Tag Archives: sex

Daily Sexy Musings Good Meals And Great Loving

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The following is a sexy musing that combine two essential life functions, namely sex and eating. I don’t mean that in a kinky sort of way, though. Again, I prefer to save those kinds of kinks for my sexy short stories. In this case, I want to ponder the unspoken, but unavoidable link between a good meal and great lovemaking.

That link is certainly there. Nobody couple has ever had consistently great sex on an empty stomach. It’s simple physics. Sex and love require energy. We get our energy from food. To have great sex and make beautiful love, we need food. Moreover, we need good food. It shouldn’t take much convincing, but maybe this musing will help. Enjoy!

We sit across from each other, breathless and restless. We haven’t even touched, but we feel the energy surging through us. In our stomachs, a world of tastes and treats converge within us, providing a potent blend of sustenance and contentment. The appetizers, the main course, and the desert all linger in our mouths. We can still taste it, but we’re hungry for more.

We look at each other. One critical need has been filled. Our hunger has been satiated, the precious nutrients delivered into our bodies. It didn’t have to be elaborate, but it was. We put out candles, played music, and dressed formally. We choose meals not based on how much they fill our stomachs, but on how much they satisfy.

That needlessly elaborate process still succeeded in one critical way. It filled a need. By filling that need, we have the energy and strength to fill enough. That much energy cannot just remain in our stomachs. Survival for another day cannot be the only goal. After all, what good is surviving if we don’t live?

To live, we must act.

To act, we must connect.

To connect, we must make the effort.

That feeling of fullness pleases our stomachs, but leaves other parts of the body wanting. Our hearts ache, like dry valley tapping into a fresh reservoir. Our brain tells us we’re safe from hunger, but deficient in desire. Our genitals tell us the energy is there. We need only tap it.

We are content, but not satisfied.

We are fulfilled, but not elated.

As we digest our meal, we come to an inescapable realization. We are not content with mere contentment. We seek something greater. Comfort, alone, is not enough. We seek ecstasy.

It’s on both our minds. We can taste it as much as we can still taste our last bite. The meal is done. It is a good meal, giving us the energy for greater endeavors. As we look at one another, we feel that energy drawing us towards one unique effort. A good meal is no longer the precursor. It is the catalyst to something greater.

We reach across the table. Our hands touch and the signal is sent. Need gives way to want. From want, we grow bolder. We leave the table and rush to the nearest bed. Tonight, we dare go beyond survival. Alone, we can see the next sunrise. Together, we can make it meaningful.

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“Summer’s Last Gasp” A Sexy Short Story (At The End Of Summer)

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote about the last days of summer. For some, it’s a bittersweet time of year. For others, it’s a necessary evolution of seasons. This story tries to capture both in a loving, sexy sort of way. Enjoy!

Summer Reya wasn’t used to warm weather going away. She’d grown up a tropical climate where a “chilly day” was anything under 60 degrees or made wearing flip-flops uncomfortable. Then, three critical events changed her life.

First, she got a scholarship to a major university up north. That was a big deal for her and her family. Neither of her parents had gone to college and she was the first of three siblings to attend. The move was supposed to be temporary. Then, the second critical event happened.

She got an internship that turned into a career. While in school, she started working for an up-and-coming biotech company. That company grew quickly and before she graduated, they offered her a full-time position, complete with benefits and a fat salary. Summer still remembered gasping in disbelief when she saw her first paycheck.

That kept her up north a little longer. Eventually, she still wanted to move back home. Then, the final – and, by every measure, the most critical – event happened. She fell in love. That effectively changed her plans for good.

“I can already feel it,” Summer said distantly as she admired the setting sun in the distance. “The extra chill in the air…the lack of humidity at this time of day…even the smell of the wind.”

“Are you telling me you can actually smell winter?” said a humored, but loving voice. “For some people, that counts as a super-power.”

“There’s nothing powerful about it. It’s just one part of my life reminding me of another…the past affecting me in the present.”

“Does it make you feel homesick?”

“It used to,” she conceded, “but then I met you.”

With a smile that could’ve warmed any climate, she turned towards the figure who had done so much to keep her warm. Unlike her, Christopher Bennet was used to the cold weather. He’d spent most of his life up north, enduring harsh winters and never using sub-zero temperatures as excuses. Bearing a thick beard, a rugged complexion, and broad muscles that he’d forged working at rock quarries, he looked like a man who could handle harsh conditions.

That was just one of the many things that had attracted her to him. She’d met Chris in college. In fact, during the first major snowstorm she’d endured, he came by and shoved the driveway of the crowded townhouse she’d shared with three other women. Seeing him brave that storm in nothing but a sweat-shirt while she wore three layers to stay warm impressed her. That one impression led to so much more.

“You don’t have to worry, Summer. You know I’ll keep you warm this winter,” Chris told her as he tightened his embrace on her.

“You always do,” she said as she ran her hands through that thick beard of his, “even though I don’t make it easy for you.”

“I don’t mind the challenge. You help keep me on my toes. I need that in my line of work.”

“A guy who works in a quarry needs a woman who works in a climate-controlled office…there’s just something so fitting about that.”

“I know. You know how to endure the heat. I know how to handle the cold. But together…we find a way.”

He smiled back at her before kissing her softly. Summer gladly returned the gesture. At the same time, a sharp gust of wind blew over them. It was the coldest gust she’d felt since March. It was as though nature itself was warning her that she was going to need her husband’s ability to keep her warm for the next several months. It was one of those warnings that she didn’t mind heeding.

Sitting in his lap, straddling his waist atop a picnic blanket, Chris imparted plenty of warmth and not just in terms of body heat. They had taken a trip to the top of an isolated hill that overlooked the small pond at the north end of their neighborhood. It was one of those places that most people didn’t know was there, which made it even more special to them. From it, they could see the sunset, the trees, and the lights from the downtown area in the distance.

She and Chris had discovered it on their third date. Since then, they’d made it a point to visit their secret hilltop, as they called it, on the last weekend of summer. It signaled the end of days where they could just lounge around in swimsuits and shorts. In the weeks to come, she would have to break out the sweaters, sweatshirts, and jackets that she never had to wear back home. It was bittersweet, but Chris made it worthwhile.

In addition, their little end-of-summer picnic had another important tradition that she was eager to get to. Based on the way Chris felt her up as he kissed her, he shared in that eagerness. Wearing only flip-flops, jean shorts, and an under-sized T-shirt – her preferred attire for hot, muggy weather – it didn’t take long before a different kind of heat consumed them.

“Speaking of finding a way,” Summer said, their lips parting while they remained in a tight embrace, “I think we’ve got one more heat wave to enjoy before I pack away my bikinis.”

“I love the way you think, Summer,” Chris said with a grin.

“It’s going to get cold tomorrow…the first of many,” she said.

“I saw the weather forecast too. I know how it works in these parts. We’re in for a long winter.”

“Which is why we should make this the hottest night of the year,” she said seductively, already trailing her fingers through his messy hair. “If it’s going to be the last one, I want to make it count!”

“And we will,” he replied, matching her seductive undertone. “That’s why before that sun sets, I’m going to make love to you in a way that’ll keep us warm until next spring!”

“Is that a promise, my love?”

“I don’t make promises, Summer. I just tell the woman I love what I’m going to do. Then, I do it!”

There was such certainty and intent in his words. Chris was not the kind of man to make bold promises that he didn’t meet. He said what he meant and meant what he said. No matter the weather, he didn’t let it change his intent, even when it came to making love to her.

Like a man on a mission, he began doing as he said he would. He kissed her passionately, his tongue quickly becoming entwined with hers in an outburst of passion. As he tasted her lips, he laid her down on the oversized picnic blanket, shoving aside the cooler and lunch bags. Summer, her arms and legs still wrapped around his imposing form, soaked up the warmth of his love. With the sun setting fast and the summer warmth already fading, there was a growing sense of urgency.

With the energy of two horny teenagers on prom night, she and Chris made out atop the picnic blanket. They kissed and touched with such intensity, his hands roaming freely up her womanly curves while hers slipped under that dirty T-shirt of his to feel those masculine sinews. With that intensity came heat and before long, clothing became a burden.

“Off!” Summer gasped as her love kissed down her neck. “Please, Chris…get these clothes off!”

Without saying a word, her husband stripped her naked on the spot. He wasn’t playful about it, either. He swiftly pulled her shirt off over her head, undid her bra with ease, and pulled her shorts down her legs, panties and all. The feeling of the cool, evening air grazing over her naked skin sent shivers throughout her body, contrasting with the heat they’d created. Those shivers didn’t last long, though.

As soon as he tossed her shorts and underwear aside, Chris shed his clothes rapidly. He didn’t even care that he threw his shirt into a patch of mud near the blanket. Nothing was going to keep him from capturing the last bit of summer heat.

“Feeling chilly?” he teased.

“A little,” Summer quipped coyly.

“I can tell,” he said, giving her hardened nipples a slight pinch. “Don’t worry. Things are about to get hot…very, very hot.”

He laid down on top of her, naked skin pressing against naked skin. He kissed down her neck as well, evoking a light gasp as intimate touch triggered intimate sensations of all kinds. Again, Summer embraced him with her arms and legs. Without the burden of clothes, her breasts pressed up against his chest, her nailed raked along his bare back, and his growing manhood rubbed up against the heat building between her inner thighs.

From there, their outdoor make-out session evolved into full-blown foreplay. Chris rubbed her breasts, squeezed her butt, and slithered his tongue around her face and lips. Summer returned the favor, running her fingers through his hair and whispering words of lurid passion into his ear.

“I want you, Chris,” she told him in her most seductive voice. “I want you inside me…that big, hard cock inside my hot, wet pussy. I want you to fill me with your sex…and your love.”

Summer felt his manhood stiffen faster. Chris had always been fond of dirty talk. She just what to say and how to say it get his blood flowing in the right direction. As he neared full arousal, he stepped up their foreplay, working his hands over her exposed flesh and allowing the weight of his body to press against her.

It was like wearing a blanket of warm, manly flesh. Even with a chill in the air, it still felt like a muggy day at the beach, especially between her legs. It was a powerful feeling, her husband making out with her in a naked heap. Something about it – being outside in the elements, feeling the shifting winds of the season, and warming one another with their passions – triggered an arousal within her hotter than any approaching winter.

“Are you ready to really heat things up?” Chris whispered, his member now fully erect and pressing against her inner thighs.

“Yes!” Summer said without hesitation. “I’m ready, Chris. Please…make me feel hot.”

Already covered in a light sweat, she braced for more heat as her lover ignited the final proverbial spark.

Shifting his grip to her thighs, he rose up slightly and positioned himself between her legs. Then, with his masculine body glowing in the light of the sunset, he entered her. Almost immediately, Summer felt a surge of hot sensations.

“Hot enough, yet?” Chris said in a husky tone.

“Ooh, yes!” she moaned.

“Good,” he said, “but I’m not convinced.”

Spoken like a dedicated worker/lover, he began making love to her at a fervent pace. He dug his knees and feet into the ground, giving himself extra leverage as he worked his hips with power and passion. In and out, his manhood slithered inside her, hot flesh embracing hot flesh. The end result was equally hot sensations that mirrored their shared desire for one last heat wave before winter.

She moaned in delight as those desires were realized. She did not mute herself in the slightest, her cries of passion echoing into the twilight. She knew how much Chris loved to hear her moan during sex. They motivated him even more, inspiring the kind of determined grunts that radiated with strength and vigor.

“Chris…ohhh Chris!” Summer exclaimed. “I feel it…so hard… so hot!”

“That’s…what I want,” he gasped in between grunts. “I want…to make you…hot.”

“You are! You make me…so hot!”

That heated proclamation took on a literal and figurative sense. She could already feel the sweat from his body mixing with hers, the results of their heated lovemaking taking a very tangible form. She could also feel an orgasm coming strong.

When it hit, there was no warning. Summer rarely had to tell her lover when she was on the brink of orgasm. She made it exceedingly obvious in other ways.

“Oohhh fuck yes!” she cried out.

In an instant, that warm feeling she and Chris had created with their love became a burning ecstasy that shot through her body like a wave on a tropical beach. For Summer, having spent much of her life on those beaches, it was extra satisfying. Beyond the raw pleasure, though, there was more to the feeling. Between the picturesque setting and the prospect of limited heat over the winter, the moment was extra meaningful.

“Yeah…I’d say that’s hot enough,” Chris said.

Had she not been immersed in pure euphoria, Summer would’ve laughed. For a brief moment, the winds, the birds, and the bugs were all temporarily muted as she soaked in the feeling. Her eyes closed, her back arched, and she squeezed her bouncing breasts, creating the kind of spectacle that always gave Chris pause, even in the midst of passion.

Even in her blissful daze, he leaned in and kissed her. His naked, sweaty body now on top of her once more, the flesh kept that passionate heat going. The air around them felt as warm and muggy as a sunny day in July. In that moment, it felt like summer again.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Chris told her. “No matter how hot or cold it is…you never cease to astound me, Summer.”

“Speak for yourself, my darling,” she replied. “I swear you can make the coldest winter feel like a trip to the beach.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents,” he teased.

“And I’m a woman who loves to nurture that talent,” she quipped, “and in case you haven’t noticed…the sun hasn’t fully set.”

“Believe me, I noticed!”

Grinning playfully, they kissed again and the lovemaking resumed. If that evening was going to be their last taste of summer heat – literally, to a large extent – then they might as well enjoy every last second of it.

Since her husband had been so dedicated to warming her body and spirit, Summer decided to return the favor. His rigid member still inside her throbbing folds, she grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him over so that she was on top of him. From there, she began riding his cock, quickly re-establishing the same vigorous rhythm he’d so passionately demonstrated with her.

“From now…until the sun disappears,” she said, “we keep making love!”

“That a…challenge?” said Chris, already panting heavily.

“No, my love…a promise!”

She sealed that promise with another kiss. He sealed it too by wrapping her in his arms again, holding their naked bodies close as they danced the lover’s dance together in the diminishing twilight.

From there, a fresh round of heat surrounded them. More hot sensations followed, supplemented by a steady progression of moans and gasps that echoed throughout the surrounding woods. There was nothing fancy or theatric about their lovemaking. It was just the kind of raw, directed passion that could shelter any lovers from the approaching cold.

If the goal was to just keep the fire going and work up more sweat, then they definitely succeeded. Guided by love and a shared desire to sustain the heat, they pushed the limits of their stamina, sexual and otherwise.

After riding his cock for a good long while, they just rolled around atop the blanket, going at it from various positions. They didn’t get too elaborate. Summer didn’t have to test any of her old gymnastic skills. There was a common theme to it, though. Every position was one that maximized body contact, ensuring naked skin rubbed against naked skin. Friction made heat. Heat made more sweat. Together, it made for hotter sex.

It led to more orgasms along the way, complete with more proclamations of ecstasy that stirred the surrounding wildlife. Summer swore the trees trembled as she and Chris rocked the area with their lovemaking. It was as though their passions were fueled by the last gasp of the summer season, the energy flowing into their naked bodies and guiding them through one last round of heat.

“Chris…my warmth…my love,” Summer gasped through the intimate daze.

“Summer…my favorite time of the year!” Chris replied with a beaming smile.

She smiled back and kissed him again, pushing her physical limits to keep the passion going. Chris stayed with her every step of the way, showing off the stamina that had made for so many hot nights. It was a testament to his dedication, doing what he had to do to keep the heat flowing and deliver to her what he promised.

Keeping that promise soon took on a greater sense of urgency. Summer could see the sun was just about to set over the horizon. The final light of the season was about to disappear. That gave them a small window with which to make that moment count. She was on the brink of another orgasm. For the final push, though, she wanted her lover to share it.

“Chris, I…I’m close again,” Summer told him.

“Me too, Summer,” Chris said through labored grunts. “I…I’m so close!”

“Please…come with me. In one more taste of summer…let’s come together.”

As she said those desperate words, he caressed her face while she clung to his neck, holding on for one last rush of summer heat. Their eyes locked, the glimmer of the sun fading fast, they pushed their bodies and souls to that special threshold. It was like the end of a journey, but one they could only finish together.

When they finally crossed that line, she and Chris let out a shared cry of ecstasy. A wave of warm, unabated pleasure consumed their sweat-covered bodies in harmonious release of passion. She threw her head back while he buried his face in her neck, the sounds of their love mixing with the gusts.

For a brief moment, time stood still. It was like the entire season of summer had stopped just to tell her and Chris goodbye. From her position, Summer could see the sun disappear over the horizon one last time. With her lover in her arms, his embrace keeping her so warm, she smiled at the fading twilight. As much as she loved the warm weather, she had no doubt she and Chris could endure any winter.

With the sun now set, she and Chris collapsed atop the blanket. Their bodies parted, but they remained in each other’s embrace, lying side-by-side and absorbing the lingering warmth of their passion. Together, they had forged a special warmth through the rhythm of love and sex. It felt like a fitting celebration for the final days of summer.

“I love you, Chris,” she said to him.

“I love you too, Summer,” he told her.

“Thank you for keeping me warm. Thank you for making every day feel like summer!”

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Daily Sexy Musings: Sharing A Hot Shower

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The following is a sexy musing on the joys and inherent sex appeal of a hot shower. More specifically, it’s about how that joy and sexiness gets enhanced when we have someone to share it with.

It’s not just a scene out of a bad porno. A hot shower shared with a lover is one of the most understated acts of intimacy. It’s not just one of those situations that’s likely to result in some impromptu lovemaking. There are larger forces at work, both of the loving kind and of the sexy kind. Enjoy!

We enter cold and dirty. We leave warm and clean.

We enter stressed and miserable. We leave relaxed and content.

A hot shower is like being reborn, cleansed and cleaned from rigors of daily life. It requires no skill to enjoy. It needs little in terms of resources. A steady source of water and heat are the only requirements. Nearly every society in every part of the world has the means and desire to enjoy it.

Beyond cleaning our bodies, it requires that we be intimate with ourselves. It demands that we know our bodies, touching and feeling every little sinew. We know the parts that need extra care. We try to be extra careful, trusting our hands and the will that guides them to all the right places.

Alone, however, a hot shower can only do so much. Like a hot cup of coffee on a cold winter morning, it’s a simple act that gets the job done. It’s only when you share that warm, rejuvenating experience that it becomes something more. Instead of one cup, there’s a whole feast of deserts we eagerly consume.

Together, we shed our clothes and our inhibitions.

Together, we enter a hot, steamy world.

Together, we cleanse one another of grime and stress.

Under torrents of hot water, we’re drawn to one another. We seek to share in its healing power. Our naked bodies are so close, able to touch without barrier or restraint. There are no forces keeping us apart and plenty of forces drawing us together. It’s a world where love and desire complement rather than conflict.

It starts off simple. We soak ourselves in water. We embrace, finally clean of the sweat incurred by a long day. Hands touch, lips meet, and body parts rub together in an intimate mesh. From simple contact, a greater desire blossoms. From that desire, passion ignites. In a steamy world, we are unbound. The heat cannot stop us. Instead, it only fuels us.

We can be as messy as we want. We can be as thorough as we want. Under steady stream of water, we exist in a perfect cycle of renewal and revitalization. We feel bolder, feeling each other up with more fervor and stirring in one another the most heated of passions.

It’s a perfect domain for a perfect venting, a harmonious blend of love and desire. Through the water and steam, our flesh longs for a more thorough cleaning. Our own hands may make us feel content. Only our lover’s hands can make us feel fulfilled.

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Buffalo Wing Sauce Edition

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I consider myself a fairly passionate person, by nature. A big part of what we do and why we do it is driven by passion. I just consider the passion that fuels me to be extra potent. It shows in the way I talk about comic books, gender politics, and beautiful women in bikinis.

I’ve shared many of my passions on this website, but there’s on in particular I don’t think I’ve emphasized enough. That’s my passion for all things flavored with buffalo wing sauce. I get it. That sounds like an odd thing for anyone who lives outside of Buffalo to be passionate about, but it’s no joke to me.

I truly love all things flavored with buffalo wing sauce and I’m not just referring to chicken wings. I put it on my pizza, my eggs, my vegetables, my burgers, my steaks, and pretty much anything else I can put sauce on. If I found a woman who enjoyed having buffalo wing sauce licked off her boobs, I would probably fall in love with her on the spot.

This being football season, which is associated with a sizable increase in consumption of all things buffalo flavored, my passion for this wondrous condiment has never been greater. That’s why I proudly dedicate this week’s edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts to buffalo wing sauce. If it makes you both horny and hungry, I’ll have done my job.


“It’s only when you appreciate how closely smell is linked to memory that you understand why some men love sniffing women’s panties.”


“When you think about it, the line between foreplay and tickling has to be blurred for either to work.”


“Morning sex will either make you tired or wake you up, which makes it inherently more useful than coffee.”


“Wanting a lover who can be everything to you is like wanting everything they do to give you an orgasm.”


“The fact that making love makes both happiness and life means its the most basic form of multi-tasking.”


“The power of love can only ever be a mitigating factor when negotiating the prospects of anal sex.”


“Given the similar consistency between mayonnaise and semen, you can’t help but wonder if the person who created it had some weird kinks.”


I hope that helped everybody work up an appetite, among other things. Between the weather getting colder and the start of football season, my stomach is ready and eager to ingest all things coated in buffalo wing sauce. If my genitals wish to join the party, then that’s just a nice bonus.

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Daily Sexy Musings: Men In Uniform

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

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

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

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

A man who earns is a man willing to fight.

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

A man who can protect is a man with power.

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

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

Men with authority don’t subdue. They dominate.

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

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

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

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

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

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Daily Sexy Musings: Love Versus Desire

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The following is a daily sexy musing inspired by the discrepancy between love and desire. Make no mistake. There is a difference. You can love someone, but not desire them. You can also desire someone without loving them, too.

It’s a subtle, but powerful difference. Those with first-hand experience know that all too well, albeit mostly through hindsight. Those without that experience have no idea, so I hope they read these intimate words carefully.

What does it mean to be loved? It’s the subject of countless songs and just as many epic tales. It’s a question with many answers, few of which remain the same from one soul to the other.

What does it mean to be desired? It has fewer songs and stories, but only because they’re not necessary. To be desired is to feel something basic, raw, and unfiltered. That’s exactly what makes it so different, yet so similar to love.

To love someone is to seek connection on multiple levels. To desire someone is to seek a connection with only a few. Love can connect people for eternity. Desire can connect people for minutes at a time. Love may be fickle, but desire is downright erratic. We can channel love, but we can never contain desire.

It’s that feeling you get when you see a pair of breasts, but not the face of the person above them.

It’s that feeling you get when you see the bulging chest muscles and not the eyes just a few inches above.

It’s the feeling you get when your brain and your genitals are no longer in sync. It isn’t just an obstacle. It’s a barrier, one that can be circumvented, but never avoided.

Desire can lead to love, but love rarely incurs desire. It can fuel desire, but only in the way that a spark ignites a gas-soaked rag. Absent the necessary ingredients, a spark can only do so much. It burns fast and disappears faster. In one domain, it barely flickers. In another, it triggers a raging wildfire. It can be so much and so little. Love is just one of many outcomes, but it is rarely the most likely.

We feel desire on a whim, but we feel love for a lifetime.

Desire puts us in a moment, but love will carry us through a lifetime.

They can be incredibly thrilling, but easily confused. One is a flash. The other is a steady gleam. Both can light up our world, but only one can illuminate a path. Desire helps us be in the moment. Love helps us see the path ahead of us.

Desire can only ever be fleeting, but love can be eternal. Desire runs on instinct. Love runs on passion. Wanting to be loved is like a journey. Wanting to be desired is like yelling at the clouds on a rainy day. We only have so much control over either, let alone both. We don’t always know which one we crave, but we know how much we want it.

The line is always blurred. We can feel one, the other, or both. Together or apart, they bring us exhilaration and fulfillment. Only hindsight reveals the truth, but it also brings perspective.

Desire can lead us to love, but it can also lead us away from it. Love can subvert desire, but it can never truly escape it. One defines us while the other guides us. We need one to get to the other. We need the other to appreciate the one.

Love and desire need not oppose one another, but they rarely complement one another. To follow desire is to seek love. To be in love means channeling desire. From a simple feeling to a life shared, we can only appreciate its power when we embrace both together.

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“Rigor And Sweat” A Sexy Short Story

does-your-sweat-turn-women-on

The following is a sexy short story I wrote about people who don’t understand the value of hard work and those that do. That value has genuine sex appeal, as I hope to demonstrate. Enjoy!

“If you really want something, you need to put in the rigor and sweat.”

That was the mantra that Jennifer Rashad had heard her father, Saul Rashad, tell his many employees at least once a day. As the founder of Silver Chain Industries, one of the most successful companies of the past 30 years, he’d worked to create a culture where people toiled beyond their limits to achieve the sweeter fruits of their labor.

He’d lived by that mantra, having told her and her two older brothers, Raymond and Stefan, the story about what he went through to build his success. He’d been the dirt poor son of a single mother. Now, he was a billionaire married to a former Hollywood actress, whose voluptuous figure Jennifer inherited. He told his story with such pride to family and co-workers alike, reinforcing the value of struggling to achieve something great.

There was just one glaring problem, though. Her father’s message was only selectively applied.

“They’re here!” her brother, Raymond, cheered on a sunny day at her family’s palatial estate. “The X-180 Jet Skis are finally here!”

“A week before they’re officially on sale,” her brother, Stefan, added. “You know what that means, eh bro?”

“A Rashad family test drive?”

“Is there any other kind worth doing?”

The two young men dropped what they were doing and ran out to the private delivery truck that had just backed into the private boat house that was located on the south end of the estate’s ocean-side dock. That dock also housed the family yacht, which her father had named “Rigor.” That seemed somewhat ironic at the moment because that concept seemed empty for Raymond and Stephen.

“Wait!” yelled Michael Prater, the family’s well-paid personal trainer. “We’re barely halfway done with your workout for this morning.”

“We’ll reschedule!” Ray called out. “Some things are more important than our health!”

“Like jet skis,” Stefan said, “new, high-end jet skis!”

They didn’t even turn around to see the annoyed look on their trainer’s face as they sprinted towards the delivery truck. Still in their sweaty workout clothes, they probably weren’t going to change into bathing suits or anything before they took to the water.

Jennifer, who had been reading over emails on her laptop while lounging by the pool in a pair of jean shorts and a tank top, saw Michael’s expression and didn’t blame him for his dismay. He knew as well as the rest of the estate’s staff what a “Rashad Family Test Drive” entailed. It was her brothers’ coy term for parading expensive merchandise to their fellow affluent neighbors. Whether it was boats, cars, or fancy new smartphones, Ray and Stefan took pride in showing off their latest assets to others.

That act of outright boasting wouldn’t have bothered her – or the rest of the staff, for that matter – if her brothers had actually done something to get their hands on that stuff ahead of time. Usually, the most effort they put into it involved making a few phone calls to friends and associates. They didn’t even have to leave their bedrooms to do it. That was hardly in line with their father’s mantra of rigor and sweat.

That didn’t seem to bother him, though. Up on the deck overlooking the pool, Jennifer saw her father casually walking about in the hot summer sun, chatting on his cell phone and conducting business. He just waved to Ray and Stefan as they rolled out the jet skis, not doing or saying anything to stop their behavior. She doubt it would’ve done much good.

“Another day, another bit of unearned rewards,” Jennifer said, sighing to herself. “I should be used to it by now and yet…”

She let her words trail off as she diverted her gaze from her rowdy brothers. It shouldn’t have bothered her. She, Ray, and Stefan had grown up in an affluent world, never wanting for anything or enduring real hardship. Their father, despite his laurels on toil and work ethic, made it that way.

It was blind spot, of sorts, for a man who was usually so attentive to detail. He pushed partners, employees, and co-workers so hard. Her father had once fired a tailor for putting too many buttons on a dress shirt. However, when it came to his children, he made sure they struggled as little as possible.

“You’re my family. It’s my job to take care of you,” was how her father justified it.

Jennifer understood the merit of a man caring for his family. She loved her father dearly because of it. However, it still bothered her in ways that weren’t easy to articulate.

Jennifer certainly had it easier than most, even for a young woman who had inherited her mother’s Hollywood beauty. She went to fancy prep schools as a kid. She got to pick where she wanted to go to college, not even having to fill out an application. Even after she graduated with only a B-average, she still got a high-level position in the family company, but it was one where she didn’t have to do much. In fact, she barely worked four hours a day and made more money than some of her father’s most tenured employees.

Nobody ever criticized or called her out on it. Jennifer even got the impression that the people she worked with and the staff her family employed were afraid of her. She could see in their eyes how they dreaded that one wrong word would get them fired. It created an environment where she couldn’t even attempt to experience the fruits of real rigor…for the most part.

“There’s only one way I can stomach moments like this,” Jennifer told herself as she put away her laptop. “Luckily for me, someone here needs it more than I do.”

She lightly tilted her overpriced sunglasses and cast a glance towards Michael, who kept scolding her brothers for cutting another training session short and subsequently wasting his time. He must have sensed the same need because he turned right towards her, gave her a knowing nod, and stormed back into the mansion.

“I don’t blame you, Michael. Not in the slightest,” she said. “Just be sure you take it all that frustration out on me.”

Knowing the drill as well as he did, Jennifer waited another five minutes, letting the anticipation build. It was just long enough to watch Stefan and Ray high-five each other as they loaded the fancy new jet skis into the water, the typical demeanor of two men enjoying unearned achievement. It added to the general annoyance she felt for her brothers, but it also added a sense of urgency.

“I’m going inside to shower and get dressed, Daddy,” Jennifer called out. “I’ll be ready to join out in the office in about an hour.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Have fun,” her father replied, still very engrossed in his phone call.

Jennifer rolled her eyes. She probably could’ve told her father she was heading out to rob a bank and he would have said the same thing. When he got caught up in work, even on a Saturday, it was hard to get his attention. That didn’t bother her, though. It actually worked to her advantage.

Assured her father and brothers were plenty distracted, she made her way inside the spacious estate that boasted seven bedrooms, seven bathrooms, and a five-car garage. There weren’t many parts of the estate that weren’t absurdly luxurious. There were some areas, though, that weren’t as opulent as others. They also happened to be the places most isolated and necessary for what she had in mind.

“You better be ready to pounce, Michael,” Jennifer said under her breath. “I’ll need some extra rigor this time around.”

Moving faster, she ascended the large staircase in the foyer. She then rushed towards the south end of the mansion where her room was located, complete with oversized closets and a private bathroom better than most five-star hotels. However, that was not her primary destination.

Halfway towards her room, she slowed down. She listened for any maids or cleaners that might have been working off-hours. She heard nothing. Near as she could tell, she was the only one there. The heavy silence, along with the cold air from the air conditioner, sent shivers down her spine. However, they had nothing to do with the cold.

“Just another day in a life of obscene affluence,” Jennifer said, looking around in anticipation.

Those words were the signal. What happened after that was completely beyond her control, in more ways than one.

The instant after she uttered those words, the door of a nearby linen closet burst open and Michael came storming out like a predator in waiting. With his powerful arms and lightning-fast reflexes, he grabbed her from where she stood, putting his hand over her mouth in the process. Jennifer stood no chance, feeling completely powerless as he shoved her into the closest and slammed the door shut behind her.

“Rich, over-privileged bitch,” Michael said in a deep, menacing tone. “Time for some overdue rigor!”

He sounded so intense, like a man willing to work extra hard to get what he wanted. The look in his eyes made clear, even in the dim light of the cramped closet, that she had to work just as hard to keep up with him. That prospect filled Jennifer with so much dread and excitement that she couldn’t tell the feeling apart.

For a brief moment, he kept her pinned against a nearby rack of towels. He wasn’t gentle with her either, his imposing form towering over her and giving no concern for her comfort. For an over-pampered rich girl, it was an unfamiliar feeling, which was exactly why Jennifer found it so hot.

“Now,” he said, taking his hand off her mouth, “get out of those overpriced clothes.”

Panting heavily, her every vein coursing with adrenaline, Jennifer did as he demanded. With trembling hands, she pushed the straps of her tank top off her shoulders and pushed it down her waist and legs. She then undid her jean shorts and took them off too, leaving her in just her bra and panties. When she hesitated, though, Michael pushed her up against the shelf even harder, causing her more strain.

“No stalling!” he barked.

The imposing man pressed his forearm up against her neck, causing her to cough. As she stood pinned and paralyzed from the adrenaline, Michael tore off her bra with one hand. He then did the same for her panties, tearing through the expensive fabric with ease.

Now fully naked, her breasts and pussy exposed to a dominating man who’d once been marine, Jennifer trembled under his penetrating gaze. In that moment, exposed and vulnerable in the utmost, her wealth and pledge meant nothing. For once, she was at the mercy of something more powerful than her father’s influence. For reasons she could only attribute to a full-blown kink, she found it incredibly arousing.

“You pampered little whore,” Michael said, the former marine in him really showing. “You’ve got money, security, and big tits. You’ve never had to struggle for anything, have you?”

“No,” Jennifer said meekly, “I haven’t.”

“Well, that changes now,” he said, “because to get through this, you will have to struggle. Unlike your asshole brothers, you’re going to listen to me and you’re going to make a goddamn effort. Understand?”

“Yes! I understand.”

Jennifer might have said that a bit too eagerly. It showed the extent of how much her kink had intensified over the years. Michael wasn’t the first person with which she’d embraced it, but he’d proven he was most skilled at giving her what she wanted and what she wanted – what she needed for the good of her soul – was for someone to make her work for what she sought.

Michael remained stern, something her previous lovers had been reluctant to do whenever she revealed her fondness for being dominated. He then stepped back, pulling his forearm from her neck so she could breathe easier. His eyes still taking in her naked body, he gazed down on her as though she were the lowest subordinate in all of Silver Chain Industries.

“Get down on your knees,” he told her, “and suck my dick. Suck it until I shoot my load down your gullet.”

She nodded weakly, her demeanor becoming that of a lowly servant and not a spoiled daughter of a billionaire businessman. Under the poor light of the cramped linin closet, she dropped to her knees, the dirty carpet that was rarely vacuumed digging into her skin. Her hands continued to tremble as she grasped the sides of Michael’s athletic shorts and pulled them down along with his boxers, revealing a semi-hard penis.

It was hardly the first time she’d seen his generous endowment. Michael had the kind of dick that strained a woman’s jaw muscles, even those like her who’d been giving oral sex since high school. That didn’t stop her form immediately taking it into her mouth the second it came free. Jennifer knew it was a challenge, giving such a strong man oral sex. That was exactly why she got so turned on by doing it.

“That’s it! Put some effort into it, you privileged bitch,” Michael said as her lips slithered along his dick.

His demanding, crude tone motivated her even more. Jennifer knew she couldn’t half-ass it and still get the job done, as she’d been done all her life. She had to put in real effort. Her father, her money, and her name weren’t going to help her for once.

Taking that notion seriously, she approached sucking Michael’s dick with the kind of effort that had helped make her family company successful. She grabbed hold of the man’s muscular thighs, relaxed her jaw, and bobbed her head back and forth in a hard, rhythmic motion. It was strenuous, testing both her gag reflexes and her ability to bring a man to orgasm. She didn’t assume Michael would make it easy for her. She didn’t want easy.

“Yeah!” he said with a deep grunt. “Suck it hard. Use your tongue. Really work for it.”

Jennifer stepped up her efforts, sucking harder and taking more of his length with every motion. His dick had since become fully erect, really stretching her mouth in ways she wasn’t used to. She still welcomed the challenge, sucking and slurping Michael’s manhood with more effort than any overly-pampered woman would dare.

Michael made it even harder for her, grabbing the sides of her head and holding onto her head to intensify the motion. At one point, he held it still and just fucked her face, as if to let her know how hard he wanted her to suck him. It was so hard that she even gagged a few times, coughing and drooling over his cock. She still kept sucking, though, not daring to wane in her effort.

That sustained rigor, having to suck a dick so hard and meet such unreasonable demands, gave her a powerful rush that intensified her arousal. Jennifer could already feel it between her legs, her pussy getting wetter in accord with the effort. It used to worry her, the idea that being dominated so crudely made her that horny. She’d since embraced it as both a kink and an exercise in work ethic.

“I…I’m ready!” Michael grunted. “I’m gonna come…right down your throat!”

Jennifer summoned whatever energy she had to suck just a little bit harder, pushing herself beyond the limits she thought she had. She gagged a few more times, but didn’t dare lose focus. After a few messy licks, mixed in with some hard face-fucking, she did it. She got Michael to come.

“Ohhh fuck!” the former marine grunted.

As his labored moans echoed throughout the closet, Jennifer felt his cock throb as it released a thick load of manly fluid down her throat. Again, she gagged, but didn’t avoid the strain. She swallowed every last drop, even using her tongue to make sure she got it all. It was part of that extra effort she’d been taught, but never allowed to exercise. While she doubted her father thought she’d employ it through sex, there was no denying the results.

Jennifer remained still as Michael’s body shuddered from his release. She could feel the intensity of his orgasm in the way his legs tensed and his dick twitched inside her mouth. Looking up at him, seeing that look of ecstasy on his face, she saw the fruits of her vigorous labor. It rendered her even more aroused.

“That’s a good dirty girl,” Michael said breathlessly, “so spoiled, yet so determined.”

He withdrew his cock from her mouth. Jennifer gasped and coughed, saliva still dripping down the side of her face. Still looking up at him, breathless and submissive, she pleaded with her eyes for more.

“You’re so pampered, but you still want to work,” he told her, “to feel the sweat and strain of hard, heavy labor.”

“Yes,” she affirmed. “I do.”

“I believe you,” he said with a coy grin. “That’s a rare trait, even among marines. I know because I got discharged for pushing others in all the wrong ways. You, on the other hand…you want to be pushed.”

Jennifer nodded again, submissively and meekly. That fueled Michael’s own fetishes. She suspected that he became a personal trainer because he liked giving orders, having people follow them, and pushing them extra hard. She doubted he’d ever encountered someone as eager to be pushed as her.

It was enough to keep his dick semi-hard, despite his recent climax. That didn’t surprise Jennifer. One climax was rarely enough to satisfy Michael. He needed more work, which was part of why he made her so horny. She continued offering no resistance as he grabbed her by the neck and pulled her back into an upright position.

“Let’s finish this somewhere more spacious,” he said to her.

“Lead the way, Michael,” Jennifer told him.

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll carry you!”

In a show of strength and dominance, Michael put those Marine Corp muscles to good use and lifted her up off the floor. He then opened the closet door, carried her out, and hitched her over the shoulder as though she were disobedient child. Jennifer pretended to struggle at first, but only ended up laughing. She could only pretend so much when she was so horny.

Still naked and at his mercy, she held on as domineering man carried her into her room and into her private bathroom. There, he slammed the door behind him, locked it, and took her to the shower in the corner. He set her down right under the spigot, making her sit on the dirty floor.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Michael said as he took off his shirt and stepped out of his shoes and socks, “I’m going to fuck you…hard. It’s going to be strenuous, rigorous, and exhausting as hell. You’re going to need an extra-long shower by the time it’s over.”

“Is that a warning?” Jennifer asked, goading him with her feeble tone.

“No. It’s a guarantee!”

Looking up at him, his imposing stature casting a shadow over her, made it seem so daunting. Between the size of his muscles, the extent of his endowment, and his conditioning as a former marine who put up with her brothers, the man could ravage her in ways that few could. There would be pain along with the pleasure, discomfort along with the ecstasy.

It was exactly what she wanted, though. Jennifer Rashad, the daughter of a billionaire who only knew comfort and luxury, craved the rigor and the reward.

“Then, there’s nothing left to say,” she said, still on the cold shower floor. “I am at your mercy.”

“And if you want to get through it, you’re gonna have to endure!” he said to her.

The intensity of his tone, as well as his choice of words, heightened her arousal. Her body and mind ached for the rigor Michael promised. He had to know how much his aggressive, dominating approach turned her on. It was part of the process of making her work for it.

“Now, stand up! Face me!” Michael ordered.

Jennifer couldn’t comply fast enough. She shot up from the cold floor so that she stood in the middle of the empty shower. Just being upright proved difficult due to the intense arousal between her legs. She still managed, which was exactly the point. She knew the real rigor had only just begun.

Like a dog in heat pouncing on a mate in heat, he entered the shower stall and pinned her up against the cold marble wall, the dry surface sticking to her naked skin. He then smothered her with his hands and lips, burying his face between her breasts and raking his hands over her naked body. He was not gentle or affectionate, hungrily nibbling on her tits and roughly fondling the outer folds of her pussy.

It was a very aggressive brand of foreplay, but one with an important purpose. It helped set the tone for her while helping him get erect again. Sensations of pain and pleasure surged through her body, overwhelming her senses and sending her into a daze. Jennifer did nothing to oppose Michael’s fervent foreplay, keeping her arms down and back up against the wall. It was uncomfortable, but stimulating. To feel the pleasure, she had to endure the pain.

It began a familiar that Jennifer had come to love and it would only get more strenuous. She could already feel Michael’s dick getting harder. She could sense his burning need as well in the way he roughly fingered her pussy. He was not going to make it easy on her, nor did she want him to.

“Turn around!” Michael ordered.

Her legs weak and her pussy throbbing, Jennifer barely managed to do as he asked. She did just enough though and quickly found herself up against the wall, her still-sore tits pressing up against the dirty marble. Already panting heavily, she could only brace herself for what came next.

“Time to start fucking you,” he said. “I’d tell you to hold on, but…”

He cut himself off, not giving her another second to prepare herself. With maximum leverage from his position behind her and an ironclad hold on her hips, Michael thrust his pelvis forward and entered her. The feeling of his rigid member penetrating her womanly flesh sent surges of sensations coursing through her body, intensifying that pleasure/pain mix he’d established earlier.

Jennifer let out a deep moan, but was quickly silenced when Michael pressed her head up against the wall and began the rough, rigorous, dominating sex that she loved and craved.

“Michael,” she gasped, her voice still muffled, “so hard…so rough.”

“I’m just getting warmed up,” Michael said, whispering directly into her ear.

The former marine in him really showed. The same aggressive bravado that got him discharged earlier also did wonders for his conditioning. He fucked her hard and fast, working his hips at a rapid pace that tested her endurance on multiple levels. Sometimes, there was pain. Sometimes, there was pleasure. Dealing with one was hard enough. Dealing with both required a different kind of strain and Jennifer eagerly rose to the challenge.

Closing her eyes, her nails raking down the cold wall, she gasped and grunted in accord with the rough movements of their sex. She could only do so much to move her body with his, but had to in order to maintain that blend of pain and pleasure. The way her skin roughly stuck to the cold surface added more strain. It also helped her work up a good sweat, more so than any her brothers had gotten during their workout. That seemed to encourage Michael even more.

The sound of his pelvis smacking against her butt filled the bathroom, along with their various grunts and moans. Michael even gave her butt a few light smacks, which helped intensify the pleasure/pain mix. It was strenuous, rigorous, and overwhelming in ways a rich girl in a mansion rarely experienced. Between that intense experience and the added kink behind it, Jennifer achieved orgasm in record time.

“I…I’m…coming!” she gasped, her words muffled by the wall.

“Already?” grunted Michael, sounding humored. “You kinky…pampered…slut!”

Jennifer barely heard him as she crossed that special threshold where the pleasure vastly overshadowed the pain. In an instant, he knees buckled and her lower back arched as she absorbed her sexual release. Michael even had to slow his rapid humping due to the intense throbbing of her inner muscles.

It was so sharp and intense, hitting with a shock rather than a wave. It was a raw, chaotic kind of pleasure that ignited every nerve and sent her mind spiraling like a whirlwind. Being an attractive rich girl, Jennifer had access to all kinds of sex growing up, but few lovers dared to push her out of fear from her father’s wrath. Those brave few, like Michael, made her work for that special level of ecstasy, which made it all the more enjoyable.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Michael warned her as she lingered in her orgasmic state. “You just gave me a reason to step up my efforts!”

While Jennifer was still catching her breath, the imposing man withdrew from her briefly and pulled back from the wall. He then pushed her down to cold floor of the shower that the maid’s hadn’t cleaned in nearly a week.

“On your hands and knees,” Michael told her.

Despite her dazed state, Jennifer still managed to comply. She got on all fours, her head partially on the floor with her butt pointed up at the powerful man before her. He soon joined her on the floor, giving her butt a few hard smacks. He then guided his dick back towards her dripping-wet entrance, but instead of her pussy, he pressed the tip up against her ass.

“If that approach is too easy for you,” Michael said mischievously, “maybe this one will be more challenging.”

Without no further warning and little hesitation, he pushed his cock into her ass, penetrating her once more and sending a fresh shock through her body. Whereas the overwhelming pleasure of orgasm had dominated before, the pain of a different kind of penetration helped re-establish the balance.

“Oohhh!” Jennifer moaned. “My…my butt.”

“Take the pain, rich girl! Take it!” Michael said through labored grunts.

The former marine went to work proving his point, re-establishing the same heated sexual rhythm he’d established earlier. With both feet planted firmly on the floor, both hands firmly on her hips for leverage, he rapidly pumped his cock into her ass. Jennifer, her face still pressed against the floor while her polished nails scratched along the dirty surface, just moaned and gasped from the feeling.

It was intense in a different, but similar way from before. Jennifer didn’t do anal sex often, but when she did, it offered the greatest challenge and the greatest rewards. There was more discomfort, but there was also more ecstasy in the final payoff. It required more effort and pain tolerance. For the kind of payoff she wanted, Jennifer was willing to put in that work.

“So hard…so rough,” she grunted in between Michael’s fervent movements.

“Ohhh yeah!” Michael seethed. “I know…how much…you love it.”

More moans and grunts echoed throughout the shower. More sweat formed on her skin. Every breath became labored and every motion came with great strain. With that strain, though, came a unique rush. It went beyond any sensation of pleasure. For Jennifer, it evoked a unique feeling that went beyond work, sex, and ecstasy.

On an unwashed shower floor, naked and vulnerable where her wealth couldn’t protect her, she toiled and struggled to get what she wanted. She endured a kind of hardship that her parents hadn’t allowed. It was as revealing as it was kinky, but it also had a twisted logic to it. By straining and struggling, the feelings she achieved were more meaningful.

“Rigor…sweat…pain…and pleasure,” Jennifer said as her body rocked to Michael’s ravaging. “I want it. I…I feel it.”

Through the imposing man’s relentless movements, the pain gave way to the pleasure. The discomfort morphed into ecstasy. From those rough, vigorous movements, Jennifer achieved another orgasm.

Unlike the first one, Michael didn’t slow down. He just kept pounding into her in pursuit of his own peak. She doubted he noticed her climaxing again. All she got out was a muffled gasp as her body shuddered under the weight of intense pleasure and heavy strain. It was the ultimate manifestation of that potent mixture of pain and pleasure, creating that powerful feeling that she found so uniquely satisfying.

As the intense sensations rendered her dazed, Michael finally approached his climax as well. She could hear him seething with every movement, throwing in a swat of her butt and a quick squeeze of her breast as he approached the threshold.

“Almost…there!” he grunted. “Going to…come…soon!”

Jennifer kept enduring, even after the orgasmic rush had passed. Her world kept rocking, her body moving sharply in conjunction with each thrust. Finally, Michael tasted the fruits of his hard labor as well.

Upon steading his hips, he let out a deep, masculine moan that filled the bathroom as he released his load into her. Jennifer could feel his member throbbing intensely, his grip on her naked flesh tensing in conjunction with his release. Being a former marine, he valued such intense exertion greater than most. It made him a good personal trainer for the family, but it made him an even better lover.

“Such hard, sweaty work,” Jennifer said with a content purr.

“It’s a…a beautiful thing. Isn’t it?” Michael said, still short of breath.

“Indeed, it is.”

The job was complete. They both got what they’d worked for. Michael, now covered in sweat, withdrew his cock from her ass and rose up. She remained on the dirty floor, rolling over and sitting with her back against the wall as she caught her breath.

Looking up, she saw a very different man than the one who had been fucking her ass just a few moments ago. Beyond being short of breath and very satisfied, he was smiling. The intense aggression with which he had pursued their laborious sex had faded and rightly so. Like her, their worked hard and it paid off.

To some extent, the ecstasy they shared reflected that family motto of rigor and sweat. She doubted her father intended it to have such a kinky connotation, but there was no getting around the results.

“I’ll turn the shower on,” he told her. “Take all the time you need. I’ll duck into one of the guest rooms.”

“I’ll be okay, Michael,” she said, smiling back. “Thank you…for challenging me in just the way I needed.”

“Thank you for putting in more effort than your brothers.”

“One of us had to,” Jennifer said proudly. “At some point, though, we’ll have to let them know that our workouts involve more than just weight training.”

“Only if we leave out the part where the woman I love enjoys getting ravaged,” he added.

“Only if you don’t tell them just how much you love ravaging me,” she quipped.

“That’s going to be hard.”

“I know,” Jennifer said, “but I’m a Rashad. Whether it’s love or hard fucking, we don’t shy away from rigor and sweat!”

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