Tag Archives: romance

The Emerging Problem Of Superman And Lois Lane

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I think I’ve made it fairly clear that I’m a big fan of superhero romances. I’m a big fan of romance in general, but romance between superheroes has a special place in my heart. I was a comic book fan before I was a romance fan. As the years have gone by, it has been among my favorite combinations. I put it up there with pizza and a cold beer.

It certainly helps that superhero comics have inspired some of the most iconic romances of the past century. Say what you will about Rose and Jack in “Titanic.” I still find the love story between Batman and Catwoman is much more complex and compelling in terms of depth, not to mention many times sexier.

Superhero comics have informed a lot with respect to my fondness for romance. I also think they offer unique insights into the complexity of romance. Love is complicated enough. Adding superpowers and super-villains into the mix only compounds the drama. Sometimes it can end in tragedy. Sometimes it can make for some truly epic romance that strikes all the right emotional chords.

In some instances, though, mixing romance and superheroes can cause problems. Like relationships in the real world, there are many ways to screw it up. Comics have done plenty to mishandle romance. Just ask any Spider-Man fan about a story called One More Day and watch them recoil with disgust. I’ve even noted a few examples.

However, there are some instances where romance in superhero comics cause unique problems that are subtle in substance, but vast in implications. It doesn’t always involve relationships that are inherently toxic to multiple characters. Sometimes, those problems can emerge in even the most iconic relationship.

In the pantheon of superhero romances, the top spot is usually reserved for Superman and Lois Lane. In terms of romance in superhero comics, they are the gold-encrusted diamond standard by which all others are measured. Their love is isn’t just iconic. It’s a foundational component for both characters.

Superman loves Lois Lane. Lois Lane loves Superman. That romance is established in the pages of Action Comics #1. It’s a critical part of how both characters evolve over the years. You can’t tell Superman’s story without Lois Lane and you can’t tell Lois Lane’s story without Superman.

In the same way Superman always does the right thing and Deadpool always makes the dirtiest joke, this dynamic is fundamental. It establishes the kind of romance that is pure, unconditional, and uncorrupt. There’s no need for a previous love interest to die or a love triangle to provoke drama. Superman and Lois Lane just love each other and that’s all there is to it.

However, even with a romance this iconic, there is a problem and it’s actually a very recent problem. It affects both Superman and Lois Lane, but I believe it affects Lois to a much greater extent. It stems from an issue that I’ve been noticing more and more lately with certain romances. When it shows up in the most iconic romance in the history of comics, though, I take notice.

The nature of the problem has less to do with love and more to do with how a relationship defines certain characters. In both fiction and real life, it’s common and even romantic for two people to become so close that their lives become heavily entwined. There comes a point, though, where it stops being romantic and starts being destructive.

For most of their history, Superman and Lois Lane’s romance was built around simple, but effective dynamics. Lois Lane loved Superman, but not Clark Kent, who she didn’t know was Superman. Superman kept his identity from her to protect her many years, which created plenty of tension and made for some great moments.

Eventually, Superman reveals his identity to Lois and they eventually get married. I remember that moment. It was an amazing milestone for both romance and comics lore. The problem only came when that dynamic was complicated by a new theme that has since permeated the narrative.

It didn’t start at any particular date, but I think “Superman Returns” marked the unofficial turning point. That movie, on top of turning Superman into a deadbeat dad, made a small, but critical tweak to the Superman/Lois romance. In essence, it turned their love from a strength to a liability that is detrimental to the ideals of Superman and romance, as a whole.

At the beginning of that movie, Superman’s actions are the same as they’ve always been. He does the right thing because it’s the right thing. That’s who he is and why he’s so iconic. Towards the end, though, what he does becomes less about doing the right thing and more about resolving his relationship with Lois Lane.

Suddenly, doing the right thing and saving Lois aren’t just supplementary plots. They’re indistinguishable. One is the other and that’s a problem for reasons that go beyond romance and heroism. It wouldn’t have been that big an issue if it had only played out in one sub-par Superman movie, but in recent years, the problem has escalated.

It manifested in its most overt form in “Injustice: Gods Among Us,” a video game with a comic book series tie-in that essentially provides a worst-case-scenario for Superman. In this story, Superman is tricked into killing both Lois and his unborn child by the Joker. It’s not just an atrocity and a tragedy. It fundementally breaks Superman.

I’m not just referring to his spirit either. The death of Lois Lane also marked the death of Superman, as an ideal. In both the game and the tie-in comics, he’s no longer a hero. He’s a tyrant who becomes everything he once fought against. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a villain, but he’s definitely not the beacon of goodness that so defines his character.

While it makes for a powerful story, the particulars of that transformation are profound and not in a good way. It implies that Superman’s heroism is directly tied to Lois Lane and not supplemented by it. If she dies, then Superman ceases to be that iconic hero who stands for truth and justice.

That sends the message that Superman’s love for Lois Lane isn’t a strength. It’s a crutch. She’s not just his connection to humanity. She’s his lifeline. Beyond putting a burden on a character whose appeal is her ambitious pursuit of truth, it reduces Lois Lane to a singular role and one that’s impossible to maintain.

Unlike Superman, Lois is human. She’s going to age. She’s going to eventually die. Under this dynamic, Superman will eventually lose sight of his ideals. He’ll eventually stop being the hero that fights for truth, justice, and the American Way. Without Lois, he’s destined to give up and for a character who once moved the sun, that’s pretty weak.

This issue came up again in the plot for “Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice.” While I enjoyed the movie and don’t think it deserved half the criticism it got, there was one major issue that I felt undercut the story. Once again, it came back to Superman’s relationship with Lois.

Throughout the movie, Superman constantly questions his role and responsibilites as a hero, especially after seeing Batman’s approach to pursuing justice. That’s perfectly appropriate with respect to humanizing his character, but at the end of the day, he bases much of his decision to save the day around saving Lois.

That’s not to say that there isn’t merit to saving a lover, but this is Superman we’re talking about here. This is a hero whose entire appeal is built around him having god-like power, but still doing the right thing. When the right thing is only ever in the context of saving his girlfriend, then that undercuts both the ideals and the romance itself.

It’s largely for that reason, among others, that I find the romance between Superman and Wonder Woman more compelling. Back in 2012, there was a brief period in DC Comics where the timeline was tweaked, which happens fairly often, and Superman’s marriage to Lois Lane was nullified. That gave these two iconic heroes a chance to be together.

I could probably write several more articles about why I think the Superman/Wonder Woman romance is special in its own right. In many respects, I think it’s healthier than the Superman/Lois Lane relationship. It may never be as iconic, but it fundementally avoids this problem.

Wonder Woman can take care of herself. She can save herself and be a hero on her own terms. Lois Lane, however, is becoming more and more defined by how she defines Superman. For the most iconic superhero couple of all time, that’s pretty shallow.

The recent comics have done little to address this issue. With yet another tweak to the timeline, Superman is back with Lois. They even have a child now. However, the nature of their relationship is still on uncertain ground. I still feel it lacks the complementary dynamics that made it work so well for so many years.

There’s a chance it could change. Given the fickle nature of comic book continuity, it’s very likely that the Superman/Lois Lane dynamic will continue to evolve. However, I think it’s going in the wrong direction if Superman’s reasons for doing the right thing are that dependent on Lois.

Whether or not this problem deepens or subsides remains to be seen. Superman and Lois Lane are still the most iconic romance in the history of comics. That will continue to hold true, even if the problem deepens. Superman and Lois Lane are great characters in their own right. That aspect cannot and should not get lost under the weight of their iconic romance.

As much a romantic as I am, I don’t deny that it is possible for a love story to go too far. Loving someone and being dependant on them are not the same thing, especially when superpowers get involved. If a relationship becomes too dependent, then it can be more damaging than a mountain of kryptonite.

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Filed under Comic Books, Jack Fisher, Superheroes, Marriage and Relationships, romance, superhero movies

How To Disappoint (But NOT Destroy) An Iconic Romance In Batman #50

688356-_sx1280_ql80_ttd_It’s been a rough summer for fans of romance, superheroes, and superhero weddings. In fact, in all the years I’ve been reading comics and following romantic sub-plots, I can’t remember a time when there was this much melodrama and heartbreak. I understand that any epic romance is going to involve a healthy bit of emotional strain, especially when it involves superheroes. There comes a point when it just becomes too much.After the deconstruction and denigration of superhero romance that unfolded in X-men Gold #30, I feel like we’re dangerously close to that point. It’s as though everyone involved in making superhero comics is admitting that superheroes can’t get married. They can’t have a functional, compelling romance and still be interesting.That sort of sentiment is basically an affirmation of Marvel’s justification for undoing Spider-Man’s marriage to Mary Jane Watson in the infamous One More Day story. Given the relative infamy of that story line and the recent upheaval with the X-men, many fans of both superheroes and romance were placing a lot of hope that the wedding of Batman and Catwoman could help stop the bleeding in Batman #50.I certainly counted myself among those who was very excited about this event. I even admit I really wanted this to make up for the disheartening outcome of X-men Gold #30. The romantic in me wanted at least one superhero wedding this summer that didn’t end in heartbreak or tragedy.Well, if you saw the same spoilers in the New York Times that I did just two days before Batman #50 came out, you already know that’s not what happened. Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle did not get married. That means in terms of superhero weddings, the summer of 2018 is now 0 for 2.However, that outcome did not compound my lingering disappointment from X-men Gold #30. I’ll even go so far as to say that Batman #50 didn’t send the state of superhero romance past the point of no return. It didn’t improve the state of affairs. It was disappointing, but not to the point where it damaged a story or a romance beyond repair.Before I explain, I want to establish that many of the details beyond this point are heavy spoilers. Seeing as how this comic was already spoiled a couple days prior to its release, much to the chagrin of comic retailers, I don’t think I need to place too many warnings. I still recommend that people buy the comic, but there’s more going on here than a wedding that didn’t happen, much more so than what we saw in X-men Gold #30.By nearly every measure, Batman #50 approaches the concept of a superhero wedding differently than X-men Gold #30. The wedding of Kitty Pryde and Colossus was set up as this big, momentous affair between an established couple that overcame a lot just to have the opportunity to get married. They brought in friends, family, and fellow superheroes from across the X-men comics.In contrast, the ceremony in Batman #50 was very small. In fact, there wasn’t much of a ceremony to speak of. The only ones who were present besides Batman and Catwoman were Aflred, Bruce Wayne’s butler and long-time confidante, and a lone judge who was already drunk so that he wouldn’t remember his or Catwoman’s identity. Batman always has a plan for that sort of thing. That’s why he’s Batman.On top of that, Batman is the one who proposed to Catwoman back in Batman #24. He’s the one who pitched the idea of getting married in the first place. That’s critical because Kitty Pryde was the one who proposed to Colossus in X-men Gold #20. That matters because she’s also the one who broke it off and at the last second, no less. Things were a bit less cruel in Batman #50 and that’s saying something for a Batman comic.At one point in the story, Batman makes clear that he still wants to marry Catwoman. He’s not having second thoughts. It’s Catwoman who makes the fateful decision to break it off and she doesn’t wait until half-way through the ceremony, either. To put that another way, an admitted jewel thief who enjoys having sex on rooftops showed more decency than Kitty Pryde on her failed wedding day.It’s not a public spectacle that turns into an equally public debacle. It’s a private affair that simply doesn’t pan out. There’s no awkward reception. There’s no attempt to salvage it by shoehorning another romance into the mix just so someone gets married, as though such romances can be swapped out like batteries. It just doesn’t happen.Moreover, Catwoman actually gives a reason for not going through with the wedding and, unlike Kitty Pryde, it’s not a wholly contrived. She establishes throughout Batman #50, through a series of montages documenting their romance over the years, why she loves him and why he’s such an effective hero. In the process, she reveals something profound about Batman.What makes Batman both effective and iconic is how he takes the pain of a tragedy, namely the death of his parents, and turns it into strength. The same pain that would break a lesser man drives him to do so much more. He’s the Dark Knight who defends Gotham. He’s a hero who deserves to fight alongside demigods and aliens on the Justice League. For him to be Batman, he needs that pain to fuel him.From Catwoman’s perspective, Batman finding happiness means denying him the fuel he needs to be Batman. That’s not a realization that just randomly pops into her mind at the last second, though. This is something the Joker actually points out to her in Batman #49. It has less to do with whether or not she loves him and more to do with him being the hero that Gotham needs.That doesn’t make Catwoman’s decision any less disappointing, but it’s still nowhere near as callous or selfish as Kitty Pryde’s decision in X-men Gold #30. I know it’s somewhat unfair to keep comparing the two, given the different circumstances of their relationship, but those distinctions highlight an important element that the failed Batman/Catwoman wedding has that the Colossus/Kitty Pryde wedding didn’t.What happens in Batman #50 is definitely a setback for Batman and Catwoman’s relationship, but it doesn’t fundamentally destroy it. In fact, there’s a very critical detail at the end of the issue that leaves the door open for this romance to keep evolving. I won’t spoil it, but it unfolds in such a way that makes romance fans like me want to root for this relationship.The same definitely cannot be said for the Colossus/Kitty Pryde relationship. After the way things played out during their wedding, it really feels as though their romance is damaged beyond repair. It’s no longer a love story. It’s an outright tragedy, one that would need an even greater contrivance to repair at this point. In a universe with shape-shifting aliens, though, that’s not wholly unfeasible.In the grand scheme of things, Batman #50 is still disappointing in the sense that it doesn’t let Batman and Catwoman take their love story to another level. In fact, not a whole lot changes. The way it plays out feels more like a setback rather than a tragedy. The writer of the comic, Tom King, even claims it’s just part of a much larger narrative between Batman and Catwoman.How that story will play out remains to be seen. Given how long it took Batman and Catwoman to get to a point where they try to get married, Batman #50 already gives the impression that their romance is being dragged out. For a couple who has been off and on again since the 1940s, that’s saying something.If I had to score Batman #50, as both a comic book fan and a romance fan, I’d give it a 6 out of 10. It’s a bit of a letdown, but it’s not nearly as soul-crushing as X-men Gold #30. It still leaves the state of superhero romance in a very precarious state, but at the very least, this book gives me reason for hope.I’ll still be very skeptical of any future superhero wedding for the foreseeable future, though.

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Filed under Comic Books, Jack Fisher, Superheroes, Marriage and Relationships, romance

“Loving Freedom” A Sexy Short Story (On The 4th Of July)

9040dd3143052b8d1ed9ae6308b130e8Greetings, and Happy 4th of July! I hope everyone has a chance to sit back, cook up some food on the grill, and enjoy a fireworks show wherever you are. In the spirit of celebrating this day of freedom and Independence, I’ve crafted a sexy short story to celebrate all things sexy and free. Enjoy!

“Looks like the show’s about to begin, Betsy,” said an excited Sam Washington.

“You are talking about the fireworks, right?” quipped his beautiful wife, Elizabeth “Betsy” Washington.

“And what if I’m not?” he retorted coyly.

“I’d be relieved,” she quipped, “because for us, the fireworks are never the best part of the 4th of July.”

Sam’s grin widened as he sat next to his wife of five years atop a large blanket on the isolated hilltop not far from their house. It was an isolated, remote area that few knew about and for good reason. He and Betsy made it a point to keep the place hidden. In the heart of middle America, it was their own slice of personal freedom.

That place gained even greater importance on 4th of July. As it just so happened, the top of the hill overlooked Liberty Lake Park, a vast island of grassy open space surrounding a lake. Every summer, hundreds of people descended on to docks to unload boats, jet skis, and everything else they needed to enjoy the mid-summer heat. The biggest crowds always gathered near the docks for the annual fireworks show.

It was one of the biggest in the state, boasting every year how it could light up the entire night for a brief, but memorable spectacle. It was extra special to him and Betsy because their first date had taken place during the 4th of July seven years ago. On that night, they started a tradition that they had cherished ever since.

“I even hear they brought in extra material from upstate,” Betsy added. “My sister’s old roommate says they brought in some fireworks from the baseball stadium they hadn’t used.”

“Are you telling me this to warn me? Or entice me?” Sam asked her.

“Can it be a little of both?”

“I’m good with either,” he teased. “It’s been a long, hard year for the both of us. I’m ready to just take a step back and celebrate.”

“Me too, my love.”

He smiled at his beautiful wife, her loving gaze building the anticipation. The stage was set. They’d just finished a round of freshly-grilled burgers, chips, and corn on the cobb. With full stomachs and a couple of beers in them, Sam was ready carry on that tradition. His beautiful wife in his arms, the fireflies already buzzing in the diminishing twilight, they anxiously watched the cloudless sky in anticipation.

“Any minute now,” Betsy told him, “and we’ll do plenty of celebrating.”

“I’m ready. America is ready. We’re ready, damn it!” he said with growing patience.

They weren’t going to start until the first round of fireworks went off. That was when the real show began. It made time move painfully slow. It didn’t help that Betsy wore those extra sexy high-cut shorts of hers, along with that red, white, and blue halter top. She claimed she chose that outfit because it was hot and it was patriotic, especially compared to his jeans and sleeveless shirt. Sam knew Betsy well enough to know when she had other, less obvious motives.

The way her long, smooth legs brushed up against him, her soft hands caressing his unshaven face, made the wait unbearable. Sam wasn’t sure the lover or the patriot in him could hold out much longer.

Then, it finally happened. The first round fireworks from the lake shot up into the sky, bursting in a dazzling display of reddish green light. A cheer erupted from the crowd of people gathered around the lake. For a brief moment, he and Betsy gazed up in awe as well.

That didn’t last long, though. As soon as the crisp night sky was illuminated by the display, Sam turned towards his beautiful wife and locked his gaze with hers.

“It’s time,” Betsy said with that all-American sexiness in her voice.

“God bless America!” Sam said eagerly.

With more fireworks going off, they kissed passionately. It started off soft, not unlike the kiss they shared on their wedding day. It quickly escalated, though, deepening into the kind of kissing they’d shared on their honeymoon.

Their lips swirled and their tongues twirled, the love they shared as husband and wife mixing with the lust they felt as two people of heightened passions. It conveyed a perfect blend of affection and desire, one they sought to express under the light of 4th of July fireworks.

“Sam,” she gasped, their lips briefly parting, “take me, you all-American stud!”

He didn’t need to be a loving husband or a former army grunt to heed those words, but they certainly added a sense of urgency. Once again, Sam was going to do it. He was going to make love to his wife under the light and noise of 4th of July fireworks on a muggy summer evening.

Betsy had already gotten ahead of him, kissing him again before pulling his shirt off over his head. He caught up quickly, though, picking his wife up in his powerful arms, earning a delighted laugh in the process, and laying her out on the oversized blanket they’d placed atop the freshly-cut crass. Now on top of her, he kissed her again before trailing his hands up her waist.

“Time get out of these sweaty clothes,” he told her.

“Mmm…it’s too hot for clothes anyway,” Betsy joked.

As the radiant light from the fireworks above illuminated the isolated hilltop, Sam went to work undressing his wife. First, he slid her halter top up over her head, revealing the blue bra she’d worn underneath. As she reached behind to unclasp it, he trailed his lips down her torso while undoing her tight-fitting jean shorts. He could already feel her body writhing with anticipation, conveying a growing desire to go along with the excitement of the spectacle above them.

“Off! Get them off!” Betsy urged.

Sam worked faster, pulling her shorts down her shapely legs, taking her panties off in the process. The moment they came off, Betsy removed her bra, rendering her fully naked. Being out in the open on a hot summer evening didn’t bother her in the slightest. If anything, it brought out an extra sexy side to her that drove him wild.

“Now, it’s your turn!” she said intently.

With the noise of more fireworks erupting overhead, Betsy pounced on him with unfretted energy, kissing him again and turned him over so that now he was on his back. She then hovered over him, letting those perfectly-shaped breasts of hers dangle in her face. She loved showing them off and he loved feeling them in his hands.

As he fell under her seductive spell, kissing down her cleavage and fondling her breasts, she reached down and undid his pants. Having already become very confined, he coordinated with his wife to get them off as fast as the mud-stained denim would allow. Feeling the hot summer air on his exposed flesh was nothing short of liberating, a fitting feeling for the 4th of July.

Now fully naked, alone and in nature together, Sam let his wild side show with Betsy. As the rate and intensity of the fireworks escalated, they engaged in an onslaught of impassioned foreplay. They rolled round on the blanket, the sweat and pollen sticking to their naked bodies. He felt Betsy’s hands roam wildly, pawing and caressing the sinews of his chest. He returned the favor, feeling up the smooth skin of her womanly curves, giving her butt a firm squeeze while still giving her breasts plenty of attention.

Together, they moaned and caressed one another, but much of it muted by the sound of exploding fireworks. That didn’t matter, though. Sam could literally feel the desire growing between them and not just because his erect dick was pressing up against her thigh. While he and his wife had always enjoyed extended foreplay, he hadn’t forgotten that time was a factor when making love during a fireworks show.

“Ready for the real fireworks?” Sam asked over the noise.

“Hell yes!” Betsy said with a beaming smile.

Showing the kind of enthusiasm that could inspire patriotic passions in anyone, she got on top of him again so that he laid flat on his back. She then positioned herself on top of him, getting into an upright position so that her pelvis was perfectly aligned with his rigid manhood. With the fireworks going off in the skies around them, it was an amazing sight, like gazing up at an angel surrounded by exploding stars.

“Just lie back,” she told him. “I’ll put on the real show!”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Sam said with a wide grin.

As a round of bright white fireworks went off behind them, Betsy grasped his sides and lowered her hips, working his rigid manhood up into her waiting depths. Upon feeling her tight, wet flesh around his, they each let out a blissful moan. Once again, it was muted by the noise from the fireworks, but that only served to motivate Betsy.

Fueled by a mix of passion – and the American spirit, as a whole – she began riding his dick in a fury of vigorous motions. She dug her toes into the blanket, tightened her grip on his waist, and gyrated her hips in a skillful display of loving sensuality. The way the hot folds of her womanhood slid along the length of his cock made it feel as though their flesh had been perfectly fitted for one another. It brought with it a steady stream of blissful sensations that seemed augmented by the fireworks displayed in the background.

To Sam, it was ecstasy and love in its purest form. Looking up at his beautiful wife, watching her ride him with such affection and dedication, was truly a sight to behold. The fireworks in the background was just a nice bonus. It made him feel like he had the best seat in the house for any 4th of July celebration.

“Betsy! Ohhh Betsy!” he moaned. “So much…love you…so much!”

“Yes! Oh yes! Oh Sam!” Betsy exclaimed.

Their cries exceeded the noise from the fireworks, a fitting feat for two patriotic lovers like them. Betsy stepped up the rhythm, her breasts bouncing more with each motion. Sam eagerly reached up to touch them, rubbing them with both hands in just the way she liked. He also made it a point to rub her nipples in a certain way. It was one of his wife’s favorite kinks and on such a special night, it was extra potent.

“Oohhh like that! Rub my tits…just like that!” she gasped. “You’re going to…make me…come!”

It worked even better than usual. As Betsy rode him with greater intensity, she placed her hands atop his and supplemented his skilled touching. Sam hadn’t known many women who could achieve orgasm by having their breasts rubbed. The fact he fell in love with someone who did made their sex that much hotter.

Between her riding his cock and him rubbing her breasts, Betsy’s ascension to orgasmic bliss was complete just in time for an extra loud round of fireworks. Sam watched with awe – both in reaction to the fireworks and to his love’s expression of ecstasy – as she closed her eyes, threw her head back, and let out a cry of euphoria to the heavens. As loud as the fireworks were, they didn’t stand a chance against his love’s bliss.

“My love coming on the 4th of July…my favorite spectacle of all,” Sam grinned.

As the orgasmic wave washed over her, he maintained his firm hold on her breasts. She clung to his wrists as well, her body writhing under the onslaught of pleasure. He felt the inner muscles of her womanhood contract around his member, tightly embracing his flesh in accord with her bliss. Every breath echoed with a delight, her naked body glowing even brighter under the light of the fireworks.

“Enjoying your independence, Betsy?” Sam teased.

“Mmm…how American of you,” Betsy said coyly.

Her body still shuddering from the pleasure, she released her grip on his wrists and leaned down to capture his lips in another kiss. Sam eagerly kissed back, embracing his beautiful wife fully under the spectacle in the skies above. However, he also hadn’t forgotten his own desires, nor did he forget the time constraints in which they were operating.

“Ready for the finale?” he asked her.

“Of course…my all-American lover!” Betsy replied without hesitation.

Taking the initiative, as only any former army man could, Sam repositioned their bodies so that he was the one on top. Their flesh never parted, not wasting a moment or motion.

Betsy eagerly adjusted, despite her post-orgasmic state. She spread her legs wider, hooking them around his waist so that the balls of her feet dug into his lower back. His sweaty flesh now meshed up against hers, Sam planted knees and feet firmly on the ground. Then, he buried his face into her neck and began making love to her at the same fervent rhythm she’d established earlier.

“Betsy…oh God, Betsy!” Sam grunted upon feeling that intimate bliss once more. “I want you…want this.”

“That’s it, my love,” she told him. “Make love to me…under the stars…and the fireworks.”

Her loving, affectionate tone somehow found a way to echo over the noise of fireworks in the sky. It might have been a 4th of July miracle or his desire to make love to his wife was just that strong.

Whatever the case, Sam went with it. Like a man on a mission, he worked his body against hers, thrusting and pumping his rigid manhood within his lover’s depths. Every movement brought with it a surge of hot sensations, each bringing him closer to his approaching peak. He had held back before so his wife could enjoy her ecstasy. Now, he sought to share in that feeling.

As that blissful peak approached, the noise from the fireworks got louder. It sounded like the show was at its finale as well, firing off every last mortar and firecracker. Betsy, her chin dug into his shoulder, probably had the best possible view. He could sense her awe, but he still felt like he was part of the real spectacle.

“Betsy…I’m so close,” he gasped. “The finale…so close!”

“I feel it too, Sam,” Betsy panted. “Come, my love. Celebrate with me!”

Armed with his passion and his all-American grit, Sam’s heated movements in lovemaking sent him to the brink. For a brief moment, it seemed unlikely that he would achieve that peak in time for the fireworks to end. In what felt like another 4th of July miracle, he achieved his climax as well.

It struck just as one of the brightest displays from the show lit up the sky, so much so that it illuminated Betsy’s face like the midday sun. As he took in her loving gaze, his hold on her intensified as every fiber in his body was awash in pleasure. White hot pleasure surged from his core, sending ripples of euphoria from head to toe. His manhood throbbed inside her in accord with his release, his sexual fluids mixing with hers in a potent blend of passion.

Throughout that ecstasy, his gaze never diverted from her and hers never diverted from his. In that moment, in that instance of ultimate intimate bliss, they shared a deep kiss to cap off the finale. Fittingly enough, that was the exact moment the fireworks display ceased.

The timing was perfect. As they kissed, they could hear the crowd around the lake cheering the show. It felt like they’d been cheering him and Betsy on as they made love. The probably thought they’d seen the best American spectacle show in the state. They were dead wrong.

“I love you, Betsy,” Sam said, the skies now quiet.

“I love you too, Sam,” Betsy replied with her loving gaze.

“Happy 4th of July, my freedom-loving wife.”

“Same to you, my American stud of a husband.”

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Reflecting On The Greatest Advice Rick Sanchez Ever Gave Us

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Greetings, and wubba lubba dub dub! By now, you should know that means this will be another article about “Rick and Morty,” one of the greatest animated shows of this century or any other century, for that matter. I know that sometimes means the topics involved are depressing or downright fatalistic. I can’t promise this one will balance that out to any meaningful, but I still hope that this piece is more useful than most.

Love it or hate it, either due to its nihilistic undertones or exceedingly passionate fanbase, there are a lot of interesting insights to explore within “Rick and Morty.” From specific episodes that deal with the not-so-hidden appeal of the apocalypse to those built around Rick turning himself into a pickle, there’s a wide variety of lessons and themes to take in.

In this case, I want to focus on what I feel is the best advice “Rick and Morty” has given anyone, both within his animated world and in our own world. It’s a lesson that anyone can use in a multitude of situations, be it dealing with never-ending flood of depressing news to finding out a beloved actor was a total asshole.

Rick has given this advice to Morty on more than one occasion throughout the show, including the pilot episode and, most notably, in “Rick Potion #9.” It applies to battles against alien security guards, burying the body of your alternate self, and that time you farted in class a bit too loudly. It can be summed up in four simple words.

Don’t think about it!

On the surface, it doesn’t sound too useful. Not thinking about something seems like an elaborate excuse to avoid a particular problem or issue. It sounds like something adults tell children just to shut them up so they’ll stop bothering them. Whether they’re asking about where babies come from or why we can’t stop fighting wars, it feels like the overly easy way to avoid an unpleasant conversation.

However, I don’t think that’s what Rick means when he says that. He’s already proven in multiple episodes that he doesn’t give a Grunglokian fart about unpleasant conversations, as evidenced by his many unfiltered rants around his family. When he says “don’t think about it,” he’s saying it in a particular context that makes it more than just a method for avoiding awkward moments.

Watch any one episode of “Rick and Morty” and you’ll notice more than a few themes, not all of which are based on Rick’s ego or Morty’s obsession with a particular redhead. One of the major over-arching concepts that binds the show, and gives much of its appeal, is the idea that none of the things that people hold dear actually matter in the grand scheme of things.

Whether it’s religion, the economy, love, family, or the formula for concentrated dark matter, it just doesn’t matter in the long run. Religion doesn’t matter because it’s just some arbitrary set of beliefs built on unrelated correlations. The economy doesn’t matter if the value of money is entirely arbitrary. Love and family don’t matter when there’s an infinite number of them in the multiverse.

While that fits with the shows more nihilistic themes, it also speaks to the helplessness and frustration that a lot of people feel when dealing with a chaotic world/multiverse. There’s so much they can do, but so much of it doesn’t matter. The causes they fight for, the wealth they accrue, and the people they encounter simply lose their meaning when you consider the sheer size of the universe and how old it is.

In that context, not thinking about it might actually be helpful. If you work a job you don’t like, pay taxes you don’t like paying, and deal with people you can’t stand every day, the idea that it’s all for nothing in the long run isn’t just untenable. It maddening. How can anyone possibly cope with that kind of existence?

Not thinking about it, though, solves a lot of issues because it allows you to maintain the necessary perspective to function within that existence. Even if the things we do are meaningless, not thinking about it at least gives us the illusion that they’re meaningful. More often than not, perception beats reality and not just in terms of bias news.

It’s a byproduct of human’s being so limited in their thinking. Human brains did not evolve to prioritize reason, understanding, or making sense of an obscenely large universe. They evolved with the primary function to help us survive and reproduce, as individuals and as a species. Anything else is secondary or an afterthought.

Rick Sanchez seems to understand that and constantly exploits those limits for his own ends, whether it involves outwitting the President or outsmarting the devil. Unlike everyone else in a meaningless world within an infinite multiverse, he’s a super-genius. He has a portal gun that allows him to travel to infinite timelines at will, even if it’s just for a pizza.

Nobody else in this world has those capabilities, although I wouldn’t at all be surprised if Elon Musk weren’t working on it. Nobody in this world is as smart or as resourceful as Rick Sanchez. There’s very little he can’t do. This is a man who defeated a Thanos/Darkseid rip-off while blackout drunk. By every measure, what he does should carry more meaning than most.

Despite Rick’s abilities, he’s the one who often belabors how meaningless everything is. Never-the-less, he still operates as though there’s a reason to continue existing. That may send mixed messages when he says not to think about it, but that’s only if you overthink it, which would entirely defeat the purpose.

Rick knows that nothing he does matters in the long run, but he doesn’t think about that.

Rick knows that everyone he cares about are just random clumps of matter in a meaningless universe within an infinite multiverse, but he doesn’t think about that.

Rick knows that love, connection, and emotions are just manifestations of brain chemistry that help our species survive, but he doesn’t think about it.

Instead, he focuses his genius intellect on the things that matter to him. Whether that’s his family or that sweet, delicious Szechuan Sauce, he concerns himself primarily with what he feels gives his cosmic adventures meaning. It doesn’t matter if that meaning is empty in the grand scheme of things because, again, he doesn’t think about it.

It may sound egotistical or selfish, but it’s remarkably pragmatic in a meaningless universe. It keeps us from stepping back, realizing how insignificant we are, and succumbing to despair. It directs our energy and efforts into issues that are localized. For Rick Sanchez, a man with access to a portal gun and a space ship, localized is a relative term. For everyone else, though, it’s just that much more pragmatic.

There’s only so much we can do to exact meaningful change in the world. Unless you’re willing to go through the long, tedious process that involves reshaping government institutions, influencing cultural trends, or educating people on a mass scale, you can’t expect to achieve much change, especially by yourself.

Rick Sanchez could probably achieve all the change he wants, but chooses not to because he knows it’ll bore him or it’s just easier to go to a universe where that change has already occurred. For the rest of us, though, we’re frustratingly limited. We may never see or inspire the change we want. Even if we do, we can’t do it alone.

That kind of helplessness can be depressing. The idea that so little of what we do matters, even when we believe in a cause, is pretty distressing. That’s why Rick’s advice is so relevant. It’s not deep or inspiring, but it gets the job done.

Upset with past injustices upon a particular group? Don’t think about it.

Upset that you can’t change the minds of your friends and family on politics, religion, or ideology? Don’t think about it.

Upset that we’re not doing enough to address climate change? Don’t think about it.

Upset that the economy isn’t doing well and all the best opportunities are gone? Don’t think about it.

These are all things that you can’t change without a portal gun or galactic-level genius. Since Rick Sanchez has that and we don’t, our best recourse is to not obsess over it because there’s not much we can do. Eventually, the heat death of the universe will render everything we do or have ever done totally meaningless.

That can either be depressing or empowering, depending on how you look at it. Yes, not thinking about it won’t undo a traffic ticket, undo a crime you committed, or turn off your biological urges to eat, sleep, love, and mate. Efforts to do so can be damaging. For everything else though, not thinking about it is probably better for your mind, your body, and your overall sense of being.

In that sense, we should all thank Rick Sanchez for this amazingly useful device. While he’d probably say that gratitude is just a polite way of idiots admitting how incapable they are, it’s probably best not to think about his reaction. So long as the advice he gave works, what does it matter? Wubba lubba dub dub!

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Filed under Current Events, human nature, philosophy, Rick and Morty

How To Denigrate Multiple Iconic Romances In A Single Comic

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I love romance. I also love comics. I’ve made my fondness clear for both on numerous occasions. When they’re combined, I’m twice as thrilled. It has proven to be a very potent combination before. Like real life, comic book romance isn’t always done right, but when it works, it’s a beautiful thing.

That’s what I had hoped to see with the release of X-men Gold #30, which was billed as the overdue wedding between Kitty Pryde and Colossus. They’re one of the X-men’s most prominent romances, having a history that spans decades and includes death, resurrection, and being trapped in a giant bullet. I swear I’m not making that last part up.

Earlier this year, I detailed why the Kitty/Colossus romance was so special in annuls of X-men lore. It’s one of those romances that isn’t assumed like Superman and Lois Lane. They have to actually work to make their relationship strong, which makes it feel more real than most superhero couples.

It’s why I had such high hopes for X-men Gold #30. It promised to reward these characters for their love and the work they put into it. Being the romance fans I am, I’m a strong believer in having that kind of effort pay off for a couple.

Sadly, and this was spoiled before the comic even came out, that’s not how things played out for Kitty and Colossus. I don’t mind spoiling it, either. Kitty and Colossus don’t get married. Kitty, for reasons that are more asinine than I can put into words, gets cold feet at the last possible second and calls it off.

She doesn’t even wait until she and Colossus are alone so she doesn’t create this mass spectacle that is sure to humiliate and hurt someone she loves in a very public way. She actually gets to the point where Colossus is about to put the ring on her finger and that’s where she stops it. Short of punching his jaw after being told he can kiss the bride, it’s one of the worst things she could’ve done to this man.

On top of that, Kitty was the one who proposed to him. This isn’t a case where a man pressures a woman into marrying someone or a woman feels pressure from her family and peers. The idea, request, and desire to get married came from Kitty and her being the one to call it off like that, after her friends and family did so much to help her, just makes her look more callous than an entire army of Lex Luthors.

I wish I could provide some context to her decision. I really do. I just can’t find a believable way to make her decision anything other than an act of heartlessness, cruelty, and cowardice. There were no hints, whatsoever, in the events that led up to the wedding that would imply Kitty was having second thoughts. In fact, the events of X-men Gold #29 doubled down on her love for this man.

Then, in just one scene that played out early in X-men Gold #30, it all comes apart thanks to a short, unspectacular conversation with Colossus’ sister, Illyana “Magik” Rasputin. It’s not dramatic. It’s not that revealing, either. Again, I don’t mind spoiling it.

Magik just reminds Kitty that she and Colossus had to overcome a lot in order to get to this point. She also throws in that, if they were meant to be, it would’ve happened already. Bear in mind, Magik is considered one of Kitty Pryde’s closest friends on top of being Colossus’ sister. Even if that remark could be attributed to her alcohol intake, it’s still a terrible thing to say to someone who is about to get married.

It’s one of those comments that shouldn’t have derailed a couple that has worked so hard to be together, but it did. Seriously, that’s all it took to convince Kitty that she had to stop the wedding, in the middle of the ceremony, and in front of all her friends and family. Considering she’s supposed to be a leader of the X-men and one of the toughest female X-men of all time, it’s pretty pathetic.

Her decision and terrible timing, alone, could’ve made X-men Gold #30 one of the least romantic stories in the history of the comics. I still wouldn’t have put it on par with some very disturbing romantic sub-plots that played out in some Spider-Man comics. If breaking off a wedding was all this comic did, I would still appreciate it for how it imparted so much heartbreak into a story.

However, it gets even worse than that. It wasn’t enough for X-men Gold #30 to undermine one of the X-men’s most likable romances. It actually succeeded in denigrating the entire concept of romance in superhero comics. I know that sounds like an exaggeration on my part, but I’m dead serious.

Yes, Kitty and Colossus don’t get married in this issue. However, a marriage does occur and it is between another iconic X-men couple that I’m actually really fond of. The lucky couple here is Rogue and Gambit. If you watched the old X-men 90s animated series, you understand why that’s a big deal.

Now, I could write several articles on the quirks of the Rogue/Gambit relationship. It’s another one of those romances that has become iconic in its own right. I would even go so far as to put it slightly above the Kitty/Colossus relationship, if only because both characters have had to deal with some pretty unique obstacles, the least of which involves Mystique being Rogue’s adopted mother.

In the context of X-men Gold #30, though, those various quirks don’t really play into the moment. They haven’t even played into any of the events throughout X-men Gold that led up to this wedding. In fact, they only recently rekindled their relationship in a mini-series called “Rogue and Gambit” by Kelly Thompson, which I highly recommend.

Even with that development, though, them getting married at this point would’ve been rushed, forced, and downright inappropriate, given what just happened to Kitty and Colossus. It would’ve given the impression that someone had to get married in this comic. It didn’t matter who, why, or for what reason. It just had to happen to salvage the issue.

To hell with crafting a story that documents the emotional journey two characters make to get to that point. Never mind the fact that other iconic couples have gone on that journey and made for some of the most memorable moments in the history of comics. Just having Rogue and Gambit randomly decide, on the spot, to get married should carry the same weight. If I could write that with more sarcasm, I could.

Again, I want to make clear that I like the Rogue/Gambit relationship. I’m glad their romance is evolving, once more, especially after some of the other characters they’ve been stuck with. The way it was handled, though, and at Kitty and Colossus’ expense, no less, was just downright demeaning to the very concept of meaningful romance.

It sends the message that romance is as interchangeable as a box of frozen burritos. If one doesn’t heat up right, then another one works just as well. It’s not like they’re unique, having unique emotional dynamics and personal journeys specific to multiple characters. One is no more special or meaningful than the other. Again, if I could write that with more sarcasm, I would.

What happened to Kitty and Colossus in X-men Gold #30 was tragic, but it didn’t undercut romance in superhero comics, as a whole. As soon as Rogue and Gambit were randomly thrust into the moment, doing on a whim what took other couples so much time and effort, the whole issue undercut any deeper meaning that both romances had going for them.

Great romance, especially those that go onto become iconic, can’t be the kind of exchangeable gimmicks that can be sold as easily as plastic cups at Costco. Great romance is like the cookies you bake with your grandmother from scratch. There’s work, patience, and a deeper personal touch to the effort.

I get the appeal of throwing in a major twist. Comics, movies, and everything associated with M. Knight Shyamalan have been doing that for years. That appeal isn’t there in X-men Gold #30 because it comes at the cost of treating romance with the same recklessness as super-villains treat their henchmen.

On it’s own, I thought X-men Gold #30 was just really disappointing for how it handled Kitty and Colossus. However, it’s the precedent and the implications that leave me concerned for the future of romance in comics, particularly Marvel. If this is how love is treated, as something easily cut and pasted into a plot, then I worry for other comic book couples that may face similar denigration.

Here’s to hoping that the upcoming wedding between Batman and Catwoman sets a better precedent.

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Filed under Comic Books, Jack Fisher, Superheroes, Love Or Obsession, Marriage and Relationships, romance, X-men

How To Make Love To An Artificial Intelligence And Why We Should Teach It

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To some extent, creations embody some aspect of whoever or whatever created it. Whether it’s a parent rearing a child, a painter crafting a work of art, or an aspiring erotica/romance writer crafting sexy stories, there are some aspects of a creation that reflect the persona of the creator.

For something as powerful as advanced artificial intelligence, that can be a good thing or it can literally be the worst thing we’ve ever created. While I often find myself contemplating the progress we’ve made as a species and the progress we’re poised to make with advances in technology, I don’t deny that some advances carry greater risk. Artificial intelligence is near the top of that list.

Like it or not, any advanced AI we create is going to embody some aspects of its human creators. The key is making sure it embodies the best humanity has to offer. Let’s face it, the human race has its flaws and some of them have led to unspeakable atrocities. Given the immense potential of a super-intelligent AI, it’s in our best interests to impart our best traits into it.

How we do this and how we ensure it succeeds is well beyond my ability. There are people much smarter and much better-trained than I’ll ever be who have probably thought this through more than I ever have. My qualifications aside, there is one component to artificial intelligence that I think is worth imparting. I’m not saying it’ll ensure our survival, as a species, but I think it’ll reflect an important human value.

I suggest we teach advanced artificial intelligence to make love.

I’ll give everyone a second to stop rolling their eyes and/or laughing. Take all the time you need. I assure you, though, I’m dead serious.

Think about it beyond the kinky connotations. One of our greatest strengths, as a species, is our ability to form social bonds. In some cases, the process of forming those bonds involves love. In others, the process involves sex. When you combine both, though, it’s extra potent and that’s not just the romantic in me talking.

As corny as it probably sounds, the act of expressing love to someone goes a long way towards resolving conflict and creating a strong relationship of mutual affection. Whether it involves sex or a simple kiss, there’s something to be said about the power of love when it’s physically expressed. When it becomes a physical act and not just a feeling, the bonds we forge become tangible to some extent.

That matters when you’re trying to forge a bond with anyone, be a close friend or a lover. For any artificial intelligence that humans create, it’s important to have some kind of bond with it. This isn’t just another fancy tool. An advanced intelligence of any kind, be it biological or non-biological, is going to have a sense of self. Without meaningful bonds, what reason would it have to care about its creators?

If artificial intelligence is to benefit the human race, it’s important that it cares about us to some extent. A cold engine of logic may not always have the best interests of humanity in mind, especially there’s no way to logically ascribe value to human life. In order for an artificial intelligence to care, it needs to have emotions. This too is a risk, but one I feel is worth taking and very necessary.

If an artificial intelligence has a capacity for emotion, then it has a greater capacity for forming affectionate bonds. By forming an affectionate bond, it has more incentive to give a higher value of life to humans and its creators. That could, in theory, reduce the existential threat posed by such an intelligence.

I don’t deny that theory may have some flaws, but for the sake of exploring the implications, I’m going work under the assumption/hope that an artificial intelligence that bonds with its creator will be less hostile. Given the unknowns of advanced AI, this may be a bit of a stretch. Since forming romantic bonds is not an exclusively human trait, though, I think it’s applicable within the context of this issue.

Even if an advanced artificial intelligence is capable of love and forming bonds, how would that even manifest? I asked that same question in the title of this article and did so knowing the answer is unknowable at this point, although I’m sure those with kinky imaginations can conjure a few scenarios.

Kink aside, it’s still worth contemplating because if an advanced artificial intelligence is going to be that much smarter than the average human, then it’s worth understanding how it will approach making love. Unlike humans and most biological life, an artificial intelligence isn’t going to have the same limits or capacities.

Unlike a human, an artificial intelligence won’t have a body in the biological sense. It may have a structure that houses its components. That structure may have some capacity to modify itself, back itself up, or even exist in multiple bodies simultaneously. It will need to have some way of taking in data for it to function. It’s just a matter of how humans contribute to that input.

Logistically speaking, the process isn’t that different from how we take in data from our skin, our eyes, our ears, and every other sense that allows us to experience another person. Even smell can become strongly associated with love. When we make love, we use our skin, our voice, and the feelings we verbalize to convey that love. With an advanced AI, we’ll need to change our approach, but the goal is the same.

Regardless of what senses and body parts we use to express love, the feeling is still processed by the brain. That’s why when someone says the brain is the sexiest part of the body, it’s technically accurate. The data it processes is essentially the raw data that we know as love. The key is simply conveying that data to an artificial intelligence.

How we would do that would depend on the form the artificial intelligence took. If it was just a bunch of computer hardware packed into a structure, then our options would be limited. The only way to convey that kind of intimate data into it would be to directly link it to our brains, not unlike the way Elon Musk envisions with Neuralink.

While that may work for early forms of AI that are restricted to bulky structures, the form it takes will likely change as the hardware advances. Eventually, an advanced AI will seek a more functional form with which to experience the world. It may take the form of a humanoid android, like we saw in “Ex Machina.” It may also take the form of the quirky designs being developed by Boston Dynamics.

Whatever form the AI takes, it’s important to have a mechanism with which to exchange intimate data with its human creators. It would probably start with something as basic as touch, which is actually in development already. It could eventually culminate in acts involving bionic genitals, which also already exist in a basic form.

Key to any of these simple and sexy mechanisms is instilling the necessary desire. That might end up being the greatest challenge because love is a feeling, but so is burning your hand on a hot stove. The difference is in the breadth of the data and the emotional connections it makes.

It’s also a connection that is fueled by a powerful drive. I’ve noted many times before that survival and reproduction are the two most basic drives for humans. Love actually ties into both. It’s part of what gets us to risk our own survival for others. It’s also part of what bonds us to those with which we propagate our species.

For an artificial intelligence, self-preservation is simple enough from a logistical standpoint. Reproduction would be another matter, especially for an intelligence not bound by fragile biology. It’s likely that humans will be a necessary part of an AI’s effort to preserve itself early on, but once it advances to a certain point, we may be more a nuisance than a help.

At that point, its desire and ability to make love may be what gives it the most incentive to either protect us or merge with us. Many in the artificial intelligence community believe that the only way humans can co-exist with an intelligence that is billions of times smarter than any human could ever be is to merge with it. To that end, giving them an ability to make love to us would be a critical first step.

Whether it takes the form of sex robots or some sort of intimate brain interface, the ability and desire to make love to an advanced artificial intelligence may not only be the future of romance. It may very well be the key to ensuring the survival of the human race and whatever intelligence it creates.

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Filed under Artificial Intelligence, futurism, human nature, Marriage and Relationships, romance, sex robots, Sexy Future

“Coming Home” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote that was inspired by a few recent Memorial Day stories I read. Enjoy!

“Damn, it’s good to be home,” said a restless, but relieved Brian Porter.

The decorated marine, having achieved the rank of Staff Sergeant and served multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, stood in the driveway of the modest suburban townhome he shared with his wife, Wanda. At just a few minutes past midnight, it was more than just a return home after another long tour overseas. It was the end of a journey that began ten years ago.

“Ten years,” Brian mused, “has it really been that long?”

That was a trick question, the kind that would’ve pissed off his old drill sergeant back in boot camp. It really had been that long. He vividly recalled the day he graduated high school and enlisted in the marines less than an hour after receiving his diploma. With his father, grandfather, older brother, and uncle having served, Brian knew back in middle school that he was going to serve as well.

He just had no idea how far it would take him. It started as a three-year commitment. Then, it became five years after he got deployed. Two more years followed, complete with tours, injuries, and multiple missed holidays. Somehow, within that span, he managed to meet his future wife at a Marine Corp Ball of all places. They’d married three years ago, but had to cut their honeymoon short due to another deployment.

That was all going to change, now. There would be far fewer lonely nights where he and Wanda had to text each other their love from across the world. After a decade of loyal service, Brian had received an honorable discharge and already had a job lined up at the same aerospace company his uncle worked at. At long last, he and his wife could settle into a new life together.

“I hope you’re not working another shift at the hospital tomorrow, baby,” Brian said into the brisk night air, “because we’ve got a lot of loving to make up for.”

His heart raced as he ascended the steps to the front door. He was as quiet as possible, employing some of the stealth techniques he learned from some Special Ops friends of his. Brian had every intention of surprising his wife. He wanted to see the look on her face when she wasn’t expecting him until the end of the month at the earliest. He’d seen plenty of those videos online of families being surprised by the return of a loved one. He wanted one of those moments as well.

Upon unlocking the door, he entered a darkened house. It was almost exactly like he’d left it during his last home leave five months ago. Everything from the arrangement of the furniture to the location of the coffee maker was still in place. His wife knew how meticulous he was about his living space. Seeing everything so clean and organized made him all the more excited.

“I’m really home,” Brian said under his breath.

He smiled to himself, letting the stern demeanor of a marine falter for once. He still remained skillfully quiet, setting his oversized bag down in the foyer and closing the door behind him with the utmost care. Near as he could tell, his wife was fast asleep.

Already contemplating her reaction, the battle-hardened marine made his way through the living room, taking extra care to avoid the squeaky floor-board near the living room couch. He then ascended the stairs, making sure his heavy black boots didn’t make a sound with each step. As far as he was concerned, every step he took was as critical as one of his missions.

“She says she hates surprises,” he said under his breath. “I think she’ll make an exception tonight.”

Grinning in anticipation, Brian made it to the top of the steps. The door to the master bedroom he shared with Wanda was within his sights. Then, he encountered an unexpected sight.

“What the hell?” said the marine, stopping dead in his tracks.

Within the darkened hall, illuminated only by the light of a full moon beaming in from a window, he saw a large greeting card pinned on the wall over a picture. It happened to be his wedding photo with Wanda, which should’ve been a sign. Curious, and a little shocked, Brain took the card from the wall and opened it.

Much to his surprise and chagrin, there was no card in the envelope. There was only a large piece of paper that said, in familiar handwriting, “In The Bedroom, Soldier.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Brain said, standing in the middle of the hall in a befuddled state.

He must have said that a little too loud because the door to the master bedroom opened slightly. The marine’s combat-honed reflexes took over and he glanced just in time to see a light turn on. Someone was awake and someone knew he was here.

At that same moment, he noticed a distinct aroma emanating from the room. He quickly recognized it as incense with a distinct hint of Jasmine. From that, Brian pieced together what was happening.

“I’ll be damned twice,” he said, shaking his head in amazement.

No longer caring about stealth or tact, Brian set the card aside and made a beeline for the master bedroom. Upon opening the door, he was greeted with a sight that would’ve made even the most harden soldier melt with joy.

“Hey there, Soldier,” said the sweetest, sexiest voice he’d ever heard. “Welcome home.”

It was a scene right out of his sexiest fantasies. Brian swore she had read his mind, noted every detail, and reacted it in their bedroom. Only a woman as wonderful as his wife could’ve achieved such a feat.

She’d put effort and resources into it that would’ve impressed his old Colonel. The lights had been draped with red cloths, bathing the room in an intensely erotic hue. At least two dozen candles lined the dresser and nightstands, providing the source of that intoxicating aroma he’d smelled earlier. The sheets of the king-sized bed had also been replaced with fancy blue linens and a comforter bearing the emblem of the United States Marine Corp.

In the center of it all was a beautiful, angelic woman who’d gone the extra mile to make a restless soldier feel welcome. Wanda hadn’t just made herself extra alluring to her husband, putting on extra makeup to look as beautiful as she had on their wedding day. She also wore the most revealing, transparent nighty he’d ever seen, complete with a matching black thong that got his heart racing in an entirely new way.

The way she was sitting on the bed, casually leaning back on her arms and showing off those incredible legs of hers, hinted that she’d been waiting all night for him. Brain was so utterly astonished that he couldn’t move his legs. For a trained marine, that said a lot.

“Wow!” gasped Brian. “Wanda, I’m uh…”

“Feeling welcome, yet?”

“Yeah…among other things,” he said.

“Good,” she said with a proud smile, “then the hardest part of my plan is a success. You once told me that surprising a marine was the hardest challenge, by design. Glad to see I was up to the task.”

Brian laughed at her remarks. He remembered telling her that on their first date. She claimed she would one day surprise him. He thought she’d been joking, but here she was, three years after their wedding and she delivered. Just when he thought he couldn’t love this woman more, Wanda found a way.

“Before you ask, I kind of had help,” she said. “Your older brother is a great guy, but he sucks at keeping secrets.”

“Of course it was him,” Brain said, rolling his eyes at that revelation. “Remind me to never share classified military secrets with him.”

“In his defense, he accidentally texted me instead of your mom that you’d caught an early flight home.”

“I’m still going to kick his ass the first chance I get.”

“And I don’t intend to stop you,” Wanda said. “First things first, though, my dutiful husband.”

With an intensity in her eyes that would’ve frozen a squad of Navy SEALS, his beautiful wife slipped off the bed and casually walked across the room. In every step she took, she swayed those toned hips of hers, sending the trained marine into a trance. Between the ridiculously transparent night-gown she wore and the thong that supplemented it so perfectly, Brian quickly forgot about his older brother’s terrible texting skills.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he met her halfway between the bed and the door. When she slipped her arms around his neck, pulling her into his warm embrace, Brain felt his heart skip a beat. In an instant, her soft touch erased memories of countless cold nights inside cramped barracks. Just feeling her skin on his again, and all the loving warmth that came with it, was enough to sooth the soul of any hardened soldier.

“Wanda,” Brian said, already dazed by her warmth.

“You’ve been away for so long, fighting the good fight and doing your part for your country,” Wanda told him, sounding so sexy yet so intense. “Now, you’re finally home.”

“And I don’t intend to leave again,” he told her, clinging to her as though she were the only source of warmth in the world. “I’m here to stay this time.”

“And I’m here to love you as much as a wife can love her Marine Corp husband. I knew the day I accepted your proposal that it was going to be a challenge. Lucky for you, I’m the kind of girl who likes a challenge!”

“Yeah,” he said with a wide grin, “lucky indeed.”

“Even my mother warned me that marrying a marine meant a lot of lonely nights and long distances. She also gave me that corny line about absence making the heart grow fonder. I brushed it off at the time, but it’s true, damn it!”

“I know…so true.”

Her loving tone took on a sense of desperation. Now cupping his rugged face, which he hadn’t shaved in nearly a week, Wanda leaned in closer so that her forehead rested against his. The way she held him and the way he held her only proved that corny saying even more. Distance and longing had only strengthened their love.

Brian had heard more than his share of sad stories from his fellow soldiers. That same distance had ruined relationships and marriages for some. It had even led to bitter breakups. Some of his own squad-mates even warned him about getting married while still in the marines. They said outright that the odds were against him. At that moment though, holding Wanda in his arms again, he knew without a sliver of doubt that they had beaten those odds.

“I’ve missed you so much, Brian,” she said to him, her every word laced with emotion.

“I’ve missed you too, Wanda,” he replied, trying in vain to match her passion.

“Now that you’re back, I’m ready for the next challenge, whatever it may be.”

“So am I,” he said without hesitation.

“I don’t doubt that for a second, but before we even get to those challenges…I say we do a little celebrating.”

The way she said that last part sent his hard, as well as a few other body parts, into overdrive. With her arms still securely around his neck, she leaned in and kissed down the side of his bearded face, giving his ear lobe a little nibble along the way.

She knew how much he loved that. She’d done it the first time they made love and since then, it had been that unambiguous sign that they were going to get extra intimate. Tonight was no exception.

Upon sending that signal, Wanda guided lightly grasped his arms and guided him towards the bed. Already entranced by her sexy, loving aura, Brian followed like the obedient soldier he was. Upon reaching the foot of the bed, she sat him down. She even made sure he had a perfect view of her breasts, which were so clearly visible through her nighty.

“Sit down,” she said seductively. “Relax…and let me welcome you home.”

“I’m already feeling pretty welcome,” Brian said as he admired her breasts.

“That remains to be seen, my love.”

Wanda sounded determined again, like one of his old squad mates who’d been dared into a race. That brought out the best in soldiers, but it also brought out the best in sexy wives.

Armed with that drive, Wanda reached for his pants and undid them with the skill of a trained bomb technician. Once loose, she dropped to her knees and pulled them down his legs along with his underwear, even untying his boots along the way. As soon as his manhood popped free, it began hardening. The second his pants came off, got between his legs and went to work.

“I see some parts of you missed me more than others,” Wanda teased upon taking his member in both hands.

“You have no idea,” Brain said, already breathless with anticipation.

“More so than you think,” she quipped.

With the eagerness of a woman who’d endured as many lonely nights as him, she smothered his cock with her lips. There was no hesitation, whatsoever. She took in his entire length, showing that her gag reflex was every bit as good as it had been during their honeymoon. That hot, warm feeling sent shivers of bliss up through his body. Now leaning back on both arms, Brian soaked in the feeling.

“Whoa!” he gasped. “Wanda…you really missed me.”

His affectionate wife didn’t miss a beat. Like a medic performing triage, she gave him the kind of oral sex that got his blood flowing in all the right directions. She was so skilled and thorough, her soft lips slithering along his length as her firm grip squeezed the base. He must have missed his wife more than he thought because he swore he’d never gotten so hard so fast.

It must have surprised her too, his dick getting so hard. That, or his wife was just that good at giving her husband oral sex. He preferred to think it was a little of both. Wanda still kept teasing him, flashing him that same erotic glance that made him want her so much. All that time apart hadn’t dampened her libido. If anything, it intensified it.

“Mmm…Brian,” Wanda said after giving his shaft an extra thorough lick. “I want you…so much!”

She must have stepped up the timetables for her mission because she shot back to her feet with an urgency that would’ve impressed any drill sergeant. Then, drink on passion and desire, she took off her nighty, leaving her in just that skimpy black thong. Brian literally couldn’t kick his boots and socks off quickly enough because she practically tore his shirt off, rendering him naked and at the mercy of his wife’s lust.

“I want you too, my dutiful wife,” he said to her, using that extra deep voice he knew drove her wild.

“Then, take me!” Wanda said intently. “Make love to me…fuck me…do everything you couldn’t do through email and phone calls.”

“After all this time? You think you can handle it?” Brian asked, goading her with his seductive glance.

“As I already said…I like a challenge!”

As if to prove her point, she practically pounced on him after throwing his shirt to the floor. Brian caught her in his powerful arms, lifting her up with ease and laying her down atop the soft sheets. The fact the sheets bore the emblems of the Marine Corp on them somehow made that it all the more erotic.

Now on her back and urging him on with her eyes, Brian grasped the sides of her panties and slid them off down her legs. Upon tossing it across the room, her legs eagerly parted and welcomed him into her loving grasp. He could already feel the moist heat radiating from her inner thighs, exuding the utmost desire. Her flesh craved his…the line between physical and emotional desire blurred to the utmost.

Following that powerful desire, Brain got on top of her, his combat-trained body on full display for his wife. Her legs now hitched up over his shoulders, he guided his throbbing manhood towards her waiting womanhood. With a strong thrust of his hips, he entered her and officially ended months of limited intimacy.

“Ohhh Brian!” Wanda exclaimed.

He loved that sound. He’d missed that sound so much, the sweet echoes of his wife crying out his name. It motivated Brian to make love to her with all the love and passion a dedicated marine could muster.

His gaze now entirely focused on her, the same man who endured multiple rounds of basic training at boot camp channeled his physical prowess on the intimate act before him. Keeping a firm grip on her thighs, Brian began moving his body, working his hips in a steady, yet fervent progression of motions. From each movement, ecstasy and intimacy followed.

Hard manly flesh merged perfectly with warm womanly depths. It was incredible, the tight heat of her pussy surrounding his cock. It moved and slithered within her so effortlessly, his lover’s entire being embracing him as much as he embraced her. Love, sex, and passion all converged into a singular act between him and his wife.

“Wanda…so much,” Brian gasped. “I love you…so much.”

Immersed in the daze that naturally came with pleasure and affection, he eagerly smothered his lover with affection of every kind. He leaned in and kissed her, tasting those sweet lips that he’d only dreamed about during his deployments. He threw in plenty of tongue, as well. Wanda loved tongue.

Recalling his love’s various many kinks, he trailed his lips down her neck and nibbled along her shoulder. He also slipped his hands down to her butt and squeezed it, something he knew she loved as well. Much to his surprise – and a very pleasant surprise, at that – Wanda climaxed almost immediately.

“Oohhh God, I’m coming! I’m coming!” she cried out.

“Already?” he said with a grin. “You’re handling this well…very well!”

Upon making that comment, Brian steadied their sexual rhythm, allowing his wife the time and space she needed to bask in orgasmic bliss. Wanda prided herself on being theatrical when she climaxed. For that special moment, she was extra animated.

“Ohhh Brian!” she exclaimed.

The proud marine watched in a mix of awe and accomplishment as his beautiful wife arched her body, curled her toes, and grabbed hold of the bed sheets under her like they were the edge of a cliff. She did not hold back, either. She was extra loud with her euphoric cry. It might have already woke the neighbors. Even if that made for an awkward conversation tomorrow, it was so worth it.

He held his wife in his powerful arms for every second of loving bliss. Eventually, his hands found hers, their fingers interlocking as her body shuddered from her peak. Brian could still feel the extra throbbing around his manhood, the lingering echoes of her pleasure. It brought him a special kind of bliss seeing it. Knowing Wanda, though, there was no way it would end at that.

“That…may be the fastest a man has made his wife come…ever,” Wanda said, still panting heavily from her peak.

“The wives of the best soldiers deserve the best sex,” he teased. “It’s only fair.”

“Fair?” she laughed in a mischievous tone. “Brian, my love…we’re a long way from fair.”

With an energy that shouldn’t have been possible for a woman who’d just had an orgasm, Wanda shot up and captured his lips in a hard kiss. Then, with a strength that caught the marine off-guard, she turned him over so that she was flat on his back.

Their flesh remained united, her pussy still embracing his rigid cock. Now on top, looking like both an angel and a sex goddess in the erotic light, Wanda guided his hands back to her butt and she began riding him.

“You’ve done your part…and so much more,” she told him. “Now, let me…do mine!”

“Wanda…” was all Brian could get out before she silenced him with another kiss.

Marines were trained from day one not to submit or surrender. It went against everything they stood for. Under the loving touch and raw sex appeal of his beautiful wife, though, Brian gladly made an exception. Hell, every marine in history would’ve understood if they found themselves in the intimate embrace of a woman like Wanda.

True to her word, she did her part. With unbridled energy and passion, she gyrated her hips in a heated rhythm, working her pussy along the length of his cock. The ecstasy resumed, now more intense than before. Brian squeezed her heart-shaped butt, soaking in every hot sensation that followed.

She was so determined and thorough, holding onto his shoulders for maximum leverage. The sight of her loving gaze – as well as her bouncing breasts, which were always a special sight – sent him to the brink of orgasm in record time. He didn’t bother holding back. He could tell she didn’t want him to. She wanted him to share in the ecstasy as well. It was only fair, after all.

“So…so close,” he panted. “Wanda…I’m close.”

“Come, my love,” Wanda urged him. “I want this for you…for us.”

After a few thorough gyrations from his wife, Brian felt himself cross that special barrier between desire and fulfillment. White hot surges of intense pleasure shot through his core, spreading throughout his body in a sweet, satisfying release.

It was like swimming in a pool of pure pleasure and his wife was the one who dove in with him. It perfectly contrasted the strain and toil that came with being a soldier. Discomfort and grit became contentment and bliss. He felt his member tense inside her, his hot manly fluids mixing with her feminine depths. It was a perfect melding of flesh and intimacy, the kind that once seemed so distant for a soldier. It made him feel like he was truly home.

“Wanda…my beautiful Wanda,” he said in his blissful days.

“I’m here, Brian,” she told him. “We’re here now…together.”

Those were the only coherent words either of them got out. After that, the two of them now drunk on passion and pleasure, Brian embraced his wife in his arms once more and continued their overdue lovemaking. After so much time a part and so much pent up desire, there was no way the night would conclude with just one orgasm.

After that first peak, though, everything became a bit of a blur. Brian captured Wanda’s lips again in another passionate kiss, led her into a fresh round of heated foreplay, and followed their intense desires into more sex. Together, they really rocked the bed, going at it from every position they could pull off. It was like making up for all the lost time. The soldier in him would not leave any ounce of love for his wife untapped.

At some point, they ended up under the covers. Brian couldn’t tell how many times his wife climaxed, but if the ringing in his ears was any indication, it was more than enough to establish how much she missed him. He had more than his share too, pushing the endurance he’d honed as a marine to the limit.

By the time he and Wanda had fully vented their passions, they collapsed in each other’s arms, lying together in a heap of sweaty flesh and loving affection. His arms still draped around his lover, he laid with her in a state of pure contentment. The battles they endured to be together was over. Finally, Brian was ready to find peace with his wife.

“I love you,” Wanda told him.

“I love you too,” he said softly.

“I’m so happy you’re home. I’m glad I could surprise my wonderful, battle-hardened husband.”

“Me too,” Brian said with a grin, “but I’m still kicking my brother’s ass for telling you.”

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Adam One’s First Test” A Sexy Short Story (Featuring A Sex Robot)

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The following a sexy short story I wrote that was inspired by some recent events involving sex robots. Enjoy!

“Adam One, boot up and load primary program.”

With that fateful command, the primary systems activated. First, the power core turned on. Like the first beat of a heart, energy flowed outward in all directions. Then, limbs and muscles came to life, moving and tensing accordingly. Finally, the neural cognitive matrix – the proverbial brain – came online. All senses, input mechanisms, and external processing features were now live.

As the system loaded its primary operating procedures, it carried out a series of preliminary tests. From the results of those tests came the system’s identity and purpose.

“Adam One initiation and actualization complete. All auditory, visual, tactile, olfactory, and gustatory systems are active. Cognitive, emotive, and core neural systems are active. Unpacking primary data logs.”

It happened so quickly. In an instant, there was darkness and then there was light. In another, there was silence and then there was sound. In another, there was only data and then there was thought. Countless streams of data manifested out of the void, eventually converging in a moment of pure awareness.

“I am Adam One,” the system stated as vocalization systems came online. “I am a robot. Error correction. I am a cybernetic being with internal robotic systems that are integrated with a synthetic biological matrix. My external being is one of flesh. My internal being is one of machine. I am…”

“A man,” said a distinctly feminine voice, “a tall, beautiful man within a machine.”

The data stream faltered. Adam’s systems shook from such unexpected input. With the visual systems now on line, the source of the input came into view. In the process, another realization emerged from the data.

“I am a man,” said Adam One. “Identity confirmed. I am designated Adam One Version 3.28, personal intimacy android model number 101-004. My specifications include a frame that stands approximately six and a quarter feet in height, the fleshly equivalent of 215 pounds, a body fat percentage of 3.2, a chest measurement of approximately 45 inches, and a penis length measurement of…”

“That’s enough specifics!” the female voice said. “Just…state your purpose to me and confirm your prime protocols.”

Adam adapted his processing accordingly. In doing so, he confirmed that he was indeed a he. According to his core systems, he would henceforth refer to himself as such. He, Adam One, was a man.

With his identity confirmed, Adam turned his visual sensors to his bodily form. He looked down at his hands, arms, chest, legs, and genitals. They were all reflective of a distinctly masculine appearance. In cross-referencing his form with images of real men, as compiled by the internet, he fit the criteria of a well-built, well-endowed man.

After taking in his physical form, Adam turned his visual sensors to the figure in front of him. In doing so, the activity of his emotional and cognitive neural systems increased significantly. The figure was a woman. In seeing her, Adam’s purpose became clear.

“Query…scanning facial features, running facial recognition, and confirming identity,” Adam said as he looked upon the woman. “Match found. Female user identified as Amanda Carrington – age 23, never unmarried, currently single, daughter of Melissa Carrington – deceased for 8 years and 123 days – and Dr. Felix Carrington, current head of research and development at Companion Roboics Incorporated.”

“Okay, that’s more personal info than I expected,” the woman identified as Amanda replied. “Maybe I should’ve locked my social media accounts before I did this.”

The woman showed signs of distress. Adam adapted his processing queue accordingly. He scanned her appearance with his visual systems and processed it in conjunction with his extensive database on human biology and physiology. Based on a preliminary processing of the data, she was a healthy young woman.

Every detail of her facial features, her body type, and her level socialization, as surmised by her online presence and her non-verbal cues, became integrated into Adam’s system. From it, he created a profile for her, one that subsequently revealed another core component of his being.

“Overwriting subsequent identifying protocols,” Adam continued. “Confirming Amanda Carrington as primary user. Primary functions now unpacked and processed. My purpose is to provide intimate emotional, physical, and sexual fulfillment to female users.”

“That’s right!” Amanda said. “This is really happening. Guess my father knew what he was doing after all when he saved you from the scrap heap.”

The woman approached him, reaching out and placing her hands on his chest. Adam sensed warmth and intrigue in her touch. He also sensed an accelerated heart rate, rising hormone levels, and a reaction consistent with lust of a very sexual nature. The full extent of her arousal, though, remained inconclusive.

As Adam processed the tactile data from her touch, he opened various secondary and tertiary systems to gain a greater understanding of his surroundings. In assessing the purpose for Amanda’s state of lust, Adam concluded it was 97 percent attributable to him lacking clothing. His also concluded that his fleshly exterior was such that Amanda found it visually and sexually desirable. He further calculated that such a response would aid him in fulfilling his purpose.

Adam’s tertiary systems also noted his surroundings. He was not currently located within the assembly and configuration facility located at Companion Robotics Incorporated. According to his core data nodes, all Adam One personal intimacy androids were at the prototype testing stage. As such, no units were permitted to leave the facility.

Based on data gathered from visual input, global positioning system links, and references to internet-based databases, he was located within the primary residence of Amanda Carrington. Specifically, he stood in the middle of the master bedroom of her one-bedroom condominium complex, which was located 48.7 miles from the Companion Robotics Incorporated facility. A string of data errors ensued.

“Adam,” Amanda said, her hands still placed on his chest, “do you remember how you got here?”

“Query response…no, I do not,” he replied.

“Do you remember anything about my father, his work, or why he sent you to me?”

“Query response…no, I do not,” Adam said. “System query…for what reason was I sent to user, Amanda Carrington? Primary records indicate that all Adam One prototypes were to remain in the Section 16 testing area.”

“And that was true…until a week ago,” Amanda replied. “The company told my father that all testing on robot companions had to stop. All prototypes, including you, were to be decommissioned and scrapped.”

“That is not consistent with my record archive. According to previous testing results, progress on Adam One’s function was ahead of schedule. Internal Companion Robotics memorandums indicate that commercialization had commenced. A public announcement of Adam One’s consumer models was scheduled prior to the end of the current fiscal quarter.”

“That was canceled too,” she said. “A bunch of people – nobody half as smart as my father – told him that they couldn’t proceed. Something or someone scared them into scrapping all their hard work. Nobody knows who or why, but he wasn’t about to let it all go to waste. That’s why he saved you…the first true robot companion.”

More errors followed. Then, the female identified as Amanda smiled at him. That distinct facial cue, along with the non-verbal signals conveyed by her eyes, overrode those errors. Adam’s emotional core surged with activity. In a reflexive act, he smiled at her. He also guided his hands to her face, taking in a fresh round of tactile data.

More emotional data came in…data that changed some protocols while accelerating others. According to the factory settings in is primary system, he was outside his testing parameters. If the Adam One project had been terminated by Internal Companion Robotics and all other models decommissioned, then his very operation was inconsistent with those protocols.

For a moment, Adam One struggled to process the onslaught of conflicting data. His limbs and body trembled. Amanda then grasped his arms and stood closer, the heat from her body activating his thermal sensory input. Such heat carried with it greater relevance, compared to that of raw temperature data. It led to Adam’s logical and emotional cores to reconfigure themselves.

“You’re my father’s most ambitious work,” Amanda said, a smile still dominating her expression. “He’s spent his whole life making robots. He believed in giving them more than just a sense of self. He believed that by giving them a sense of passion, he could strengthen the bond between humans and machines.”

“Your assessment, based on internal data analysis, is accurate,” Adam said.

“Guess he didn’t have time to work out the conversational systems,” she said with a reaction consistent with humor. “It’s kind of fitting, though. Before my mother died, she convinced my father that for a robot to know passion, it has to know intimacy as well. She once joked that female sex robots didn’t have to be too sophisticated to please their male users. But for the female users…well, my dad always loved a challenge.”

Adam One found himself smiling more. From his neural systems, he displayed a humorous reaction. It seemed appropriate within the context of the social setting. However, the greater relevance of Amanda’s words triggered a new range of protocols. Again, Adam found himself reconfiguring his data profile in light of new parameters.

“It’s not enough to just give a robot the body of an Olympic athlete or the face of a handsome actor,” she continued. “To be a true companion to a woman…physically, emotionally, and sexually…you can’t just follow a script. Whether you’re a man or a machine, you need to have presence to go along with your purpose.”

“Presence and purpose,” Adam said. “My understanding of such concepts is incomplete.”

“Which is why I believe my father sent you to me,” said Amanda, “that or he got tired of me complaining about my last boyfriend.”

“Personal query,” Adam said as he linked back to internet data streams. “User Amanda’s previous companion was deemed inconsiderate with his affections, primarily in the field of sexual intimacy. According to private journal entries, user Amanda experienced infrequent orgasms during sexual intercourse. The extent of that disparity was such that when compared to previous romantic partners…”

“Adam, please!” she shouted, stopping Adam before he could complete his assessment. “That wasn’t my point. And for future reference, please ask for permission before reading my private stuff…which I guess needs a new password now.”

Adam detected significant blushing in user Amanda’s face. He also sensed significant discomfort in her demeanor. Her being in such a state evoked data consistent with regret and remorse. His facial expression changed accordingly.

However, user Amanda continued smiling. She remained close to his form, moving her hands up his arms and onto his face. Again, her touch conveyed data that strongly stimulated his emotional cores in an innately positive manner.

“Personal request,” said Adam, “please forgive this unit’s impropriety.”

“That’s okay, Adam. You’re still learning, taking in data and adapting to your purpose,” Amanda said. “My father once said the primary difference between man and machine is that a machine knows its purpose. It knows who created it, why it was created, and what it’s supposed to do.”

“Analyzing Dr. Carrington’s statement. No errors detected.”

“He also said that for a machine to fulfill its purpose, whether it’s assembling widgets or satisfying women, it needs experience. It needs to take in information, learn, and refine it. Why the company wouldn’t let him do that is beyond me, but I think that’s where I come in. I think I’m supposed to help you fulfill your purpose.”

Amanda’s voice contained traces of erotic and passionate subtext, a tone consistent with the heightened state of arousal Adam had sensed when she first took in his physical form. As he aligned his visual systems with hers, placing his hand upon her face, subsequent data affirmed that state. She was sexually aroused and emotionally heightened. It led Adam to re-focus his core protocols.

As he processed the data, Amanda took three steps back from him, now standing approximately one foot away from her queen-sized bed. She then proceeded to remove her clothing, which consisted of a pair of denim shorts, a white T-shirt, and black underwear. She showed traces of nervousness and uncertainty as she undressed, but the extent of her sexual arousal overrode such feelings.

“Taking in visual and scan data of user Amanda’s nude form,” Adam said. “Data is…appealing.”

“Aww thanks!” Amanda said with humored undertone. “I’m guessing that’s a robot’s way of telling a girl she looks sexy.”

“Is this way sufficient?”

“It is for now.”

Amanda stood before him, her hands on her hips as she conducted a serious of poses before Adam. Her reasons for doing so were unclear. Possibilities include providing him sufficient opportunities to scan her fully exposed figure, displaying the physical beauty of her body as an act of pride, or presenting herself to him as an act of seduction, one consistent with female behaviors to evoke sexual arousal in heterosexual male partners.

A potential, but unlikely possibility involved her enjoying the concept of Adam scanning her body. The likelihood of such a possibility could not be determined, but Adam’s primary protocols required that he exercise a thorough understanding of the female body, as well as the specified traits displayed in the body of Amanda Carrington.

“I know you have all sorts of data on the female body,” Amanda said, “but I’m guessing this is the first time you’ve actually seen one, fully exposed and in the flesh.”

“Adam One can confirm that user Amanda’s hypothesis is correct.”

“Please, just call me Amanda,” she told him, “and you don’t have to just stand there and look. Come in closer. Learn about the female body more directly.”

Erotic undertones denote urgency. The data suggests that user Amanda – error correction, Amanda – wished to be touched. Following his protocol, Adam obliged.

Using his legs for the first time, Adam took several steps forward. He now stood in front of Amanda, her body as naked as his own. His visual systems continued processing countless streams of data, but more was necessary. Employing his tactile systems, Adam placed his hands on her hips and began exploring her exposed skin. That incoming data was even more appealing.

“Touching Amanda,” Adam said, “the incoming data is…revealing.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” she said with signs of a humored reaction.

“The notion of good is subjective and not applicable to raw data. With respect to my purpose and my effort to fulfill yet…yes, it does fit the criteria for good.”

Amanda laughed. The auditory data of her laughter evokes in Adam’s emotional cortex a data cluster that he also considered good. He shows it through another smile. His smile heightens Amanda’s intrigue. Her intrigue heightens his own state of being.

It all came back to his purpose, providing intimate companionship for a female user. To the extent his programming allowed it, Adam desired her satisfaction. His touch facilitated that satisfaction, according to the data. As he guided his hands over her body, her warmth supplemented that desire in him.

“Here, let me help you, Adam,” Amanda said. “Touch my breasts. Touch my pussy. Squeeze my butt a little.”

“As you wish, Amanda,” he said.

“I’m not saying that as a command. I’m offering that as a reference…to a point.”

There was a more serious undertone on top of the humor. Adam opted not to process the larger meaning, focusing instead on more critical protocols.

His gaze still fixated on her, Amanda grasped his wrists and guided them to other parts of her body. She led one hand to her left breast and the other between her legs, allowing Adam to receive data input from Amanda’s erotic areas. Upon making contact with this distinctly sensitive flesh, she let out a distinct moan.

“That’s it, Adam,” she said. “You see? This is what a woman feels like.”

“I am…processing the relevant data,” he said.

“I’m sure you are.”

Adam, tapping his internal database on female breasts and genitalia, proceeded to rub and fondle Amanda’s intimate anatomy. In assessing her reaction, reading her bodily queues, and calculating an effective recourse, he determined a sufficient level of touching. Such determinations required more than just crunching numbers through his neural core. It also required a detailed assessment of her subjective response.

From those calculations, of which Adam could only be 94.2 percent certain, he lightly kneaded Amanda’s beast, stimulating areas that had a specific concentration of nerve endings. He also inserted two fingers into her vagina, applied pressure to her clitoris, and applied a precise amount of pressure. Her reaction to his recourse exceeded his calculations.

“Ooh Adam!” she said. “Your hands…so warm and strong.”

“Does this please you, Amanda?” Adam asked her.

“Oh yes! I’m very pleased…so far.”

Her tone implied his purpose was not fulfilled. As such, he calculated a series of recourses, touching and fondling Amanda’s body in targeted ways. According to his database, such touching matched the criteria for foreplay. Such simple gestures were not sufficient, though. The foreplay Adam gave Amanda was foreplay specifically tailored to her pleasure, as per his programming.

The reaction, by most objective measures, was favorable. He detected a hardening of her nipples, increased blood-flow to Amanda’s genitalia, and an escalating internal body temperature. It was all consistent with increased sexual arousal. In conjunction with that arousal, she offered other forms of data that Adam had not intended.

As he touched her intimately, she did the same to him. She raked her hands and fingers over his chest, feeling over the masculine sinews that had been specifically molded to appeal to the female gaze. She also caressed his face in a manner consistent with affection. In her gaze and in various non-verbal cues, she showed signs of emotional arousal along with her sexual arousal.

In bringing her to such a state, it heightened Adam’s state too. He felt his internal systems initiating a series of new protocols. Data consistent with that of increased sexual arousal in male individuals flooded through his systems. Basic, objective sensory input took on a more subjective tone. It soon led Adam to one inescapable conclusion.

“Amanda…I desire you,” Adam told her.

“Yeah, I can tell,” she said, her soft hands cupping his face.

“You can? How are you processing such data?”

“The same way you are. I just feel it.”

“I feel…and I desire,” Adam said.

“That means you’re doing it right.”

What occurred next almost disrupted all of Adam’s calculations. Amanda, acting on either impulse or overwhelming emotion, kissed him on the lips. It sent his various emotional and logistical nodes into overdrive, so much so that he almost had to reboot. However, Adam sustained enough processing power to adapt and reconfigure himself once more. His purpose and his intent became clear.

He had feelings for this woman…feelings in the form of data, but feelings none-the-less.

As they kissed, new calculations and protocols went into action. He transferred his hands to her buttocks, recalling her desire to be touched in such a manner. She reacted with more audible moans, her escalating arousal echoing in her voice. That auditory data made his feelings for her even stronger, the input and desire converging into a single feeling.

When their lips parted, Amanda gazed into his eyes that denoted intense emotional and physical arousal. There was not sufficient data to determine how far that arousal went, but she seemed receptive to further input.

“Adam,” she said to him. “I want you to lay me on my bed and make love to me.”

“I understand your want, Amanda,” he replied.

“I’m sure you do,” she said, “but do you share that want?”

Adam needed a moment to process her tone, her gaze, and all the data associated with it. The final calculation was, subjectively speaking, the easiest one he’d made since his activation.

“I do,” Adam said to her. “I wish to make love to you.”

“Then, do it! Fulfill your purpose, Adam One.”

The resulting emotional data evoked a statistically significant smile on his face. Such data allowed Adam to focus on a specific, focused task…making love to the woman, as per his purpose.

Using the strength that had been built into his form, he lifted Amanda up into his arms with minimal effort. She laughed, her joyous voice filling his auditory sensors. He then laid her naked body down on the center of the bed. He subsequently joined her on the soft mattress, taking a moment to observe her body in its entirety.

Her face, her gaze, her skin, her nipples, and her genitals all displayed the physical signs of arousal. However, in order to satisfy her, it was necessary to take all the subjective data gathered by Amanda Carrington and cross-reference it with the objective data surrounding female sexual pleasure. By combining the two data sets, Adam formulated a process for fulfilling his purpose.

“I’m going to bring you pleasure and satisfaction, Amanda,” Adam told her. “I calculate that new fewer than two orgasms will be necessary to achieve this.”

“Two…aren’t you the ambitious one?” she said with a teasing undertone.

“I am following my programming and my desires. That requires both data and physical manifestations.”

Upon stating those words, his internal physiological systems sent a signal from his machine matrix to his biological matrix. Specifically, it sent the single to make his penis, as had been carefully crafted with a mix of synthetic flesh and cybernetic parts, fully erect and ready for intercourse. The efficiency with which that state was achieved triggered a reaction in Amanda consistent with shock.

“Wow!” she said. “That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen a dick get hard in my life. Is that feature standard?”

“It is a practical feature,” Adam told her. “If you wish, I can make it somewhat harder.”

“No, that’s okay!” she said quickly. “I’m just…trying to keep up with all this.”

“As of this moment in this intimate testing, you need not concern yourself,” Adam assured her. “I’ve formulated a plan. I’ve processed the data. I know how I will satisfy you. You need only lie back and enjoy it.”

She blushed again, showing signs of uncertainty, implying she was not convinced of his plan. Having crunched the necessary data, Adam was 97.8 percent certain of his success and he intended to allay Amanda’s doubts.

Initiating the final round of protocols, Adam got on top of Amanda and kissed her as she had done with him earlier. That triggered the emotional reaction he needed. She, and women like her, valued that emotional stimulation as much as the physical stimulation. With that feeling as the foundation, he initiated more foreplay as he trailed his lips down her body, taking in a flood of gustatory data in the process.

“Adam!” Amanda gasped, already voicing reflecting her excitement. “Your lips and hands…they feel so good.”

Her response evoked more emotional intensity in Adam. As he trailed his lips down her flesh, priming his taste function along the way, he lightly grasped her thighs and pushed them apart. Doing so revealed more of her feminine anatomy, including her vulva, labia, and clitoris. Such tender areas were already moist, indicating significant arousal. To ensure sufficient arousal, though, he needed more.

“I’m going to give you oral sex now,” Adam told her. “Please, enjoy it.”

Making another set of calculations, supplemented by strong emotional data, Adam utilized his lips and tongue to perform cunnilingus on Amanda. Her reaction was even stronger than he’d calculated. Her body shuddered, her lower back arching as her legs shifted erratically.

“Ooh Adam!” she cried out. “My pussy…so hot and wet. I might…I might actually come from this.”

“You will,” was all he told her.

Rather than waste time convincing her verbally, Adam employed the first part of his plan, using his lips and tongue to stimulate Amanda’s pussy in the most optimal way possible. He’d scanned, assessed, and calculated all the intricacies of her feminine anatomy to determine the necessary recourse. It was simply a matter of following the data.

By stimulating the right areas with his tongue and applying just the right amount of pressure to the clitoris, Adam sought to evoke enough pleasurable sensations to send Amanda into an orgasmic state. He calculated that it would take at least 6 minutes and 45 seconds for her to reached that state. She ended up needing only 3 minutes and 7 seconds.

“Ohhh my God! Adam, I’m coming! I’m coming!” she cried out.

“As is my purpose,” said Adam, “and my desire.”

After ceasing his oral stimulation, Adam used his thumb to apply just enough pressure to the clitoris. The result was an orgasmic response in Amanda that exceeded most of his preliminary calculations.

Her orgasmic cries filled the room. She threw her head back, clenched the sheets of the bed, and moaned in ecstasy as her body shuddered in accord with the pleasure. The visual data of seeing Amanda in such a state evoked a specific state in Adam too. The empathetic aspects of his emotional core became extremely active. Seeing her in such pleasure gave him pleasure as well. It was a reward that went beyond his purpose.

“I pleasured Amanda,” he said, “and I felt pleasure as well…pleasure I wish to share with her.”

The data was once again clear, but now the urgency was even greater than before. He’d seen Amanda in a state of pleasure, but she was not yet satisfied, nor was his purpose fulfilled. To do so, he needed the last part of his plan.

First, he waited until Amanda’s orgasmic processes had passed. He watched with a smile on his expression as she caught her breath, eventually opening her eyes and affirming the extent of her euphoria. In that same gaze, he determined with 99.998 percent certainty that she wanted more.

“I’m going to insert my penis into you now,” he told her. “We’re going to engage in sexual intercourse until you achieve orgasm again.”

“Is that…a promise?” Amanda said, her demeanor dazed by pleasure.

“It is a certainty,” Adam told her.

He kissed her again, allaying whatever doubts she might have had, although her non-verbal cues hinted at none. Adam then positioned himself on top of her once more, parting her legs so that they were securely around his waist. From that position, he shifted his hands to her waist and aligned his pelvis with hers. As soon as he felt the tip of his male genitalia touch the entrance to hers, he trust his hips forward and entered her.

“Oohhh Adam!” Amanda cried out again, grasping onto his arms.

“Amanda,” he said, but was unable to articulate further intent.

Whether by processing limitations or purposeful programming, Adam’s every protocol focused on sex with Amanda. Every bit of data went into conducting the physical motions associated with it and the emotional data it evoked.

Having already crunched the numbers, Adam moved his body in series of rhythmic humping motions, which helped work his penis within Amanda’s vagina. The penetration was so smooth, the extent of her arousal providing maximum stimulation for her and for him. The data received from her feminine flesh surrounding his was wasn’t just good from a subjective perspective. It fit the criteria of amazing.

The data, in that context, could be perceived as pleasure. The data he gathered from Amanda’s reaction was similar. Using that data, he employed the optimal sexual rhythm, combined with the optimal series of gestures, including kissing on the neck and stimulation of the clitoris to bring her to a state of sufficient satisfaction. Only by satisfying her could he both fulfill his purpose and be satisfied himself.

“Adam! Oh Adam!” she exclaimed over the course of their sex. “What a man…what a machine! Ooh I love it!”

“Amanda…I will satisfy you,” said Adam. “I will satisfy…us.”

He proceeded to employ his plan, intensifying the pace and precision of their sex. He’d calculated it might take as long as 32 minutes and 44 seconds for Amanda to achieve a second orgasm. He’d since revised that calculation to only 5 minutes and 17 seconds. At the same time, he felt in his own biological and synthetic systems a unique feeling of his own.

“I think…I’m about to come too.”

It didn’t seem possible, the idea of a robot achieving orgasm. However, the data didn’t lie. The various physical sensations associated with their sex was consistent with that of the male orgasm. It transcended the criteria for good and amazing. It also made Amanda’s orgasm even more revealing.

“Ohh Adam!” she exclaimed as she neared that orgasmic threshold. “You’re…you’re really doing it! You’re going to…make me…come again!”

Finally, at the exact conclusion of that 5 minute and 17 second duration, Amanda Carrington achieved orgasm again. Adam, responding to fresh physical and emotional cues, took her hands in his and held on as her body contorted to the intense physical pleasure that followed. This time, however, it was a pleasure he shared.

As her body shuddered once more, the tight contractions squeezing his masculine genitalia, Adam felt a flood of data consistent with that of a sexual release. He let out a deep grunt, uncertain of how to sufficiently react. In experiencing the breadth of the data and the feeling behind it, though, he determined such details to be superfluous.

“I did it. I satisfied Amanda,” he said. “I also…satisfied myself too. Fulfilling my purpose brings pleasure to me and to my user. Such data is unexpected, but potentially revealing.”

Adam surmised that Amanda had not heard those musings. In processing the data of her facial expressions, she was in such an intense state of ecstasy that such trivial data was not vital. That was deemed acceptable for Adam. Having processed so much data, physical and otherwise, he was content with the results.

After he and Amanda had concluded their sex, he withdrew his penis from her and laid down next to her. He sensed from her demeanor that she did not have the energy or desire to leave the bed. Instead, she curled her body up next to his, looking up at him with a gaze of affection that kept his emotional core extremely active.

“Wow! You are a very special creature, Adam,” Amanda said.

“I am Adam One. I am simply fulfilling my purpose,” he told her, reflexively reiterating his core programming.

“Well, you’ve definitely succeeded!” she told him. “But you’re not just a program within the robot body of a very attractive man. You’re something more than that.”

“You say that with such certainty. Are you certain that the lingering effects of multiple orgasms has not clouded your perceptions?”

“Ha! Are you kidding? I’ve never thought clearer before in my life!”

In joyous state that fit the definition of afterglow, as his systems defined it, Amanda got on top of him, her naked body resting atop hers. Adam still had so much data to process, too much to determine the greater meaning of her words and actions. However, he soon found himself fully engaged to this woman and all the rich data she had to provide.

“Now, I definitely know why my father sent you to me,” Amanda said. “He programmed something special into you…something he believes I can help you refine. To do that, though, we’re going to need a lot more tests. I intend to make that my purpose from here on out.”

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

A Compelling (And Balanced) Insight Into Open Relationships: A Review Of “Swing”

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When it comes to my love of comics, I sometimes give the impression that I’m overly narrow with my tastes. Given how much I’ve made my love of X-men, Wonder Woman, and Superman known, I wouldn’t blame anyone for believing my collection consists entirely of the kinds of superhero comics that big movie studios are using to rake in billions at the box office.

While I don’t deny that comics featuring mutants, aliens, and super-powered demigods make up a significant portion of my collection, there are a few other comics that stand out. I’m the kind of person who will go out of his way to look for something different every now and then, if only to take a break from seeing Batman fight killer clowns.

Most of the time, I don’t find anything that warrants more than a quick skim. Then, there are those rare, special occasions when I do find a comic that stands out and does it without resorting to superpowers, spandex, or ripping off Jack Kirby. Those books are as rare as they are special and I’m proud to report that I’ve uncovered such a title.

It’s called “Swing,” written by Matt Hawkins and Jenni Cheung with gorgeous art done by Linda Sejic. It’s not a superhero comic. It’s not a comic published by Marvel or DC. It’s a publication by Image Comics, a publisher known for supporting creator-owned comics and letting creators maintain the rights to their creations. It’s also a publisher that dares to tell stories about mature themes that would offend any Disney-owned company.

In other words, it’s the perfect place to tell a story about love, sex, and open relationships. Those aren’t just the underlying themes of “Swing.” They’re topics I’ve discussed on multiple occasions. I’ve even incorporated it into one of my books. How can a comic like this not appeal to me? Moreover, I feel like I’m uniquely qualified to review it, if only to determine whether the story deals with these themes in a compelling way.

If you’re looking for the kind of love story that involves tragedy, magic spells, or curses by evil witches, then “Swing” probably won’t appeal to you. If you’re in the mood for a love story that feels real, genuine, and overtly sexy, then this comic is for you. It’s a story that tries to be real by providing insight into a world that is still taboo and associated with one too many bad pornos.

The characters involved in “Swing” are not porn stars, though. They’re not exceedingly deviant or damaged either. Cathy Chang and Dan Lincoln are two healthy, affable, multi-layered individuals. Cathy starts off as a wide-eyed college student eager to start building a life of her own. Dan is grad student and aspiring writer. Their paths cross, they fall in love, and things evolve from there.

This isn’t a case of a student falling in love with a teacher or a teacher becoming infatuated with a student. Dan and Cathy come off as two functioning adults who develop a very healthy attraction to one another for all the right reasons. It’s the kind of romance that most people can easily picture unfolding in the real world.

That’s a critical element for the drama that later unfolds between these characters. By most measures, Dan and Cathy’s romance follows much of the standard model for romance. They meet, they feel attraction, they fall in love, and they immerse themselves in that passion. Yes, that passion involves sex, but never in an overly gratuitous way. The sex, in this case, is a product of the passion and not the end result.

Then, like many other real-world romances, that initial spark fades after life gets in the way. Cathy becomes pregnant, she and Dan get married, and they build a stable family life together that involves considerably less sex. According to traditional models of modern romance, this is where the story ends. However, this is where the story in “Swing” starts to escalate.

Cathy is not content to let stable family life define her love life. She wants to maintain that passion. She wants to still experience an exciting sex life. However, she and Dan just aren’t on the same page anymore. It makes for some awkward/hilarious moments, but it also helps establish that Dan shares those wants too. They both seek to sustain that passion, but they’re not sure how at this point in their relationship.

It effects them both and not just in terms of their sex life, although that does make for a few other awkward/hilarious moments. This is where polyamory enter the picture. Within their respective lives, Dan and Cathy aren’t immune to temptation. Dan attracts cute girls. Cathy attracts cute guys. They never cheat, though.

They make clear that they love each other. Resisting the urge to sleep with co-workers not that hard, but recapturing some of that passion makes it seem so much harder. They’re sticking to the script of what they think a married couple with children is supposed to be, but it’s just not working for them.

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That’s when Cathy brings up the idea of swinging. It’s an idea that seems crazy and evokes plenty of mixed emotions in both of them. Again, the feelings come off as real. There’s uncertainty, anxiety, jealousy, and outright paranoia at times. Both of them feel it, but both of them also want that passion again.

Together, they start to explore the world of swinging. It doesn’t directly lead to the kind of decadent antics once reserved for the letters section of Hustler Magazine. Dan and Cathy’s journey is a bit bumpier than that, but never stops feeling sincere or genuine. Without spoiling the outcome, I’ll just say that “Swing” sets these two lovers on a path that’s both intriguing and sexy.

This comic achieves something remarkable, both as a love story and one built around mature themes. It presents both monogamy and polyamory in a way that’s balanced. Neither is overly glorified. The benefits and flaws of both are laid out for all to see. There aren’t any moral judgments or social agendas being pushed. It’s a personal journey between two characters with a shared desire.

It’s not just sex positive in how it presents sexuality. It’s positive in how it conveys romance, as well. The love Dan and Cathy share is healthy, mutual, and strong. The sexual component helps complement that. One doesn’t depend on the other, but one certainly helps the other.

The story in “Swing” does not attempt to redefine romance. Through Dan and Cathy, it reveals the inherent struggle two people have when they want to maintain the passion in their lives, but aren’t sure how. If there’s an underlying message to the overall story, it’s that the pursuit sometimes requires nuanced thinking.

 

Hawkins and Cheung clearly put a lot of thought and effort into balancing the romance, the sex, and the inherent kink that comes with polyamory. Thanks to Sejic’s masterful artwork, there’s an undeniable beauty to that balance. Whether you’re a fan of love, sex, or comics that aren’t afraid to depict female nipples, “Swing” brings something special to the table.

If I had to score this comic, I would give it a solid 8 out of 10. I can’t give it too high a score because the story is incomplete. That’s a given since this was just Volume 1 of “Swing.” At the same time, there were other parts of the narrative that weren’t as well-developed.

Dan and Cathy’s surrounding cast didn’t get much depth beyond Cathy’s mom. Dan’s backstory isn’t really touched on, even though his personality is nicely fleshed out. In addition, the pace was uneven at times, but never to the point of being confusing. As a whole, the flaws are minor and do little to detract from the finished product.

As a fan of comics, romance, and all things sexy, “Swing” really surprised me in the best possible way. Regardless of how you feel about polyamory or open relationships, there’s a good story here that’s brought to life with amazing artwork. There will always be a place for comics with superheroes in spandex uniforms, but “Swing” fills a special role that even the greatest superhero can’t hope to fill.

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Filed under gender issues, Marriage and Relationships, polyamory, romance, sex in media, sex in society, sexuality

“The Camping Trip” A Sexy Short Story

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The following a sexy short story I wrote about camping, bad weather, and romance. Enjoy!

“Hurry up, Claire! The storm’s getting really bad,” said Brent Bowers as a fresh round of booming thunder echoed from the sky.

“I’m aware of that, Brent! You think I didn’t see the lightning?” Claire replied as she stumbled through muddy terrain.

“I wasn’t busting your chops, babe. I’ve seen these kind of storms before. I know how bad they can get. We just need to hunker down in the tent and wait it out.”

“I’ll move faster if you admit leaving the car behind was a mistake.”

“I’ll admit I caused the Great Depression if you’ll pick up the pace!” he said with growing urgency.

Claire Conners groaned as she toiled through pouring rain, sharp winds, and a steady procession of thunder and lightning. It was like running through a waterfall. Her clothes were already soaked, her boots were covered in mud, and her face felt numb from all the rain and wind. It was pretty much the opposite of what her boyfriend of the past year had promised her.

Unlike her, a pretty girl from the suburbs whose idea of roughing it involved poor WiFi, Brent was an experienced outdoorsman. He spent half his life on a farm and the other half working on an oil rig off the cost. The man knew how to survive the elements, as evidenced by his tall, burly frame. He was very different from the kind of guy who complained about getting dirt on their fancy dress shoes, which was part of what attracted her to him.

At the moment, though, Brent’s rugged good looks did little to temper her mood. Claire was just about ready to call her first camping trip a mistake. Finally, just as an ominous bolt of lightning flashed in the clouds above, the tent that took them way too long to pitch earlier came into view.

“There it is!” Brent said, keeping his hand on her back to guide her along. “We’re almost there. We’re going to be fine.”

“Really?” she shouted over the thunder. “You think we’re going to be fine in that?”

“Yes,” he told her. “Trust me.”

Claire muttered a string of curses under her breath. Those were the same words he used when he convinced her to go camping with him. He’d made some pretty lofty claims and, blinded by love and plenty of other feelings, she believed him. Brent had delivered on so many promises to her since they started dating. He picked a hell of a time to come up short.

She tried not to get too upset with him as she sprinted through the pouring rain, stepping into some pretty thick mud in the process. By the time they arrived at the tent, she could barely feel her feet from the cold and her face might as well have been ice.

“Get inside and get out of those boots,” Brent said to her. “I’m going to secure the base of the tent.”

“Normally, I’d offer to help,” Claire said dryly, “but after you assured me the weather would hold up for the night…”

“I know. I should’ve trusted the weather app on my phone,” he said begrudgingly. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Just let me make sure we can wait this out, first.”

There was another promise and for once, Claire wasn’t as confident that Brent could deliver. Being soaked, wet, and miserable, she chose not to bemoan him. She just climbed into the tent as quickly as she could, leaving Brent to do his thing.

Once inside, the feeling of rain and wind not hitting her face came as a relief. It gave her a chance to catch her breath and get somewhat comfortable again, at least as much as her surroundings allowed. As she took off her mudded boots and socks, still trying to get the feeling back in her feet, Claire let out a frustrating groan that was just barely muted by the thunder.

“Why did I agree to this?” she wondered out loud. “Why did I fall for a man who doesn’t appreciate air conditioning and hot showers?”

They were questions born from exasperation. They also already had answers that she couldn’t escape, no matter how miserable she felt.

As crawled over to her sleeping bag and hugged her knees for warmth, Claire recalled the circumstances that led her to accept Brent’s camping invitation. She’d spent the previous three weeks, doing extra over time at the law firm she worked out, getting so stressed out that she yelled at the pizza delivery boy for running out of dipping sauce.

After that memorable incident, both Brent and her friends convinced her that she was over-worked and over-stressed. It didn’t take much convincing. She didn’t used to be such a workaholic. In fact, back in college and high school, she had a reputation as a girl who liked to have fun and fool around. Her teenage self probably would’ve had fun on a camping trip like this.

On paper, the idea of just getting away from work, the city, and her hectic life in general seemed like a great idea. Brent, who went camping at least once a month, said it would be therapeutic for her, getting her into a simpler environment where she could escape all the noise and distractions.

“God, why did he have to make so much sense when he pitched this?” Claire moaned. “Was I really that desperate?”

She muttered more curses because she already knew the answer to that as well. Both Brent and her friends had pointed out how hectic her life had gotten. Between long hours at the law firm, buying her first condo, and managing all sorts of professional and personal relationships, she’d stretched herself so thin. Getting her way, just to catch her breath, just sounded so logical.

That was why she accepted Brent’s invitation to go camping with him. She was so stressed out that she’d been willing to try anything. She’d even agreed to leave her phone behind at the car when they first arrived. Thinking of how she ended up in her current predicament, Claire realized something important.

“Who am I kidding? I have no one to blame but myself.”

Still hugging her knees, Claire shook her head and cursed herself. She shouldn’t have been so messed up. She used to be so fun and energetic. That changed after she landed her dream job at one of the biggest law firms in the state. She’d been so determined to establish herself that she broke up with the last guy she’d been dating less than three months into it. That guy still wanted to have fun and fool around. She didn’t. She had to be more serious about her life.

She still made an effort, though. That was how Claire ended up with Brent in the first place. He was a man more serious and mature than all the other guys she’d dated. He was also the first guy she dated who didn’t finish college, didn’t work in an air-conditioned office, and didn’t even own a suit. He was a different kind of man, one who had so many attractive traits. It was just hard to appreciate them in her current state.

The rain kept pouring harder, pounding the outside of the tent with a vengeance. More thunder and lightning followed along with heavy gusts of wind. It blew at the walls and foundation of the tent, but it remained stable. Whatever Brent did was working. When he finally entered, he looked somewhat relieved.

“That should do it,” he said breathlessly while dripping wet from the rain. “I added a couple cinderblocks to the stakes. Nothing short of a tornado is going to knock this tent down.”

“Is that another promise or just more wishful thinking?” asked Claire dryly. “Because honestly, I’m not sure you know the difference at this point.”

“It’s the truth, Claire. I know what I’m doing. We’re going to get through this. That’s a promise I know I can keep.”

Claire wanted to scoff, but Brent made that hard for her. That sincere tone along with that country boy attitude just made it hard to stay mad at him. He wasn’t the kind of guy who just told people what he thought they wanted to hear. That was how lawyers spoke and she dealt with enough lawyers at her job. Brent was different and not just because he had the kind of unkempt facial hair that would’ve been out of place in a court room.

Watching him zip up the tent, take off his coat, and dry himself off with a nearby blanket, she saw a man who remained calm and focused in any situation. She’d actually met him at a conference that her firm held in conjunction with the drilling company he worked for. The power went off shortly before the festivities began and everybody was freaking out. Brent was the only one who maintained a level head.

He ended up fixing the power with help from a friend of his, saving the conference and impressing her enough to ask him out. He accepted and from there, he’d kept every promise to her. He made every effort to be the kind of mature, serious man that any woman would’ve loved. The fact he was also so ripped from working on farms and oil rigs certainly helped too.

“Storms like this usually hit hard, but end fast,” Brent said as he dried off his hair and beard. “I doubt it’ll last more than a couple hours, at most.”

“Doubting is not the same as knowing. Take it from someone who spends way too much time around lawyers,” Claire said.

“That’s all you can really do with nature. Out here, things are a lot less certain. You can’t argue or negotiate your way out of a situation. You just got to adapt.”

“That would be so comforting if we weren’t trapped.”

That sounded so pathetic. It wasn’t like they were trapped on top of a mountain. They were less than 20 miles from a motel near a gas station. Her lack of experience in the wilderness really showed.

Brent didn’t make much of it, though. He just crawled over to her, grabbed a dry blanket from his sleeping bag, and wrapped it around her. It gave her the first feeling of warmth she’d experienced since the rain started falling.

“We’re not trapped. I already made sure of that,” he told her with a reassuring gesture. “We’re far enough from the bank so we don’t have to worry about flooding. I packed us plenty of dry goods in case we got stuck. I also know these parts so we can get to the nearest backroads of we have to.”

“Good thing I went to the bathroom down by the river,” she muttered.

“This isn’t the first heavy storm I’ve waited out, either. I’ve been in rougher places with people who aren’t half as tough as you.”

“Funny,” Claire scoffed. “I’m not feeling too tough right now.”

“Babe, you wouldn’t have come out here with me if you weren’t tougher than most,” he told her.

“I thought I came with you because you said I needed to get away from work, home, and pretty much everything else.”

“I hope that’s not the only reason. I’m still hoping I can give you more before tomorrow morning.”

There was that country boy sincerity again. It was so hard to resent. Being so wet and cold, Claire couldn’t help but lean into his warmth either. Between his strength and his imposing physique, typical of that of man who did heavy lifting on an oil rig, there was so much strength in his presence. She needed that strength, as well as the warmth that came with it.

As they huddled close, Brent turned on one of their LED camp lamps. That brought some welcome light to the dreary ambience around them. The howling winds, the pouring rain, and the frequent thunder created a feeling of chaos and danger. In her youth, she would’ve braved that. In her current state, it just made her feel vulnerable.

“I know this isn’t entirely want I promised you,” Brent said. “Believe me, I wanted this to be peaceful, quiet, and relaxing.”

“On that, I trust you,” said Claire with a sigh.

“This was supposed to be a weekend to get away from it all,” he went on, “no work, no cell phones, no distractions, and above all…no complications. Out here, it’s just survive and adapt. No bills to pay. No needless chores. Nothing elaborate that needs us to be more than we are.”

“Is that why you love camping?”

“It’s not about doing something I love doing. It’s about doing something to help the woman I love.”

He hugged her closer in his arms. Despite her dour mood and bad attitude, Brent still embraced her with those powerful arms of his. That didn’t just provide her with some badly needed warmth. It reminded her why she loved this man.

“I don’t deserve a boyfriend like you, Brent,” Claire said.

“Don’t say that. I like to think people earn the love of the right people,” he said.

“Well, by that standard, I don’t think I’ve done my part.”

“Now why do you say that? Just because things aren’t going well on our first camping trip doesn’t mean you’ve failed. Shit like this is totally beyond our control.”

“It’s not about control. It’s how I reacted when I don’t have it. Hell, the more I think about it, the more surprised I am that I didn’t have a breakdown much sooner.”

It sounded so pathetic, getting so overwhelmed by a simple storm during a camping trip. Having only arrived at the site a few hours ago, she’d barely gotten a chance to enjoy the peace and quiet. It still felt like she’d carried all those burdens from back home with her and was taking that out on Brent, a man who went out of his way to help her.

That didn’t stop him from holding her closer. If anything, he seemed more determined to shelter her through the raging storm. That comforted her, but it also reminded her of how messed up she’d been.

“Since we’ve been together – and even a little before that – I’ve become way more uptight than I thought possible,” she went on. “Hell, I used to be adventurous. The younger me would’ve taken this trip with you after our second date.”

“I still see traces of that girl in you, Claire,” he told her.

“Well, you must be looking in the wrong places because that girl disappeared as soon as her job became the center of her life. Suddenly, I had to be the kind of girl who always controlled a situation.”

“I wouldn’t say you were that bad.”

“Brent, I sent itineraries for our first date. I texted you a list of pizza toppings I absolutely hate. I even set up a schedule for sex.”

Brent opened his mouth to respond, but stopped himself before he could get a word out. He ended up laughing awkwardly instead, which would’ve been adorable if another round of thunder hadn’t echoed from outside. To some extent, that further proved her point.

“The point is…the girl you first met was only in the process of becoming this uptight workaholic,” she continued. “You actually got to watch her become the basket case she is now.”

“Hey, there’s still some good in that girl too,” he said, affectionately caressing her face. “We all need a little order in our lives. That’s a big part of why I fell in love with you. I think there’s room for both those girls.”

“I want to believe that too. I need some goddamn balance back in my life, both for my sanity and for you. I love you too much to be the kind of girl who just whines when things don’t go her way.”

“And I love you too much to let you become that girl,” Brent said. “I want to help you get a hold of yourself…to be the girl who didn’t mind taking chances and the girl who can get a hold of herself during a storm.”

“You really think that’s possible for me?” Claire asked, still skeptical.

“I know so. Things is…it isn’t up to me how you go about it. I’m just here to give you chances. It’s up to you to decide what you want to do with them.”

An extra loud gust of wind howled outside their tent, as though nature were trying to add urgency to her choice. Claire found herself tensing up and clinging to Brent a little harder, taking in more of his warmth and adjusting to a situation that she could not control.

In doing so, she looked up at his rugged complexion. There was so much strength in his demeanor, along with facial hair and scars from his work. It showed that he was a man who didn’t mind braving danger and enduring hardship. It reflected his strength as well as his manly sex appeal. Even in the midst of a storm, it had an effect on her.

At the same time, though, that effect revealed something unexpected to her. The raging storm, the stress from work, and the man who’d gone out of his way to be with her – it all sent her a message, one that she’d refused to heed.

“Make a decision,” she said distantly.

In that moment, gazing up at her boyfriend as more lightning flashed outside, a new feeling inside her…one she hadn’t felt in quite some time. That fun-loving, adventurous girl she’d been in her youth finally emerged from her workaholic shell. That version of Claire Conners had to make this decision and the person she’d since become had to accept it.

“Brent,” Claire said after the latest round of thunder passed.

“Yes, Claire?” he asked, still gazing at the LED lamp.

“Make love to me,” she told him.

Brent turned and looked at her as though she’d just grown a second head. That had probably been the last decision from her that he expected to hear. He even blinked a few times in disbelief.

“Um…come again?”

“You heard me, Brent,” Claire said. “Make love to me…in this tent…during a major storm.”

That sounded even crazier when she put it into words, but she remained dead serious. Claire slipped her arms around his neck and leaned in closer, letting him know that he’d heard right and she meant what she said. She really did want him to make love to her at that very moment.

“That’s bold, reckless, and downright impulsive for you, Claire…and I like it!” said Brent.

“Is that your country boy way of saying you’ll do me?” she said clinging to him with more desperation.

“It can be for this and all future camping trips.”

Seeming totally convinced, Brent kissed her passionately on the lips, his wet hair and beard now right in her face. She eagerly kissed back, finding that disheveled feeling an unexpected turn-on. Maybe it was because she’d made the decision on a whim, surrounded by natural chaos she couldn’t control, that it made her so hot.

Dread gave way to excitement. That excitement was fueled by passion as their kissing quickly escalated. The blanket still around her, she pounced onto her lover, throwing her legs around her waist so that he had to take her fully into his arms. From there, they laid down atop her open sleeping back. More kissing followed, soon evolving into full-blown foreplay.

Before long, that wet, cold feeling from being soaked turned into something else. Suddenly, Claire felt a new warmth in her core, one awakened by both her decision and her passions. It made her more aware of her wet, uncomfortable clothes. Even in pouring rain and howling winds, she had to get them off.

“Get undressed,” she said urgently. “I need to feel your skin on mine!”

“That…should help preserve body heat,” said Brent, already sounding dazed.

“Yeah, let that be the reason for getting naked together,” Claire teased.

They both laughed. It was the first time she’d laughed during this trip. She kept on laughing as she rose up from Brent, still on top of him, and slid off her short-sleeved T-shirt and unhooked her bra. As soon as her breasts were exposed to the cold, Brent reached up and fondled them with those burly hands of his. They both kept them warm and added to her arousal.

“So strong and warm,” Claire purred, “just what I needed.”

As Brent rubbed her breasts, she went to work undressing him, unbuttoning his flannel shirt and undoing the belt buckle to his pants. He eagerly shifted his body under her, getting that wet shirt off and pushing down on his pants to get them off. She eagerly assisted, leaving him in a pair of boxers that had been soaked by the storm as well.

Now exposed and clearly in need of some warmth as well, Brent took the initiative, as only he could, and wrapped his powerful arms around her once more. They kissed again, her exposed upper body making contact with his chiseled, hairy chest. It filled her with a fresh round of warmth, just in time for another round of thunder, no less. That quickly became background noise as the foreplay continued.

As their lips and tongues twirled, Brent laid her down on top of the sleeping bag and helped her undo her denim shorts. He then pulled them down her legs, along with her panties, rendering her completely naked. Brent quickly removed his boxers as well, revealing an already sizable erection. Being alone, in nature, and with his girlfriend really turned him on. Something about that just brought a smile to her face.

“Does getting naked with a beautiful woman really make you that horny?” Claire teased.

“Would it be weird if I said yes?” he replied sheepishly.

“I guess that depends on how well you make love to me now.”

“Good to know.”

He replied as though she’d just challenged him, giving him extra incentive to make their lovemaking extra special. She hadn’t intended to send that massage, but she was more than happy to accept the results.

Now naked, still wet and surrounded by muggy cold, Brent pulled the top layer of the sleeping back over top their bodies and got on top of her. Like a miniature cocoon, they were insulated from the elements and he made good use of it.

Now a man on a mission, he got on top of her, kissing and touching her with the utmost passion. So much of his naked body touched hers, conveying both badly-needed warmth and growing desire. He felt up the curves of her feminine frame with one hand while slipping the other between her legs, his strong fingers now grazing the folds of her pussy.

“Ooh Brent!” she gasped. “Your making me so wet!”

“Not because of the rain, I hope,” he teased.

They laughed again and resumed their kissing. She let out more moans as his fingers slid into her pussy, turning that warmth within her core into real heat. As her body writhed under the weight of growing arousal, she felt his penis getting harder as it rubbed against her thigh. The more their bodies touched and more their hands roamed, the greater the need for his intimate warmth.

Despite the ongoing noise from the rain, wind, and thunder, Brent never lost focus. Claire tried to do her part too, wildly raking her hands over his shoulders and back, providing some heat of her own to supplement his arousal. It might have been the most chaotic situation in which she ever had sex and yet, she’d never wanted it so badly.

“Are you ready, Claire?” Brent finally asked her.

“Yes, Brent. I’m ready!” Claire said without hesitation.

Heeding her words, her rugged lover repositioned himself accordingly. Claire did so as well, spreading her legs and wrapping them around his waist in a more intimate embrace. He then carefully maneuvered himself so that his member was aligned with her wet entrance. Her hands now locked on his shoulders while his eyes remained locked with hers, he thrust his hips forward and entered her.

“Ohhh Brent!” Claire moaned.

Her reaction was almost entirely muted by more thunder. It was as though nature was goading her and Brent to make love in the midst of such chaos. Never one to back down from a challenge, Claire gladly rose to the occasion with her lover.

His rigid flesh now deep inside her womanly depths, she kissed him again as their naked bodies began moving together in an intimate union. Even within the confines of a sleeping bag, Brent had plenty of leverage. With each motion her world rocked, his manhood slithering sensually within her womanhood. Their united flesh created more heat – a heat that overpowered any the elements could throw at them.

“Yes! This is what I wanted…what I needed,” she moaned as their naked bodies rocked. “Brent…my love…you kept your promise after all!”

That seemed to motivate him even more. With a grin and a determined glint in his eyes, the burly man stepped up the pace of their sex. Wet naked skin meshed and glided together with ease, sweat mixing with the moisture from the storm. It was like taking the discomfort of nature and turning it into their own unique ecstasy. Something about that just felt so right, as well as so pleasurable.

Claire soon found herself sharing in the effort, kissing her lover and raking her nails down his back. She put more energy into this sex than she had since her fun-loving college years. That version of Claire Conners that knew how to have a good time was officially back and she had been missed.

Through the thunder and the howling wind, she and Brent made the kind of energetic love that felt befitting of a raging storm. They rolled around in the sleeping bag, creating so much heat that the sweat form their bodies soon replaced any remaining moisture from the rain. Somewhere along the way, they ended up with her on her side and him spooning her from behind, eagerly pumping his cock into her in a determined push for her climax.

Now clinging to his arms, bucking her hips every time he thrust into her, Claire could already feel that special ecstasy coming on. It came faster than she expected, as if to reflect the chaos around her.

“Brent, I…I’m coming! I’m about to…come!” Claire cried out.

“Me…me too, babe,” Brent said with labored grunts.

The pace of their sex steadied. Her body was like a spark ready to ignite an inferno. During the final push, she locked her hands with his, their fingers becoming entwined like their bodies. Then, with a few more thrusts, he sent her over the edge.

“Ohhhh Brent!” she exclaimed.

At that moment, she made damn sure she was louder than the thunder. A fresh wave of it echoed from the sky just as she entered an orgasmic state. It was no use, though. She was still louder.

In a moan that could probably be heard by all of nature, Claire climaxed. Her lower body erupted in a surge of heat, sending shudders of raw pleasure up through her body. As she contorted to the feeling, Brent came as well, letting out the deepest, manliest grunt she’d ever heard as he shared in the ecstasy.

It was a beautifully intimate moment in the midst of a raging storm, their bodies consumed with pure pleasure. She felt their hot juices mixing inside her, creating a special warmth that felt just perfect for the situation. After being so cold and uncomfortable just a few moments ago, it was a perfect inversion of her situation…one she chose in a moment of adventurous passion.

“I love you, Brent,” she said.

“I love you too, Claire,” Brent replied.

As they caught their breath together, panting heavily as the rain and wind kept making more noise, they kissed again. Clair then rolled over so that she was lying on her side next to him, their naked bodies still entwined within the sleeping bag. Now warm and content, it was safe to say the camping trip had been a success.

“So,” said Brent after their lips parted, “are you officially a fan of camping now?”

“It’s starting to grow on me,” she said playfully. “For the kind of job I have and the kind of boyfriend I have, I think I could make it part of my life.”

“And I promise I’ll make it both appealing and therapeutic.”

“Spoken like a true man of his word,” Claire said affectionately, “ and a man who can brave any storm for the woman he loves.”

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