drink beer and eat buffalo wings. It’s not exactly sexy, but it’s as big a deal as any holiday where gifts, decorations, and alcohol are involved.

That’s right, it’s Super Bowl Sunday. The Atlanta Falcons and the New England Patriots have fought, clawed, and (in the case of the Patriots) potentially cheated to get to this moment. They endured a rigorous regular season. They made it through the playoffs. Now, this is it. This is the end of the line. It’s the Super Bowl.

It’s a day that reduces many men to the maturity of an 7-year-old watching cartoons on a sugar rush. It’s also a day where some women basically lock their panties, hide the children, and wait out the storm. However, it’s the women bold enough to watch the game alongside the men that help make this day special. To those women, I tip my hat to you.

I’ll certainly be indulging my inner sports fanatic. I’ve got a case of beer, bags of chips, and enough to greasy food to clog my arteries until mid-March. I’m going to have a damn good time.

Before kickoff, though, and before the hangover that’s sure to follow, I’d like to share my Super Bowl edition of Sexy Sunday Thoughts. It may not get you in the mood for football, but it’ll get you in a mood. That much, I’m certain of.

Another term for friends with benefits is mutual orgasm exchange.

I’m at all not against the concept of “friends with benefits.” I’m okay with any and all efforts of any two people to freely and responsibly pursue the toe-curling pleasures of intimacy. That said, I think the label is overly coy.

Let’s not mince words or beat around the bush. Aspiring writers, even those who use colorful metaphors for female genitalia, don’t like that. A friend with benefits is partner in a transaction and the currency is orgasms. That’s a hell of a benefit for a hell of a friend.

Eating too much makes you fat, but having sex counts as exercise so it’s possible to balance things out if you’re willing to be that horny.

There’s an ongoing debate about just how many calories that sex burns. Much like food, it depends on the quality and quantity of the goods involved. Whatever the case, sex does get the heart going and that will burn calories. Those who have a hard time holding back at a buffet table may want to keep that in mind when contemplating how they’ll stay in shape. Let’s face it. A rigorous workout through sex beats going to the gym.

In a perfect world, good breath and good oral sex skills would be closely correlated.

We don’t live in a perfect world, I know. Being an aspiring erotica/romance writer, it’s only natural to contemplate just how amazing such a world would be. For a sexy mind like mine, that world means those generous enough to give oral sex are rewarded beyond the satisfaction of pleasing their partner.

I don’t know what good breath from oral sex might smell like. For men, maybe it’s a mix of rose petals and lavender. For women, maybe it’s a mix of mint, sea salt, and taffy. It’s sad we don’t live in a world where we can find out, but it’s still fun to contemplate.

Money can’t buy happiness directly. But since it can buy prostitutes and prostitutes give orgasms, then it’s logical to say it can buy happiness indirectly.

Prostitution is a controversial issue for men and women alike. It always has been. They don’t just call it the world’s oldest profession because it caters to one of the oldest demands, although that is a big part of it.

Controversy or not, at its core, prostitutes deliver a certain brand of direct happiness to their customers. It’s all for a price and, regardless of how costly it is or what act is involved, that transaction occurs out of a desire for that happiness. For those prostitutes who do their job and do their job well, they are proof that money can truly buy happiness.

Woman have had it rough over the years, but they’ll never know the agonizing strain of having to hide a boner during gym class in high school.

Women, I know you deal with a lot of issues. Some are so serious that you have to hold big marches to raise awareness. I’m not undercutting the importance of these struggles. They are worth fighting for.

That said, a woman will never know the struggle men face in hiding awkward erections. Talk to any man who survived high school. They’ll talk about having to conceal awkward boners as if they were war stories. It’s more harrowing than it sounds.

It’s not that some people just hate dancing. They just know that they dance in a way that makes everyone around them less horny.

I’m not a dancer. I’ve never been big on dancing unless I have a significant amount of alcohol in my system. I get criticism every now and then for my reluctance to dance. I think there are many men and women in the same boat as me who avoid it not because we’re bad at it. It just sends the wrong message to those we’re trying to impress. Bad dancing is right up there with projectile vomit in terms of things that kill the mood.

For a man, true love is never having to apologize to his partner when he cops a feel.

I’m a romantic at heart. That’s not just because I write erotica/romance either. A part of me purrs like a kitten in a yarn factory when I contemplate the beauty of true love. There are all sorts of magical elements to it. Being able to cop a feel is one of the more underrated aspects of love. I think it deserves more recognition. To those of you with lovers, I hope you make this part of your Valentine’s Day celebration.

Softcore porn is like cake with no icing. It’s still pretty damn good, but not as good as we wish it were.

There’s a near infinite variety of porn. Some involve bondage. Some involve elaborate costumes. Some involve clown makeup and will give most people nightmares for the rest of their lives. That variety, like the kinds of chocolate, are a big part of what makes life worth living.

Then, there’s softcore porn. Anyone who has ever stayed up late to watch Cinemax knows what I’m talking about. It has almost everything we want in porn, except the really tasty bits. Much like a cake, we’ll still eat it without the icing. We’ll even enjoy it. It’s just that we really want that icing.

There you have it. Hope that gets everyone in the mood. Enjoy the big game!

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January 29, 2017 · 7:45 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: The Romantic Cabin Edition

It’s a tough week for a lot of men out there. This is the first weekend where we have no football to watch. For many, it’s the most agonizing time of the year. Christmas is over. Football is ending. This particular weekend basically begins the long, arduous wait until these things we love return.

In these dark times, it’s important that we support each other. It’s just as important that we turn to our lovers in our time of need. We should not run from their love, nor should we wallow in lonely despair. It’s already colder than a penguins ass outside. This is as good a time as any to cuddle up, embrace those we love, and console ourselves, at least until the NFL Draft.

As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, I can only do so much. I probably haven’t helped by talking about such heavy topics as evil, villains, and Lawrence Phillips. Well, today is different.

Today, I’m bringing this sad, lonely world that now lacks Christmas decorations and football games another round of my “Sexy Sunday Thoughts.” They won’t bring football or Christmas back any sooner, but I hope it offers some comfort, as well as a few dirty laughs. If it can also get you and your lover in the mood, then that’s just a nice bonus for everybody. Enjoy!

The male douche-bags of the world affect a lot of people, but the women who willingly have sex with douche-bags ensure that effect spreads across generations. So who is worse?

We all hate douche-bags. We all want to punch the rich kids of Instagram in the jaw. If there’s any force powerful enough to counter their shit, it’s the beautiful women they try to sleep with. Beautiful women are their kryptonite. So ladies, especially those with big tits, the power is in your hands. Fight the power of douche-bags. Don’t sleep with them anymore. You’ll change the world for the better.

Those who claim they favor quality over quantity must be inherently conflicted when it comes to orgasms.

Quality over quantity works in so many things. In many instances, it’s the hardest option available, but it’s the one most worth doing. When it comes to orgasms though, the whole quality vs. quantity debate takes on a whole new dimension. I don’t think men or women are equipped to make sense of it. Never-the-less, even if you try and fail, you never really lose in the long run.

Teach a man to fish and he eats for a lifetime. Teach a man to give good oral sex and he’ll never be alone for the duration of that lifetime.

There are some skills that are just gifts. I’m sure the Ron Jeremys of the world are aware of theirs. Some, however, can be learned. Oral sex is one of them. That is a skill that can bring people together in ways that transcend race, talent, and status. It is also a skill that can be learned. Learning that skill may not make you a saint, but it’ll make you a lot of close, loyal friends.

If sex has a smell and that smell comes out through sweat, then saunas must really confuse our noses and our genitals.

I’ve been in a sauna before. I’ve smelled sweaty naked bodies before, male and female. I’m not going to lie. My nose and my genitals don’t always agree. It’s not a conflict I’m equipped to deal with. It has no winners. So long as I have extra towels or a really lose bathing suit, I can manage it.

A young, attractive man whose poor still doesn’t have an advantage over an old, ugly man who is rich.

I’ve made this point before. I’ll keep making it because it needs to be belabored. There is no such thing as an unsexy rich man. Even if you have the body of a young Brad Pitt and the eyes of Ryan Gosling, being dirt poor ensures your options in ladies are peanuts compared to those of old, rich, ugly guys.

A lot of money goes a long ways towards moistening the loins of certain women. I concede that not all women are this way, but the population of those who are is probably much higher than we care to admit.

If men could really think with their dicks, then would getting a blowjob count as a mental exercise?

A penis can’t think. If it did, I’d have gotten straight-As through high school and college with ease. Men and women alike often claim we mistake our dicks for our brains. The erotica/romance writer in me likes to contemplate crazy sexy scenarios about what would happen if we could somehow bridge that gap. How much smarter would men be if blowjobs improved our thinking skills? It sure as hell would make school more fun.

If sex were a video game, the clitoris would be a cheat code that too many men are reluctant to use.

So long as I’m talking about dicks, I might as well be fair to the body parts of women as well. A dick is hard to hide. Any teenage boy with a boner during gym class knows that. A clitoris is a bit more subtle. However, once you know how to work it, this wondrous creation of nature is a shortcut to a woman’s ecstasy.

The sad part is that too many men either refuse to take this shortcut or don’t even know it’s there. It’s a frustrating problem, but a fixable one. I hope my contributions as an erotica/romance writer can help.

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January 23, 2017 · 6:23 am

Final (Hopefully) Edits Of “Passion Relapse” Submitted!

Got a quick, but exciting announcement to make. Late last week, I got an email from my publisher on the status of “Passion Relapse.” Apparently, things are moving quickly with this book. Nobody’s beating around the bush. Those involved seem eager to get to the foreplay and, as I’ve made clear in the past, I’m very much in favor of foreplay.

In the email I got, I also received what my editor said was the last round of edits. She had circulated my manuscript around multiple editors within the publisher. They each had their go at it, sifting through every word and giving it some added polish. Again, I’m totally in favor of this. More polish means more sex appeal and that’s how this book is going to succeed.

Then, I got a chance to go over it one last time and review the edits. From what I’ve been told, this is the home stretch. This is the final round. This is the two-minute warning in a football game. After this, the train can leave the station and “Passion Relapse” can get to work warming the hearts and panties of the masses.

Naturally, I gave this manuscript the utmost priority over the weekend. I basically ceased work on all my other projects so I could give this manuscript the energy it deserves. This is my first real novel that’s going to be published by an actual publisher. For an aspiring writer whose success at this point has been a handful of brief Amazon reviews, that’s a big deal.

Late last night, I finished. Then, I submitted it back to my editor, who verified that she got it and was ready to proceed with the next step. This being my first real novel, I’m not entirely sure what that step entails. I don’t know if I’ll get a chance to make any last-second changes or have any further input. At this point, I’m okay with that.

I’ve basically done all I can with “Passion Relapse.” The rest of this process is out of my hands. This is a whole different game compared to the self-publishing I’ve done with my other books. While I’m not expecting this book to be the kind of booming success that’ll put me on a first-name basis with Stephen King, I do hope it is a step. I’m sure it’s the first of many, but it’s a step I’m eager to take.

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January 22, 2017 · 8:46 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Inauguration Edition

It’s been another long week. It’s been more stressful for some than others for spectacularly obvious reasons. I know I haven’t made it easier by talking about such bleak topics like evil and the evil assholes throughout history that makes us wish we were dolphins. There’s still a lot to talk about with this issue, but I refuse to let this blog get too sullen.

No matter what I’m discussing, no matter how serious or disturbing, I’m going to find time to squeeze a little sexiness into the mix. What better way to do that than with my weekly “Sexy Sunday Thoughts” post?

There’s a lot of evil in this world that makes us want to throw a grenade into our gene pool. There’s also plenty of good that’s worth celebrating. Some of that good is sexy as hell. By now, everyone should know which kind I favor on this blog.

So for those who had a rough week and are dreading how the next four years will play out, I hope this offers a reprieve of sorts. We can’t change how certain events can play out. We can’t change the things that inspire evil in this world either. That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the sexy side of things.

“The only real difference between bikinis and underwear is that you’re more likely to be arrested if you wear one out in public.”

I’m a big fan of bikinis. I’m a big fan of sexy female underwear. I’m not a fan of hypocrisy though. From a pure design perspective, a bikini and a pair of underwear are the same. For utterly circumstantial reasons, though, only one is socially acceptable in public.

“The purpose of lingerie is somewhat ironic in that women put it on to get men in the mood to take it off.”

I’m a big fan of lingerie too. I know from experience how lingerie can make for wonderfully intimate moments with a significant other. That said, I still think the actual use of lingerie is so ironic, albeit in a sexy sort of way.

“A good doctor knows the difference between careful examination and foreplay. A great doctor will make sure the patient forgets that difference.”

If the success of “Grey’s Anatomy” and “House” has shown me anything, it’s that doctors can be sexy as hell in the right situation. Sure, some of those situations can get ugly and tragic, but in others it can get pretty damn hot.

Think about it. A smart, educated, well-paid man or woman is feeling up the most intimate parts of your body and asking intimate questions. At some point, your brain and your genitals will get on the same page.

“A prostitute who’s not very good at her job still has more customers than a tax attorney who is.”

Prostitution is the world’s oldest profession for a reason and it’s a damn good reason. Even if you’re moderately attractive and don’t put much effort into it, you can still satisfy plenty of customers. Orgasms will do that. I’ve never met a tax attorney who can be that mediocre and still make customers happy.

“A well-groomed man is just code for a man who spends more than $50 on clothes and hair care products.”

Guys, let’s not lie to ourselves. Women don’t like a man who’s cheap and unkempt. Being well-groomed doesn’t just have to mean shaving your pubic hair for your anniversary once a year. It also means investing some actual resources into yourself. It may suck for your credit card bill, but I think many ladies would agree that it does pay off if you invest well.

“Flavored lube can be dangerous in that it may confuse being hungry with being horny.”

I’ve said it before many times on this blog and I’ll keep saying it so long as our kinky species keeps giving me good reasons. Our caveman brains are full of faulty wiring. Eating and humping are two basic imperatives that our brain dedicates considerable resources to. Anything that confuses them is like bringing a flame-thrower to a napalm factory.

“If communication is supposed to lead to better sex, then shouldn’t negotiators have the best sex lives?”

As “Taken” and it’s various sequels have shown, some occupations require a very particular set of skills. To be a negotiator, you kind of need communication skills to make that job work. At the same time, everyone says communication is key to a good relationship and a great sex life. If we follow that logic, negotiators should basically be rock stars.

“Why do butt-ugly rock star marries a gorgeous supermodel? It’s for the same reason a dog licks his own balls…because he can.”

There’s a reason whey men like Mick Jagger can have kids that are younger than his grandkids running around. For reasons that simply defy logic, rockstars are one of those occupations where sex is basically a buffet that never closes. It affords them opportunities that few ever get, but many would seek

That’s it for now. Hope this lightens the mood. Whether you’re good, evil, or just don’t give a damn, a little sexiness can make anyone’s day better.

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January 21, 2017 · 8:54 am

The 10 Most Evil Humans In History (According To WatchMojo)

So long as I’m discussing the topic of evil on this blog, it was only a matter of time before I started venturing into the extremes. It happens with any topic that holds your interest for more than a few minutes. It’s not enough to just see one cat video. You have to find the greatest, most adorable cat video possible.

It’s human nature, a common and all too fitting theme when it comes to discussions of good and evil. To really grasp a concept, we tend to look to the extremes of that concept. That makes sense because the extremes usually catch our attention. They make the more subtle aspects of the concept not subtle. Lady Gaga, Madonna, and Elton John are living proof of this.

What’s going to hold your attention more? A thorough, detailed assessment of all the intricacies of a topic or the equivalent of a monster truck driving down down the street that shoots flames out the tailpipe while playing Slayer music? Unless you’re Sheldon Cooper, the answer should be obvious.

With that in mind, I think it’s fitting that any discussions about evil involve extremes. Sadly, human beings give us plenty of real-world examples of these extremes. History is full of ruthless conquerors, sadistic dictators, and eccentric directors who damage beloved superhero franchises beyond repair. These characters are not works of fiction. They’re real people who commit real evil. That makes their acts all the more revealing.

So in the interest of revealing and/or repulsing our tender sensibilities, I found a video from our old friends at WatchMojo that highlights 10 of the worst human beings in history. Some are serial killers. Some are kings, dictators, and despots. Every one of them is undoubtedly evil by nearly every measure.

Some may not agree with this list. Some may think it left off a few too many kings, queens, and disgraced professional athletes. At the very least, of provides some context and insight into the sheer breadth of humanity’s capacity for evil.

Are you ashamed to be human yet? Do you wish you were born a lizard? If so, step back and take a deep breath. These are extremes. By definition, they’re not the norm. They’re the exact opposite of the norm. They take the norm, take out its knees with a baseball bat, and kick it into submission before robbing it on the spot. I’d be more excessive, but I’m starting to have one too many flashbacks to the third grade so I’ll stop.

It’s an important perspective to maintain, even as we contemplate the worst of the worst when it comes to evil. The same thing happens when we watch Fox News for too long. Seeing all these extremes, which are often meant to get attention rather than convey the truth, gives us a flawed perception about what it means to be human. It doesn’t help that these perceptions find their way into our most famous stories.

It’s no secret that Bram Stoker’s inspiration for “Dracula” came from a real-life person with a bloody evil streak named Vlad the Impaler. In many respects, the things Vlad did make him much more terrifying than Dracula can hope to be because Vlad actually lived. Vlad earned that nickname and didn’t give a damn how infamous it made him.

Not every evil person earns that kind of label, but their real-world deeds definitely leave a mark. It’s not always on the people they hurt. Sometimes, their very presence skews our perceptions of human nature. It’s because these extreme evils catch our attention so much that our caveman brains can’t help but render sobering, albeit inaccurate conclusions.

As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, I may end up contributing to that issue. While I haven’t created a character on the same level as Dracula, characters like Warren Irvine in “Skin Deep” and Madam Felicity in “The Escort and the Gigolo” are not the kind of people you want be friends with. They’re definitely not the kind of people you want as your enemies either. Again, they’re not Dracula.

That said, it is tempting sometimes to push the limits of your antagonists. There are a number of novels I have in mind that require a mean, pissed off, utterly deplorable person to make the story work. How far can I take that? I’m not sure, but the real people who do real evil in this world do set the bar pretty high.

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