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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Summer BBQ Edition

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Summer has arrived. The weather is hot, school is out, pools are open, and bikinis are back in style. For anyone who values the ability to lounge around naked, it’s a wonderful time of year. While I’ve made my love of casual nudity known, there are plenty of other summer activities that I enjoy. A few of them can even be done while fully clothed.

One of them is a good summer barbecue. While I’m not that picky an eater, I’ve always had a special place in my heart for good barbecue. It helps that I come from a family that will make any excuse to have a barbecue. It doesn’t matter if it’s a holiday or not. If we can all get together, fire up a grill, and cook some great food, then we’ll find a way to make it happen.

I’ve always found barbecue to be the most social kind of eating. It’s the kind of food where you don’t just sit at a table. You walk around, you interact, and you create a fun atmosphere for all to enjoy. To some extent, it’s downright intimate. You’re eating food that’s fresh off the grill and hanging out in an open environment. Whether with family or strangers, it’s something everyone can appreciate.

Summer is prime barbecue season. I certainly plan on attending more than a few. I encourage everyone else who’s fond of hot weather and cold beer to participate whenever they can. This edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts is my way of ushering in this unique summer activity. Hopefully, it makes you hungry, among other things.


“Alcohol is probably just as responsible for creating many relationships as well as ruining them.”


“Love is the bedrock for a successful relationship, but orgasms are bricks and cement that help build it up.”


“In essence, a romantic gesture is just a more elaborate form of foreplay.”


“Take away the sex and prostitutes really aren’t that different from politicians.”


“If laughter is the best medicine, then making love is the best therapy.”


“Good lovers tend to their partner’s needs, but great lovers help them discover new ones.”


“A date is basically an elaborate guessing game on what will convince someone to regularly have sex with you.”


I hope that helped everyone work up an appetite. Summer has a great many appeals. Good barbecue is just one of them. Even without a gathering or an event, any season is made better by good food. If you have a chance to get out and enjoy one, I encourage you to do so. After all, no epic romance or sexy activity can be done on an empty stomach.

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“Sweet And Dirty” A Sexy Short Story

fea-sex-relationships-study

The following is a sexy short story I wrote about sweet women who talk dirty. I’ve known more than a few in my life. I even dated one. She was fun to be around. As someone who has a deep appreciation for the spoken and written word, they have a special place in my heart. Enjoy!

To most people, Layla Larone was the sweetest young woman that anyone had ever met. She had a smile that could light up any room, a feminine figure that rivaled that of any angel, and a spirit that made everyone want to be near her on their darkest days. Aden Stan knew that sweet side better than most. As her lover and fiancé, he drew plenty of envy from those who’d been captivated by Layla’s aura.

“Man, I still can’t believe you’re marrying Layla freaking Larone,” said Aaron Jay, Aden’s cousin and long-time friend.

“Gee, thanks,” Aden said, rolling his eyes. “You make it sound like I’m such a fine catch.”

“Come on! Don’t be like that, cous,” Aaron responded. “You’re an objectively great guy, but let’s not ignore the bigger picture, here.”

“And what picture might that be?”

“The same one everyone has been seeing since high school,” his cousin said. “Some women just have that special something – that perfect combination of looks, charisma, and energy that sets them apart. They could do anything, go anywhere, and be with anyone. She could go to Europe and marry a prince. She could go to any city and win over every heart. Hell, she could go to some remote village in the Amazon and be declared queen.”

“And yet she chose to be with me,” Aden said proudly. “A washed-up track star who makes his living as a contractor for his dad’s company.”

“Now, you’re just rubbing it in.”

“Am I? Or is there an even bigger picture you’re not seeing?” he teased.

“Now, you’re just being a dick.”

Aden and his cousin shared a good laugh, finishing up a cold beer on what had been another successful barbecue. Aaron’s family, who lived a couple blocks from the townhouse he and Layla shared, always threw one on the first weekend of May. They invited friends, neighbors, and family from all over, just to get together, catch up, and show off their fancy grilling equipment.

Aden hadn’t missed one since college and Layla never passed up an opportunity to meet, socialize, and endear herself to everyone even more. She also used it as an excuse to wear her newest sun dress. It was an unofficial rule in the neighborhood that winter wasn’t over until Layla Larone graced the world with her angelic beauty and summer fashion. By every measure, the rule had been met.

“You and Aaron throw such wonderful cookouts, Maya,” she told to Aaron’s sister. “After the winter we’ve had, this is such a treat.”

“You’re too kind, Layla,” Maya replied as she put out a fresh plate of hot dogs, “and I mean that literally. You didn’t have to help set up the tables and rent the bouncy house for the kids.”

“I know it’s more than usual, but I think the children are enjoying it. Even some of the adults are having fun!”

“Only after a few drinks,” she laughed. “But seriously, you got to keep raising the bar like this…being so kind and sweet to us all. You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

“I do what I can and I’m glad to do it,” Layla said with that distinct blend of pride and humility. “I’ve always believed in going the extra mile. It shows others just how much we care.”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say everyone knows how much you care. I almost feel bad for Aden. After today, all the men in the neighborhood are going to be even more jealous he’s marrying you.”

“That, unfortunately, I cannot help with.”

The two women laughed. Aden just kept smiling. Even though he’d been with her for years, she still lit up his world in her own special way. He didn’t care if it drew envy from everyone else in the neighborhood. He had the love of the most beautiful woman in the world and he wasn’t going to apologize for that.

If only they knew the full extent of Layla Larone’s love.

“Speaking of my future husband,” Layla said, “I believe he’s due for some extra care.”

“Go for it,” said Maya, rolling her eyes. “I got a grill to man and a brother who’s been bugging me about undercooked burgers.”

“I heard that,” said Aaron with a bemused look.

“Good!” she quipped. “Now, stop using your ears and put those grilling skills to use. You’re the one who brags he can cook the perfect burger blindfolded. Either prove it or join your buddies in the bouncy house.”

Aaron shook his head and joined his sister at the grill, but not before shooting Aden another knowing glance. Layla’s presence had already had such a significant impact. The last thing he wanted anyone to do was rub it in. Aden was tempted, but preferred to just raise his half-empty bottle of beer and smile.

That smile got wider as Layla joined him, quickly pulling him into a light embrace under the midday sun. She also threw in a peck on the cheek for all to see. It wasn’t much, but a peck from her gesture from her was akin to multiple kisses from a dozen angels. Just holding her in his arms, watching as others enjoyed the barbecue festivities, was enough to make any season feel like spring.

Then, once Aaron joined Maya at the grill and became immersed in his work, Layla leaned in closer and whispered something into his ear.

“I’m not wearing any panties right now,” she said in a deep, sensual voice that stood in stark contrast to the tone she’d used earlier.

Aden almost spit up his beer. That was the part of Layla Larone’s love that few others experienced, let alone appreciated. She didn’t show it to just anyone, but when she did, it had an impact.

“I wore them when we arrived,” she added. “I ditched them when I saw help that contractor fix the bouncy house. You know damn well watching you fix things makes me wet.”

“Jeez, Layla,” Aden said, “I wish I’d remembered that before I put on my tightest pair of jeans this morning.”

“Good think I’m also charitable when I’m horny.”

Most of the time, charity meant Layla volunteering at the soup kitchen, which she did at least twice a month. On some rare, yet special occasions, it meant purposefully rubbing her thigh up against his groin, diverting a good share of his blood to his lower body.

Aden had to hide his reaction, his grin becoming more awkward as he embraced his fiancé closer, if only to hide what she was doing in broad daylight. That did little to dissuade her. She just kept rubbing up against him, her every touch making her intentions clear and they were not those of a sweet, innocent woman.

“Um…how is that helping?” he asked his still-smiling fiancé.

“You mean besides getting your dick hard?” Layla replied curtly.

“That part was implied, I hope,” Aden said sheepishly.

She laughed, but the look in her eye became more devious. It was subtle, but not to him. She knew as well as him that he was one of the select few individuals who knew about her less-than-angelic sight.

“It’s simple logistics,” she said to him. “If your dick gets hard, that means you’re horny too. If you’re horny, then you’ll be more amenable to certain requests from your fiancé.”

“Requests? Like what?” Aden asked, as though he didn’t already know.

“One that involves making use of that guest room Aaron just renovated…the one that’s upstairs, away from prying eyes, and well-insulated from noise.”

There it was, again. The subtlety was gone. The public persona that Layla Larone so eagerly shared with others faded, making way for a much naughtier and kinkier side.

It was a well-kept secret that few ever thought to entertain. Layla was a dirty, sex-crazed freak. She looked for any excuse to ditch her panties and get frisky, often outside the confines of a locked bedroom. She also liked to talk dirty. However, her brand of sensual rhetoric often went blunt requests. In many respects, it reflected the unique way in which she shared herself with her lovers.

“That room only has mattress and a dresser,” Aden pointed out, as though that would dissuade her.

“That’s more than enough for some midday fucking,” Layla said.

“In that case, how subtle do you want to be this time?”

“Leave that to me!”

In an instant, the sweet persona everyone knew took over briefly and she took his hand in hers. With an overly chipper demeanor, she turned back towards Aaron and Maya.

“We’ll be right back!” she said casually. “I need to call my mom about some wedding plans. Aden needs to be there if he doesn’t want her going cheap on the cake.”

“Do what you need to do, love birds,” said Maya, who barely looked away from the grill.

“Just tell her not to skimp on the meat,” added Aaron. “There’s no way I’m working with prepackaged frozen shit!”

“I’ll remind her,” said Aden, trying hard to match his love’s demeanor.

He didn’t sound the least bit convincing. He still sounded like a man with a growing boner in his pants and a beautiful woman with no panties. Neither Aaron nor Maya seemed to notice, though. They were too caught up in grilling while everyone else was having fun at the tables and bouncy house. They had no idea what was about to unfold nearby.

That only encouraged Layla, whose kinky persona took over once more. Grabbing his wrist, she led him into the house through the basement. From there, they rushed up the stairs together, the music and laughter from outside fading fast. Along the way, as Aden followed behind her, his adventurous fiancé found a new way to tempt them.

Just as they reached the top of the steps, she lifted her sun dress up just enough to see under. Sure enough, Aden saw that she hadn’t been lying. She wasn’t wearing any panties.

“No underwear at a backyard barbecue,” he commented. “It must really be spring.”

“It still isn’t official, yet,” Layla replied seductively. “Not until I’ve tasted your cock with my lips and pussy.”

“And you want to make it official now?”

“Fuck yes!” she said without hesitation.

As if to prove it, she urged him to move faster, pulling on his arm and guiding him up the last round of stairs. Now on the top floor of Aaron’s suburban house, they slipped into the guest bedroom halfway down the hall. As soon as they were inside, Layla kicked the door shut and pulled him into another embrace. However, it was very different from the one they’d shared moments ago in front of other onlookers.

She faced him and he faced her, an intense look in her eye that stood in stark contrast to the sweet aura she usually projected. She snaked his arms around his neck while he slipped his around her waist, walking with her to the undersized bed in the center of the room that didn’t even have any sheets on it.

“Look me in the eye, Aden,” Layla said intently. “Tell me what I am.”

“I think…you’re an incredible woman,” Aden said, already breathless within her grasp. “You’re willing to rent a bounce house for children on the same day you’re willing to fuck your fiancé in someone else’s house.”

“Is that all?” she asked, clearly not content with his assessment.

“You’ve also got a dirty mouth that you hide so fucking well,” he went on. “You’ll talk about treating sick children one minute and how wet your pussy is the next.”

“Is that all?” she repeated, sounding more impatient with every passing second.

“You’re also the kind of woman who loves having a hidden kinky side. You get a genuine kick out of being so sweet in public, but so wild in private. You’ll smile for the cameras. Then, you’ll whisper into my ear how much you love taking it up the ass in the shower.”

“Is…that…all?” she asked, almost demanding a specific answer at that point.

Her grip on him intensified. She also rubbed her thigh up against his crotch with more force, causing him to wince slightly as his pants grew even tighter. Layla wasn’t making it easy on him, but he understood better than most that loving her wasn’t just a blessing. It was a challenge.

“You’re also a dirty fucking slut who loves to get fucked and freely admits it with as much profanity as possible,” Aden finally said.

“You’re goddamn right!” Layla replied, already sounding like an animal in heat.

She hungrily kissed his lips, shoving her tongue into his mouth and guiding him closer to the bed. Still as impatient as ever, she grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off over his head. Then, just as they reached the foot of the bed, she pushed aside the straps of her summer dress and let it fall to the floor, revealing her fully-naked body to him.

“My God, Layla,” Aden gasped upon feeling her naked skin touch his. “You ditched the bra too?”

“Are you really that surprised?” she quipped. “You think a dirty fucking slut would wear a bra on a warm spring day with her stud fiancé?”

When she put it like that, it almost seemed absurd. Aden didn’t bother overthinking it. There was a naked Layla Larone standing before him and if she wanted to channel her naughty side, who was he to stop her?

Passion and desire took over, his own naughty side emerging from its depths. He kissed her hard, just like she liked it, which meant plenty of force and tongue. He also felt up the curves of her naked body, marveling at her smooth skin, ample breasts, and perfectly-round ass. He wasn’t gentle or soft, either. He knew Layla didn’t like it that way. He grasped and groped his way around her naked body, further intensifying her desire while furthering her own.

He could still tell she was much hornier than him. At one point, he slipped his hand between her legs and grazed his fingers up the moist slit of her pussy. It was already fully engorged. Seeing him fix that bouncy house really had gotten her horny. Men who worked, sweated, and stayed in shape over the winter were a real turn-on for her and he took pride in being that kind of man.

“Feel my tits. Feel my butt. Touch my pussy,” she gasped in between kissing. “You’re just making me hungry for your big, hard cock!”

It sounded like something right out of a porno, but Layla’s sexual intensity was far greater than any porn star. Aden learned that on their second date and she just loved reminding him.

While he thoroughly explored her naked body, she’d been hard at work, undoing his belt and loosening his pants. That hadn’t been easy, thanks to the throbbing erection she’d given him, courtesy of those dirty words she’d shared. She still managed to get him off along with his underwear. As soon as his cock popped free, the kinky side of Layla took over once more.

“Sit down,” she ordered. “I’m going to suck your dick and I’m going to suck it good!”

“You always do, my slut fiancé,” Aden said, throwing in some dirty talk of his own.

Encouraged and very much aroused, he offered no resistance as his lover plopped him down on the bed. Now sitting on the edge with his legs draped over the side, his horny fiancé dropped to her knees, doing a seductive dance of sorts, as if to show off just how naughty she could be.

“I’ve always been a good girl with naughty proclivities,” she said seductively. “I’ve always behaved myself when I had to…done all the things I was supposed to. But when the lights go off and the mood sets in, another side of me takes over…one who doesn’t mind getting naked, sucking dick, and letting her lover know what she likes.”

“Good thing I fell in love with both sides,” he remarked.

“Yes…very fucking good.”

That lurid look in her eye never waned as she knelt down, pushed his legs apart, and licked her lips in anticipation. Aden, knowing little could stop Layla when her naughty side took over, leaned back on his arms and let her go to work.

With no hesitation whatsoever, she took the proverbial plunge and devoured his cock, taking almost his entire length into her mouth. Aden let out a deep moan, savoring the feeling of her lips, tongues, and throat surrounding his manhood. Once again, Layla astonished him with her deep-throating skills. He swore she’d been born without a gag reflex.

She’d also been born without restraint when it came to sexual hang-ups. After getting that initial taste of his manly flesh, she began sucking and slurping with lustful glee. The way she went about it was more akin to a sex-crazed whore than a pure-hearted angel.

“Ohhh fuck!” Aden grunted. “So good…you suck dick so good, Layla.”

That crude, but accurate assessment encouraged her even more. In addition to having a dirty mouth, herself, she loved it when others shared in the vulgar spirit. Having had a father and uncle who served in the army, Aden had no trouble mixing profanity with passion.

He muttered more strings of lurid rhetoric as his future wife sucked his dick, watching with awe as her head bobbed up and down in accord with each motion. She was so thorough and intense, as though she were gorging on her favorite treat. It was not the technique of a woman who gave oral sex just because her lover enjoyed it. It was very much the demeanor of a woman who genuinely loved sucking dick, being sexy, and having fun in her own special way.

“Mmm…good dick,” Layla said with muffled words. “So fucking good. Making me…so fucking wet.”

She stepped up the pace of her sucking, so much so that saliva dripped messily down his shaft. She didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. She just kept at it, using one had to squeeze the base of his shaft and the other to finger her pussy. She was descending into that deep, primal mindset where higher thought ceased and basic desires reigned supreme.

Aden quickly joined her in that daze. His arms barely supported him as his manhood throbbed with arousal. Sharp sensations of bliss coursed through his body, stirring a potent blend of love and lust. Layla might have been his future wife, destined to bear his children. At that moment, though, she was just a horny bitch who needed to get fucked.

“This dick…need more of it,” Layla said, practically seething with desire as she ceased her sucking. “Please, Aden…fuck me.”

“Is that what you want?” Aden asked her, as though he had a shred of doubt.

“Yes!” she said desperately. “Please…fill me with your cock. Hump me like the whore I am!”

“Such a dirty, filthy mouth,” he laughed in response. “If that’s how much future wife is going to talk, then that’s how I’m going to fuck her!”

In that moment, Aden became a man that few would recognize outside an intimate setting. He often carried himself with such calm reserve, always staying focused and in control of himself. Few ever saw him cut loose and unleash his passions. Layla was one of the select few and the only who could inspire the full extent of his passions.

Like a man possessed, he grabbed his fiancé by the armed and pulled her up onto the bed. He then laid her down on the unmade bed, got on top of her, and hitched her legs over his shoulders. As soon as he felt the tip of his throbbing cock graze the moist folds of her wet entrance, he didn’t hesitate for a second. With a firm thrust of his hips, he entered Layla and began making love to her with the rough, heated fervor he knew she loved.

“Yes! Ooh fuck yes!” she cried out. “That’s it! Fuck me with that dick! Fuck me like a dirty skank!”

“Ohhh Layla,” was all Aden could get out.

Anything he moaned at that point was vastly muted by Layla’s profane dirty talk. No matter how many times he heard it, especially after seeing her act so sweet and kind in front of others, it inspired a special kind of passion. It affirmed, once again, just how special a woman she was. As such, she deserved whatever rough, dirty sexy she wanted.

Aden gladly and eagerly gave that to her, letting masculine instinct take over as he pumped his cock inside her like a well-oiled piston, working his hips and rocking his lover’s naked body with his. He wasn’t gentle or careful. That wasn’t how she liked it. He just hammered away, making sure the manly sinews of his body slithered seamlessly with her feminine flesh.

He even made sure she had room to show off that dirty mouth of hers, kissing down her neck and nibbling around her shoulder as their sex intensified. He knew how much Layla loved it. She loved being devoured by her lover, rather than treated like some pure flower. She’d told him how her previous lovers rarely dared to let loose and fuck her like she wanted. Aden had done more than just dare.

Every movement seemed to inspire another gasp.

Every plunge into her womanly depths evoked another vulgar proclamation of how much she loved to get fucked.

Every reaction, vulgar or not, reminded him why he’d fallen so madly in love with her.

“Layla…my love…my dirty, dirty lover,” he grunted.

“Yes! Oohhh fuck yes!” Layla moaned. “I’m such a dirty slut…a dirty, fucking slut! Keep fucking me like one! Keep…fucking me…oohhh fuck!”

She was about to climax. Aden could sense it and Layla didn’t hide it. The way she raked her nails down his back, arched her lower body, and curled her toes made it abundantly clear. The loud, orgasmic moans laced with profanity just helped reaffirm it.

“Come, my slutty fiancé. Come!” he said right into her ear.

His words were drowned out by more vulgar moans. He finally slowed the pace of their heated lovemaking, if only to give his future wife a moment to enjoy the ecstasy. It was another colorful kink for a woman few imagined could be kinky. It didn’t take much to bring Layla to orgasm. Just fucking her hard and letting her cuss like an unapologetic whore did the trick. There was no need for elaborate technique or setup. He just had to fuck her like she wanted to be fucked.

“You fuck me so good,” Layla said breathlessly.

“Of course, I do,” he told her confidently.

“Then please…let me return the favor.”

The grin on Aden’s face widened. He knew what that meant and for once, Layla didn’t need her dirty mouth to spell it out for him.

Following the passions that so defined their bawdy sex life, he withdrew from her briefly and repositioned their bodies. With burning urgency, he turned her over so that she was on her knees with her hands pressed up against the freshly-painted wall. Now facing that perfectly-shaped butt of hers, Aden licked his lips with the same lustful hunger that she’d shown before sucking his dick earlier. Still bearing a throbbing-hard cock, he got behind her and guided his flesh back into her.

However, instead of her pussy, he pressed the tip up against her ass. Then, with little warning or reservation, he thrust his hips forward and entered her anally.

“Oohhh Adan!” Layla gasped. “My ass…you’re fucking my ass!”

She said it with such glee, revealing to any who might have heard how she felt about anal sex. Nobody heard her so, as far as the rest of the world knew, Layla was still that sweet, innocent girl who never would’ve contemplated the idea. Aden was among the select few who knew how much she loved it. In fact, she loved it so much that she could enjoy it with little lube or preparation.

“So tight!” Aden grunted. “God, I love how good it feels!”

“Me too!” Layla moaned. “I love anal sex! I fucking love it!”

Encouraged and longing for his own release, Aden resumed his fervent humping. Grabbing hold of her waist, digging his knees and feet into the mattress, he hammered away into her flesh. Together, their bodies rocked, along with the bed, as he worked his member within her tight butt. He even threw in a few light swats, which always got a colorful reaction from Layla, complete with more profanity.

Aden barely heard any of those vulgar words, at that point. He was too focused on reaching his peak. He could feel it coming strong, his manly flesh burning hot with anticipation. He’d already worked up a light sweat, which seemed fitting in the muggy spring warmth. After all, the barbecue was supposed to celebrate the arrival of spring. He and Layla were just doing so in their own kinky way.

After a good round of rough sex, coupled with more sexy spankings, Aden felt himself approaching the threshold. He was almost certain that Layla came again at one point, but he was too lost in his own bliss to take note of it. He just humping and pumping away at his love’s ass, savoring her angelic beauty as much as her devious verbiage. She always did her part, bucking her hips and rocking her body in accord with his, building up towards that special feeling where lovemaking and hard fucking became the same thing.

Soon, Aden was ready to peak, all the ravenous, profanity-laced sex about to culminate. As he approached, he leaned over, transferred his grip to her swaying breasts, and whispered into his kinky lover’s ear.

“I’m coming, Layla,” he said in a low, heavily masculine tone. “I’m coming in your ass…my future wife.”

“Come, future husband,” Layla playfully replied. “Fill my ass with your cum!”

That last round of dirty talk helped send him over the edge. After a few more thorough motions, he achieved his climax. White hot sensations surged through his body. His expression tensed, along with almost every muscle in his face as he released his load into her depths. His dick throbbed and her inner muscles clenched, milking him for every last drop. It was an intense feeling, full of that special brand of intimacy that he and Layla had forged together.

It was not a typical intimacy, by any measure. It was also not an intimacy anyone would’ve believed. Layla was just too sweet and such passion seemed too dirty. That didn’t make it any less meaningful. If anything, that made it special.

“I love you…my dirty fucking fiancé,” Aden said as he withdrew from her, but kept her in his naked embrace.

“I love you too,” she replied, “my handsome fucking stud.”

“And I love how you manage that filthy mouth of yours,” he added with a coy grin.

“Ha! You think this is me managing it?” she scoffed. “If so, then you’re in for a real shock on our honeymoon!”

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Daily Sexy Musing: Early Morning Loving

morning

When people contemplate the perfect time to make love, they rarely single out early morning hours. More often than not, the morning is the time for afterglow. It’s the time when you and your lover relax, reflect, and enjoy the memories of the love you’d made the night before. I completely respect and appreciate that approach. It can definitely work.

However, I am a morning person. I feel like that’s an increasingly rare personality type these days. When I tell people I’m a morning person, they look at me as though I just told them I have a pet dragon in the trunk of my car. I don’t deny that it’s difficult to be a morning person. If it weren’t, the coffee industry wouldn’t be a $74 billion a year industry.

It’s still possible and I know this from personal experience. My ex-girlfriend in college was the same. I can even attest that we were at our most affectionate in the early hours of the morning. That was when we had the most energy and drive. I like to think we made good use of it. I hope others do the same.

I imagine the majority of people reading this don’t consider themselves morning people. Those that are appreciate that unique feeling that comes with becoming fully awake and feeling so focused that you can do anything with your day. When you’ve got a lover who’s wired the same way, things can get pretty sexy. This Daily Sexy Musing offers some intimate insights into this increasingly unique mentality. Enjoy!

The sun rises.

The alarm sounds.

Our spirits awaken.

Our bodies follow suit.

My day begins on the highest of notes. I open my eyes and you’re the first thing I see. Mere hours ago, we crawled under the sheets, tired and drained from the previous day. We had the passion, but not the energy to express our love. Now, as the light from the sunrise creeps through the window, a spark ignites.

I lean in and kiss you.

You cuddle up to me and kiss back.

Our naked skin makes contact.

We arouse one another for the day that awaits.

There’s no need for an elaborate journey. Fancy clothes, excessive makeup, and expensive activities are an afterthought. We’re already at the finish line. What we seek is already within our grasp. We’ll never be as alert or energized as we are right now. Why not make the most of it?

The warm light, the crisp air, and our disheveled disposition gives us all the right incentives. While others battle restlessness and dismay, we lay a strong, passionate foundation for our day. It may start with a kiss and an embrace, but that’s not where it stops. We dare to make that foundation stronger.

The warmth from the sun spreads.

The sheets of our bed ruffle.

The touch of our bodies intensifies.

The sinews enmesh in a glorious celebration.

What others see as a culmination for a day, we see as an inspiration. Whereas the morning brings dread for some, we use its refreshing spirit to forge our own path. Already, we are ahead of the game. We’ve savored our desert before we’ve had our first meal. We made waking up the best part of our day. Everything else can only make it better.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Dirty Loving

mud-couple

Love is sweet, but sex is dirty. That’s one of the first things you notice when you start consuming romantic media. Even though society has become more sex positive in recent years, there’s no avoiding generations of innuendo and connotations that links sex with all things dirty. Even some aspects of love get caught up in that comparison.

It can be frustrating, and even a little annoying, to see such Puritanical themes in romance, but there are also times when it feels fitting. When you get right down to it, the sexy moments we share with our lovers are objectively dirty. There’s nudity, touching, kissing, and the swapping of various body fluids. It doesn’t always happen on a warm bed with clean bed sheets, either.

There are times when getting dirty is exactly what a moment needs to gain that extra-sexy aura. Sure, there’s plenty of appeal to getting frisky with your lover in the Presidential Suite of a Four Seasons hotel on a private island in the Caribbean. There’s also some appeal to slipping into a dark, dirty broom closet that smells like bleach and dust to get intimate.

It speaks to just how flexible, imaginative, and kinky we can be in exercising our sexy side. That process often requires that we shed the clean, refined traditions we assume are so vital and channel our nasty side. It takes many forms and can make for some incredibly hot moments. This Daily Sexy Musing is my personal dive into those dirty, filthy, disgusting moments that we still love. Enjoy!

The air is muggy.

The floor is dirty.

The lighting is poor.

The mood is tense.

Everything around us so unkempt, devoid of polish or refinement. It’s like the wildness has invaded our domain and won handily, reverting our civilized structures to decrepit relics. To anyone else, it’s the least desirable domain. For us, it is the ultimate destination.

Here, we need not be formal.

Here, we need not be elaborate.

Here, we need not be dignified.

Beneath our clean clothes and groomed flesh, we are the same animals that once rolled around in filth, unashamed and unafraid. No amount of soap, polish, or refinement can wash away our primal nature. Nothing can be done to silence that urge to just throw it all away and run towards the dirtiness.

I take your hand, sweaty and unwashed. We shed all fear and reservation of all things unclean. Sweat, saliva, and grime no longer repulse us. Instead, we savor the unrefined feeling, tapping into instincts long hidden. This filthy domain tried to dissuade us. Instead, we make it our own.

Every kiss is messy and sloppy.

Every touch is unguided and unabashed.

Every sound is raw and animalistic.

The dirt becomes our bed and the dank air becomes our blanket. Free and untamed, we smother each other in our own filth. I taste your truest self and you taste mine. Like unrefined sweets, it confounds our senses, but exhilarates our passions.

Inspired by unclean thoughts and actions, we let the filth collect on our flesh. What takes us such time and effort to clean is sullied so quickly and with great ease. There’s no need to be careful or restrained.

You want our love to get raw.

You want our bodies to messy.

I answer your filthy desires.

I proceed to dirty you from head to toe.

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Memorial Day 2019 Edition

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There’s no getting around it. War and conflict have shaped human society in ways that are impossible to overstate. The people who end up fighting in those conflicts often pay a high price for their role. Some end up paying with their lives while others pay through the trauma that follows them home.

That’s part of what makes Memorial Day such an important occasion. Most people are related to or know someone who has served. It takes a special kind of spirit to serve one’s country. It’s not just about being willing and able to venture to foreign battlefields in the name of their country. Soldiers have something unique that helps them serve the way they do.

I have multiple family members who served their country. Some of my distant relatives served in World War II. A few who are still with us served in Vietnam. That special something that helped them serve with honor is apparent. It’s something no parade can ever fully capture, but it’s still worth celebrating.

To all the veterans who have served, as well as the brave men and women serving at this very moment, I thank you for your sacrifice. You blood, sweat, and patriotism is part of what makes the way of life we’ve come to cherish possible. Let this round of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts honor you in its own special way. Enjoy!


“How someone develops a spanking fetish is often weirder than the fact they have a spanking fetish.”


“Sex needs no advertising, but requires plenty of negotiations.”


“Making out is just a PG-13 form of foreplay.”


“Hate sex is like dangerously spicy food in that it causes great discomfort, but has inescapable appeal.”


“Part of loving someone means knowing how to share a bathroom with them.”


“Being in love means having sex on a good day, but true love means doing it on your worst day.”


“At its core, flirting is asking someone to help you have an orgasm.”


Once again, thank you to all the brave men and women who have served their country and are currently serving. If you wish to help our country’s veterans, please consider donating to organizations like the Wounded Warrior Project and the Purple Heart Foundation. There are many ways to show love, but on Memorial Day, please make the extra effort to show them what they mean to us.

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“My Favorite Client” A Sexy Short Story (For Memorial Day)

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The following is a sexy short story that was partially inspired by some real-life anecdotes about men coping with loss with the help of sex workers. A good portion of those stories came from men who had served in the military and in the spirit of Memorial Day, I wanted to capture the beauty of those experiences.

Whether you’re a veteran or just someone who has had to find ways to cope with loss, I hope you can appreciate this. Enjoy!

“The first Thursday of the month,” Reyna Stanly said to herself, “the best day of any month in my otherwise fucked up life.”

The young woman carried herself with more energy than usual and for good reason. It was a welcome day of contentment, especially for a professional escort. As someone who lived a life of ever-evolving risks and obstacles, she understood the value of those days better than most. After the week she’d endured, she needed one.

Having arrived at the mid-level hotel a half-hour ago, Reyna made her way up to the eighth-floor suite, as she’d done many times before. She wore the same low-cut black dress that she’d worn for the past several encounters with the special client that awaited her at the end of the hall. It wasn’t too sexy. Most people who saw it wouldn’t associate it with an escort or sex worker. Walking through the lobby, she looked like someone on her way to a dinner party at an overpriced restaurant.

Compared to what most clients asked her to wear, it was a welcome touch style. It made her feel like she was playing a role rather than providing a service. For the client that awaited her – a very special, very important client that she’d come to cherish – she took great pride in playing that role. It meant almost as much as her as it did to him.

“If only everyone in my life appreciated my dedication as much as you, Willie,” Reyna sighed as she approached the door.

As she prepared for the not-so-typical job before her, she lamented that the most decent male role model in her life was someone she’d met while escorting. It would’ve been hilarious if it weren’t true, but from where she came from, role models were hard to come by.

Her father had walked out on her mother and sister when she was six. After that, her mother went onto date a string of loser guys, eventually marrying one who could help pay off her gambling debts. It hadn’t been out of the goodness of his heart, though. That man, who she still refused to call her father, only kept her out of debt so she wouldn’t give him any crap out about cheating on her.

Her older sister followed a similar path, attracting all the wrong men before marrying the one who got her pregnant in high school, albeit after some heated coaxing. Theirs was not a stable marriage, to say the least. They fought more than they loved, cheated on each other so often that Reyna could practically set her watch to it. She escaped that environment the first chance she got.

However, her judgement hadn’t been that much better than her mother or sister. In high school, she’d played the part of the class slut, hooking up with multiple men and having a long string of empty relationships. Most of that was her way of staying away from home, but it came at the price of attracting men who cared more about easy sex than genuine intimacy. Whether by bad luck or family tradition, Reyna and her family never seemed to cross paths with the kind of men who were worth loving.

“Guess that’s more my fault than yours,” she said under her breath, lingering at the door as she checked her phone. “You were just looking to mend a broken heart. I was looking for easy money. Now, here I am…needing you as much as you need me.”

It was tragic, but oddly fitting. She’d gone most of her life knowing few good men. Then, she left home, got into a local college, and started making her own money as an escort with the goal of never having to rely on a man. Willie Mavin didn’t necessarily derail that goal, but he certainly complicated it and for all the right reasons.

As she knocked on the door, Reyna felt like needed to affirm those reasons. Having had so many poor influences on her, she had to cling to the few good ones she still had.

“Come in,” said the familiar voice from inside the room.

Smiling for the first time all week, Reyna entered the room and into her role. At that moment, she was no longer Reyna Stanly, the trashy young woman who made her living as a whore for men with no time for a mistress. She became Mandi, the affectionate young woman who reminded a lonely man of better times.

“Mandi,” said a tall, lanky, middle-aged figure sitting on the bed, “you’re as stunning as ever.”

“You’re too kind, Willie…way too kind,” she replied in a voice that blurred the lines between fantasy and reality.

Upon closing the door behind her, making sure to lock it and place the “do not disturb” tag on the handle, she set aside her purse and made her way to king size bed where her favorite client awaited her.

“I’ve missed you,” she told him, mixing the traditional script of an escort with honest sentiment. “You make the first Thursday of every month something I look forward to.”

“So do you,” said Willie as he gazed at her with that loving admiration.

“This past month has been especially tough. I need this as much as you do.”

“I believe you.”

She’d heard that from men before, pretending they could empathize with her plight. She rarely believed it, especially from clients. However, Reyna made an exception for Willie.

She also made an exception when it came to embracing a client. She didn’t just stand in front of him, posing like a model in hopes of tempting him into paying for another hour. She immediately joined him on the bed, slipping into his arms and sitting on his lap. She barely even noticed the empty envelope containing her payment on the nightstand. Willie never short-changed her or abused her trust. Very few men in her life could make such a claim.

“You seem tense, Mandi,” he said as he slipped an arm around her waist and caressed her face. “Is everything alright?”

“It is now,” Reyna replied with a reassuring smile. “Try not to worry about me. I’m here for you, remember?”

“You make that difficult to forget,” Willie said as he smiled back.

“Then, I must be doing my part exceptionally well.”

“You do more than that, Mandi…much more.”

He embraced her closer, holding her as he would a cherished lover. He was so affectionate and tender, kissing her neck and taking in her scent, which she’d augmented with her best perfume. It was enough to get her heart racing as she returned his affection, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him deeper into her intimate warmth.

Reyna knew how it must have looked from an outside perspective. Anyone observing them at that moment wouldn’t have seen anything other than a tall, slender man in his late 40s with graying hair holding a young female escort in her early 20s. It had all the qualities of a typical encounter between a sex worker and an older man. She wouldn’t have blamed anyone for seeing it as anything other than some guy wanting to get frisky with a cute young woman.

However, there was much more at work than a man willing to pay for sex and a woman willing to accept money for it. Some of it showed in the clothes he wore. Like her, Willie wore the attire that evoked his fondest memories. That included a neatly-pressed dress shirt with military emblems, a clip-on tie, and navy-blue slacks that had just been dry cleaned the other day. It gave him the presence of a man who knew how to take care of himself and valued how he presented himself to others.

He’d learned that skill in the military and still carried himself like an honorable, disciplined soldier. That kind of ability and self-respect did plenty to set Willie apart, but those were just the most obvious qualities she admired. The rest ran much deeper.

“This week has been especially lonely,” Willie said after he finished kissing er. “It would’ve been our wedding anniversary on Monday. My son tried to visit so we could spend some time together, but his flight got cancelled.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Reyna said. “I hope he makes it up to you.”

“He will. He’s a good young man, just like his brother. I’m not worried about him. I’m just focused on you…on us.”

“And I intend to do nothing less.”

True to her word, a trait any competent escort valued, Reyna dove deeper into her role. Caressing his unshaven face with both hands, she kissed him with a soft, but sensual passion on the lips.

It was not the kind of kiss she shared with other clients. It was genuine and loving, akin to something a dear lover would give to someone who they’d missed. Almost immediately, it had an impact. She sensed his tension settle. The rugged, manly musk of her breath helped her settle too.

“My darling, Mandi,” Willie gasped with an intensity few men dared to show, even with an escort.

Her heart skipped a beat. She still wasn’t used to that, especially with a client. Reyna wasn’t sure she wanted to get used to it. The way Willie held her and the way he kissed her triggered something in her that she didn’t think she could feel for a man, even before she became an escort.

As the kiss deepened, those feelings intensified. Before long, a kiss was no longer sufficient.

“Willie…sweetheart,” Reyna said, now deep into her Mandi persona.

“Yes, Mandi?” he replied, already breathless.

With a coy grin and the taste of his lips still lingering, she broke the embrace and turned around so that he could see the back of her dress.

“Would you please unzip me?” she asked him. “This dress feels so…burdensome.”

“Of course, my dear,” Willie replied without hesitation.

Like a gentleman, he did as she requested, unzipping her dress with the utmost care. He wasn’t like some horny guy eager to get a girl naked. He was so careful, highlighting every inch of newly exposed flesh.

Once he reached the bottom of the dress, she stood up and let it fall off her body. In doing so, Reyna revealed she hadn’t been wearing a bra. Upon stepping out of her dress, kicking off her heels in the process, the only article of clothing she had left was a pair of black lace panties. When she turned around, giving him a perfect view of her feminine features, the awe in his eyes was profound.

“Wow,” said Willie in a daze. “You’re as beautiful as I remember…a sight I never get tired of.”

Reyna just smiled curtly as he gazed upon her, leaning back on his arms and taking in every feature. He’d seen her naked many times before, but she knew Willie wasn’t just referring to her natural beauty when he saw her voluptuous form. In his eyes, he wasn’t looking at Mandi, the escort he paid for a night of intimate company. He was looking at Mandi, his deceased wife.

“I miss you…so much,” he said with a hint of sorrow in his tone.

“Oh Willie,” she said, “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

That was only half-true. She knew she wasn’t Amanda, the woman he’d married right out of high school and loved with all his heart until she succumbed to cancer. He had to know that too, but it didn’t matter at that moment. As far as they were both concerned, the harsh reality of their respective lives didn’t apply within the walls of the hotel suite. For just a brief moment, they could enjoy a quiet moment of intimacy.

“You’re here,” Willie said, tears already forming in his eyes. “God, I want you.”

“I want you too, Willie,” she told him.

Her role made room for her skills as an escort. With a seductive poise that she’d refined from her promiscuous past, she slipped back onto his lap, straddling his waist and grinding her groin up against his pelvis. That got the blood flowing to the lower half of his body. It also prompted a flood of amorous affection.

“My sweet, Mandi,” he gasped. “My sweet, beautiful Mandi.”

It was tough to maintain that seductive mood when he was so loving with his gestures. Willie was always more tender than most of her clients, but there was something different about the way he touched her exposed upper body. He playfully fondled her breasts, buried his face in her neck, and traced his fingers down her waist and hips, as if to paint an image in his mind.

“Mandi…I see you,” Willie gasped as he kissed her.

“So do I,” she whispered into his ear.

The foreplay quickly intensified. As Willie felt around her exposed upper body, she began loosening his clothes, removing his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt. It played out like so many other encounters she’d experienced with clients, but there was deeper story unfolding between them.

Reyna had come to know the details of that story well. Since he became a regular, she’d learned a great deal about the role she played. Amanda Mavin, the woman Willie saw whenever they were together, was a very different woman than the one she’d become. She wasn’t just a loving mother and supportive wife. She’d been a gifted artist, a college professor, and an adventurous traveler.

Willie claimed she saw the world as a work of art worth admiring and exploring. She’d taken him to so many wonderful places, sharing so many passions along the way. After serving in the army, spending time in war zones and seeing so many awful things, he needed that. She helped him see and experience beauty in the world again.

When Willie first told her about Amanda, she laughed at the notion that she had anything in common with her. She doubted they even looked alike. Then, he showed her some old pictures and the resemblance was undeniable. When he told her about the kind of spirit she had and how she’d overcome a less-than-ideal upbringing, Reyna saw more and more similarities. It made the intimate experiences they shared more meaningful.

For Willie, it was a way to reconnect with the memory of a woman he loved and missed dearly. For Reyna, it started as her providing comfort and sex to a lonely widower. It soon became as therapeutic for her as it was for him. After the week she’d endured, she needed that therapy more than usual.

“Willie,” Reyna said in the midst of all the affectionate touching, “lie down on your back.”

“Of course, my darling,” he said in that deep, loving tone of his.

Having rekindled old memories and the passions connected to them, she pursued the escalating desire. After guiding him towards the center of the bed, he laid down and kicked off his dress shoes, allowing her to go to work.

She channeled more of Mandi’s spirit, removing his dress shirt, undoing his belt, and taking off his slacks. She took her time, kissing down his chest and pawing his arms. He once told her that Mandi treated lovemaking like a work of art, requiring exquisite detail and impassioned vision. Reyna never saw sex in such a colorful way, but she quickly came to appreciate that approach. Upon removing the widowers underwear, she saw how much Willie appreciated it as well

“Wow! You did miss me, Willie,” Reyna said coyly while eying his semi-erect manhood.

“What can I say? Certain parts of the human body say more than words ever well,” Willie said with a playful grin.

She smiled back at him before channeling more of that sexy spirit. She briefly hovered over him, allowing him to admire her body even more. She even dangled her breasts in his face, something he once said Amanda loved to do during intimate moments. He also once mentioned she loved it even more when she gave his penis a quick lick to prepare for their sex. With most men, Reyna would’ve assumed that was just a creative way to get oral sex. With Willie, she trusted his word.

Like a sexy angel, she lovingly kissed his lips before sensually working her way down his body. Willie kept in great shape for a man his age. All the work and travel he did with his late wife really paid off. That extended to his penis, which was already throbbing by the time she reached it.

With skilled hands and talented lips, she gave the widower a quick round of oral teasing. She was more careful than usual, sucking and stroking his member while looking up at him with affectionate eyes. It evoked a familiar, yet rewarding reaction.

“Oh Mandi…my love,” Willie moaned.

She replied with more sucking, bobbing her head up and down, making full use of her oral sex skills. Seeing the older man so happy and impassioned was a nice personal bonus and one she didn’t get with most clients. It motivated her to share in the feeling, as well. As she sucked him off, she reached into her panties and fingered herself, building up her own arousal.

As soon as she got him fully hard, she rose up from the bed and removed her panties. She also retrieved a condom that she’d stashed inside, a trick that only the savvy, most cunning escorts could pull off. After opening it and applying it to his rigid manhood, they were ready to complete the moment that they’d both come to appreciate.

“I’m ready for you, Willie,” Reyna said to him as she got back on top of him.

“Please, Mandi…I need you,” Willie said, reaching up and caressing her face.

It almost was sad, hearing the longing in his voice. She saw in his eyes how much he wanted to cling to the memory of his late wife. Even if she wasn’t that woman, he yearned to turn those joyous memories into an experience…one she could share with him.

Eager to share something so loving and intimate, Reyna positioned herself over him, straddling his waist and holding onto his torso. She locked her eyes on his, doing her best to mimic the loving gaze his wife must have given him for so many years. Then, as he slipped deeper into his memories, she lowered her hips and guided his manly flesh into her.

“Ooh Willie!” Reyna moaned out.

She was more vocal than usual, but for all the right reasons. The way he filled her depths, her womanly folds embracing his rigid manhood to the utmost, filled her with more than just the familiar sensations of sex. It turned an act of basic sexual intercourse into a truly intimate act.

“Mandi…my sweet, sweet Mandi,” Willie said joyously.

“I feel you, Willie…so deep inside me,” she gasped.

Now lost with him in the feeling and the fantasy, Reyna began moving her body in a succession of slow, sensual motions. They didn’t rock the bed or strain their bodies with their sex. There was none of that crude, mindless humping that she’d experienced so common with other clients. She put real, genuine passion into their sex.

“I need this…you need this…we need this,” Reyna found herself saying in the midst of their movements.

Having established a steady rhythm, she leaned in and kissed him lovingly, allowing their naked bodies to fully mesh. The widower returned the favor, throwing his arms around her and grabbing hold of her butt, something she’d always loved during sex. It allowed him to supplement her sensual movements with his strength, evoking more blissful sensations and deepening the intimacy.

That was a big part of what made Willie her favorite client. He made their sex – the same sex that she once treated as a simple means to an end – a truly intimate act. She thought she knew intimacy from her previous boyfriends. In serving Willie, she realized those experiences were just lust, hormones, and the pursuit of meaningless pleasure. There was nothing meaningless about what she did with Willie. It might have been the most meaningful part of her otherwise hectic life.

“That’s it, Willie…make love to me,” she whispered to him. “Make sweet, beautiful love to me.”

“I will, Mandi! I…I will!” he said eagerly.

He kissed her more passionately as she rode him with focused intent, working his rigid manhood within the moist depths of her inner domain. As he squeezed her butt, she reached down and fondled her swollen clit, wanting to share the pleasure with him. It further intensified the intimacy that they both so cherished.

As they embraced the feeling, Reyna also shared in the sensual efforts. She got a bit more playful at times, leaning back and swaying her body in a sexy dance, of sorts, that earned her a beaming smile from Willie. He did his part as well, gliding his hands over her naked flesh, making sure to give her nipples some extra attention, knowing how much she loved it.

Each movement and gesture had a purpose.

Each intimate act took them closer to their goal.

Slowly, but surely, they ascended towards their respective climax.

As it drew near, Reyna shifted their bodies so that Willie was on top, working his hips with hers with energy not topical of a man his age. She held onto his shoulders, spread her legs extra wide, and locked her eyes with his once more, urging him to finish the experience.

“Oohhh I’m close, Willie! I’m so…so close!” she told him.

“Me too, Mandi! Me…too!” Willie said with labored grunts.

“Just…just a little longer. I want us…I need us…to share this.”

For a brief moment, Reyna broke character. It might have been the first time she’d ever blurred the line between the woman she was and the woman she pretended to be while escorting. It was something she’d been taught to avoid, entangling such sentimental feelings with sex work. It might have been risky, but in that moment, it felt so right.

“Mandi…my love,” the older man gasped as he neared the threshold.

“Willie,” was all she got out before following him into that world of ecstasy.

A few more shared bodily motions was all it took. When the feeling washed over them, time seemed to stop as the line between memories and roles vanished.

It wasn’t a simultaneous climax, but it was pretty damn close. Willie got his first, letting out a sharp gasp as his grip on her hips tightened in accord with his release. Feeling that hard, throbbing flesh inside her along with the heightened intimacy helped send her over the edge as well. While Reyna had gotten fairly adept at achieving orgasm with clients, she usually had to make a concerted effort. She didn’t need much when she was with Willie.

With him, the release came to her. His heartfelt sentiment took her to that special place where ecstasy took a tangible form, each sensation reverberating through her like a wave of heat. It caused her back to arch and her toes to curl, ruffling he bedsheets every step of the way. As always, she savored every minute sensation. Unlike every other orgasm she’d experienced as an escort, the one she shared with Willie left her feeling uniquely fulfilled.

“Willie…thank you,” Reyna said in the heat of the moment.

“Mandi…I miss you,” Willie said in his orgasmic daze.

She lingered in that daze with him, if only to escape a much harsher reality with him. She kissed him and embraced him again, even after he withdrew from her and laid down beside her. Their naked bodies remained entwined as the afterglow set in. Reyna already sensed the time he’d paid for running out, but she didn’t care. She didn’t even check the clock. Escort or not, she needed that special, intimate moment with him.

“Thank you,” the older man said, still catching his breath as he held her in his arms. “I know I make things awkward…mixing memories of my wife with what we do.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Reyna told him, daring to cuddle closer with her favorite client. “You loved her. You miss her. And based on all the times we’ve done this…I can tell you two were pretty passionate.”

“We were. It’s one of the many things I miss about her,” he said with a sigh, “but those intense, intimate moments we shared over the years…I miss those the most.”

“That’s how you know your love was real. Not everyone gets to experience that kind of love, let alone appreciate it. You wanting to relieve it, even its with an escort who just happens to look like her, isn’t the least bit awkward. It’s sweet.”

“I’m glad you appreciate it.”

“Believe me, Willie…I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”

 

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Daily Sexy Musing: Flowers And Roses

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As someone with a long and tortured history with allergies, I admit I’m not too fond of flowers and roses being symbols of romance. That said, I don’t outright resent it. I understand the appeal. I’ve even embraced it a time or two. It’s just hard to appreciate when romantic sentiment is mixed with itchy eyes and severe nasal congestion.

However, these are just some of the things we brave in the name of romance. Back in college, I remember picking up my girlfriend from the airport so we could spend our first Spring Break together. I was excited, nervous, and anxious for any number of reasons. In an effort to set the mood, I bought her some flowers and gave them to her she arrived.

Without getting too heavy into personal details, I’ll say those flowers definitely helped. To this day, that was one of my favorite Spring Breaks of all time. Flowers, roses, and all the colorful plants we associate with romance help convey a certain sentiment. There’s just something special about their beauty and their scent that puts us in the perfect romantic mood.

With spring upon us and summer fast approaching, flowers and roses of all types are in bloom. It’s still murder on my allergies, but it still sets a uniquely romantic mood that can get sexy real fast. That mood, and the romantic undertones behind it, is more than deserving of a Daily Sexy Musing. Enjoy!

There’s that smell, again.

There’s that distinct rich aroma, once more.

There’s that special feeling it evokes, so often.

For just a small fraction of a turbulent year, the changing seasons inspire natural passions. The cold, brutal nights are gone. Trees, grass, and animals awake to warmer days and fertile lands. Within that bountiful transition, fields of roses and flowers bloom. They signal to us that the time has come to emerge from our shelters and embrace a world reborn.

The sights of greener pastures and the sounds of lively fauna are joyous, but it’s that scent that hits first. We both feel the impact, as if jolted from a long slumber. In an instant, realize how much we’ve repressed and restrained ourselves. Now, it feels like nature itself is urging us to unleash our desires.

I pick up a flower.

I pick up a rose.

I inhale the sweet smell.

I present it to you.

No words need be said. The message is clear. Sweet smells, vibrant colors, and welcome warmth tell us everything we need to know. Gone are the layers of clothing that protected from the cold, but created a barrier between our flesh. With nothing to hinder us, we follow the meaning behind the scent.

It’s a fertile halo.

It’s an intimate symbol.

It’s a gift from nature.

It’s a key to greater passions.

Surrounded by warmth and scents, I take you as eagerly as you take me. Every pent-up desire comes pouring out. In a sea of flowery beauty and rosy scents, we light the spark that ignites our love. Sweet gasps mix with sweet smells. In a fertile new world, our spirits are renewed.

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