Tag Archives: men in uniform

Daily Sexy Musing: Ode Sexy Doctors

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Doctors are sexy on a fundamental level. I think most people agree with that to some extent. Men are drawn to sexy nurses. Women are drawn the smart, charismatic doctors that George Clooney and Hugh Laurie helped make famous. It’s not just some niche genre for porn or romance novels. There’s genuine sensual undertones to someone who heals others.

I believe it predates George Clooney. Go back to any point in history. If you had the skills and knowledge to heal someone, then you didn’t just provide a valuable service to your community. You had something that made you genuinely attractive. Someone who can heal and treat illness is objectively useful. Being useful is the first step towards being sexy.

Doctors, regardless of gender, are capable of eliciting all sorts of emotions from people. When we’re sick, we’re at our most vulnerable. We trust in our doctors to treat us and heal us. That kind of trust can take on some very intimate connotations. It can even lead to the famous Florence Nightingale trope where patients and doctors fall in love.

Given how our health and survival are so closely linked, we’re always going to have a more intimate connection with those who can heal us. The following Daily Sexy Musing is an ode to those uniquely intimate feelings we have towards those who tend to us when we’re ill. Enjoy!

My body failed me. I am at its mercy, weighed down by pain, fatigue, and weakness. I’m not just ill. I am vulnerable. I have the will to survive, but not the strength. I fight to overcome, but it’s not enough. I need a healing hand. Specifically, I need your loving touch.

You heed my call.

You come to my aid.

You console my wounded state.

Like an angel answering a prayer, you impart your skill unto me.

As I lay sick and suffering, you work your healing magic, tending to me and treating me. You describe my ailment with such knowledge and certainty, speaking a language that only a select few understand. It’s like you see beyond the surface of my flesh, finding the flaws and fixing them.

You brave pained cries and foul moods, undeterred by disease and distress. Instead of aversion, you feel compassion. Your heart is strong and your spirit is stronger. You don’t just confront the death and disease that attacks life on all sides. You fight it head on.

In that battle, you slay the beast.

Through that struggle, I am healed.

From my weakest moment, I regain my strength.

For that, I am in your debt. However, I seek more than simply repayment. You understand what it means to heal, but underestimate the greater effect. I was at your mercy. I was at the mercy of everyone and everything around me. You could’ve done anything to me and I would’ve been helpless.

Even so, you healed me.

Even so, you comforted me.

Of all the things you could’ve done, you did what was best for me.

Now, thanks to you, my spirit and my vigor have returned. In you, I see a compassionate heart and a capable soul. Around you, I don’t just feel safe. I feel stronger. With you, I want to share that strength. My body, now free of illness, is ready to connect once more.

You came to me when I was weak.

Now, I come to you when I’m strong.

Together, we celebrate our health.

Our hearts beat together. Our bodies become entwined. You are my doctor, the keeper of my health. I am your patient, the catalyst for your soul. As one, the spark of life burns brightest.

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Daily Sexy Musings: Men In Uniform

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The following is a round of sexy musings inspired by men in uniform. Specifically, it was inspired by a story that a woman told me years ago about how she had the hottest, sexiest night of her life thanks to a police officer. I wish I could share the details of that story, but I prefer to save it for one of my sexy short stories.

It’s no secret that many women find a man in uniform to be sexy. Why else would it be such a popular theme at male strip clubs? Many say power is an aphrodisiac and there’s even some science to support that. Someone who wields authority can both dominate and protect us. On some levels, we’re going to feel some level of intimacy from it. Some of it will be sexual and that’s what this musing celebrates.

We’re all born naked, equally vulnerable and universally weak. We all grow, pursuing many paths and following many passions. For a select few, there’s a special path with numerous obstacles. The work, the rigor, and the sweat impart special skills, weeding out weakness and expanding strength.

Finally, at the end of that path, those elite souls are affirmed. Over their naked, weak bodies they put on a uniform. They display to the world that they defied the odds. They became more than what their flesh alone can convey. They became soldiers, officers, and influencers. It was not given. It was earned.

A man who earns is a man willing to fight.

A man willing to fight is a man who can protect.

A man who can protect is a man with power.

Under the veil of that power, we feel safe. At the same time, we feel afraid. We look up at them. They look down at us. They can dominate, control, and overwhelm us. That fear can be confusing. The line between being afraid and being aroused blurs. Only through the uniform can we see the man behind the power.

Men with such power have to be strong. Men with such power have to be responsible. From their attire, alone, they tell us what they can do for us. If we respect their authority, we contemplate what they can do to us. Any man can exercise power. Only a select few can exercise true authority.

Men with authority don’t subdue. They dominate.

Men that dominate don’t make promises. They just act.

Men that act don’t just protect. They deliver.

We need only submit to their authority. We need only see that uniform and respect the power it conveys. They’ve earned that power. They’ve worked, trained, and toiled. Underneath, there can be no weakness or sloth. There can only be muscle and sinew. From there comes their strength. From their strength, they take us.

We need not resist. We need not desire otherwise. When they shed that uniform, they reveal they’re still men. Even without it, when they stand exposed as any other, the power remains. The strength that earned them that uniform doesn’t wane. It cannot be contained. It can only be channeled.

In that uniform, they are symbols of authority. Out of that uniform, they are conduits of it and we are the spark. They don’t ask. They demand . We don’t just comply. We submit. From their power and our respect, we create the most intimate of harmony.

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