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Daily Sexy Musing: Ode To Sexy Art

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Art is one of those eclectic concepts that means so many things. For one person, it’s the ugly finger-paintings kids do in pre-school. For another, it’s a sculpture of Elvis made out of Ramen noodles. When it comes to sexy art, however, the ideas are a bit more concise. Like any other kink, it’s one of those things you know when you feel.

I may not be able to draw worth a damn, but I know plenty about using artistic skills to capture elements of sex appeal. I do it in my novels and in my sexy short stories. I’ve always had a way with words, using them to convey all sorts of colorful ideas, especially the sexy kind. That skill is even responsible for some of the serious romantic relationships I’ve had in my life.

While I utilize the written word, others tap different skills. Some are much better at it than others. You don’t have to look far to find art with overtly sexual imagery or undertones. Sometimes, it’s barely distinguishable from porn. Other times, though, it can be sexy in a wholly unique way. That’s the kind of art that leaves a hell of an impression.

The following Daily Sexy Musing is a celebration of the sexy side of art and the wondrous effects it has on all of us. It’s not always enough to just see someone else naked and let that be the sole manifestation of sensual imagery. There’s plenty of room for creativity of all kinds. I intend to do my part and I trust plenty of other skilled artists out there to do the same. Enjoy!

The world outside our window is so static and cold, changing only with the time of day and the direction of the winds. It is untouched by imagination, governed by strict rules that can neither be bent nor broken. Lacking color and passion, there’s room for so much more. It’s up to us to forge it.

I am your artist.

You are my canvas.

Our passion is the inspiration.

From it, imagination both loving and lurid roams free.

We coordinate in a process, one that requires tools and mediums to make our vision real. We assemble them in once place. On their own, they are nothing more than means to an end. As artists, we can control both.

Our minds explore boundless possibilities. From that treasure trove of thought, one goal emerges. We must turn our love from a powerful feeling into something tangible. Whether it’s a picture, a sculpture, or a sequence of words, the immaterial essence that is our love must become real. That, we believe, is art worth treasuring.

Maybe it’s a portrait, one that depicts our bodies entwined.

Maybe it’s a poem, one that describes our love through a tapestry of words.

Maybe it’s a symbol, one that we make our own and share with a passionless world.

There are so many choices, but only a few are fit for creation. Just thinking about it feels like an arduous journey in which the end is our own to forge. It’s overwhelming, but exciting. We don’t know where to begin or where it will end. That doesn’t matter, though. All that matters is the passion put into it.

From the whims of emotion and imagination, we decide on our path. In our minds, the perfect manifestation of our love appears as clear as the morning sun. Every detail becomes clear. Thought becomes vision. All that remains is to make it real through an artist’s hands.

Together, we craft something that will transcend our bodies and minds.

Together, we create a masterpiece that perfectly captures our love.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Ode Sexy Doctors

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

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

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

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

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

You heed my call.

You come to my aid.

You console my wounded state.

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

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

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

In that battle, you slay the beast.

Through that struggle, I am healed.

From my weakest moment, I regain my strength.

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

Even so, you healed me.

Even so, you comforted me.

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

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

You came to me when I was weak.

Now, I come to you when I’m strong.

Together, we celebrate our health.

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

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“Black Friday Bliss” A Sexy Short Story For Black Friday

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I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I certainly did. Don’t spend too much time digesting your desert because today is Black Friday. That’s right. It’s the unofficial start of the holiday shopping season, as though that didn’t begin the week before Halloween. As someone who loves to shop, I intend to take full advantage of it.

To get everyone in the spirit, here’s a sexy short story inspired by Black Friday shopping. Enjoy!

“Hey Tom! Are you nodding off on me again?” asked Allie Avinne from the passenger side of the car.

“What? No, of course not,” her husband, Tom Avinne quickly replied. “I was just resting my eyes, preparing myself for the big open.”

“Yeah, sure you were,” she said dryly.

“I’m serious! Hell, I’m still digesting Thanksgiving dinner. Even three cups of coffee can only go so far.”

“Lucky for you, it won’t have to.”

Allie playfully swatted her husband as he sat in the driver’s seat, looking like an athlete trying to psyche himself up for the championship game. He should’ve been used to it by now. Ever since she introduced him to her unique Black Friday tradition – one, ironically, that started with her first boyfriend in high school – he’d been dedicated to helping her keep it. She gave him plenty of incentive to do so, but it wasn’t without obstacles.

The clock on the dashboard read 4:30 in the morning. Most people were still asleep and/or hung over from Thanksgiving dinner. Less than 12 hours ago, she and Tom had enjoyed an eight-course meal, courtesy of her mother and grandmother. Allie was still digesting it, so much so that she could still taste her mother’s pumpkin pie on her breath. It made falling asleep easy that night easy, but waking up much harder.

On top of that, Tom wasn’t a morning person. In fact, he admitted on their first date that getting out of bed before sunrise for him was akin to running a mile with bricks strapped to his legs. That was partly why he worked erratic hours at the consulting company that his father co-founded. For 364 days of the year, she respected and accommodated those quirks. On Black Friday, though, she needed him to make an exception.

Just getting him up a half-hour ago had been a chore. Allie could tell he was still drowsy, despite having downed plenty of coffee. It wouldn’t be much longer, though. She also intended to reward him, true to her tradition.

“I know I say this every year, but thank you for doing this, Tom,” Ally told him in a more serious tone.

“You’re my wife, Allie,” he replied. “When I said ‘I do,’ I meant it…even if it meant waking up at some ungodly hour to sit in a parking garage this early.”

“It’s not just that,” she went on. “Since we got together – and even a little before that – I’ve made a big deal about keeping my life stable. I sure as hell don’t make it easy on myself or others. I haven’t since my dad died.”

“Yeah, that tends to affect the value of stability, especially when it happens to a kid.”

“Well, I’m not a kid anymore. I had to grow up faster than most after that. For years, everything was so erratic and unpredictable. Any bit of stability I could find became that much more precious. And this one – this crazy little thing I do on Black Friday, of all days – is one of those traditions that means more than most.”

To help reinforce her point, she undid her seatbelt and crawled over into the driver’s seat so that she straddled her husband’s lap. It wasn’t easy in the confined space of a mid-sized sedan, but Allie had become an expert at navigating such spaces over the year. By being in more intimate contact with her husband, especially with her pelvis pressing against his, it also helped raise Tom’s overall alertness.

As she hovered over him, the seat partially reclined so that he could lay back, Allie affectionately wrapped her arms around his neck. The drowsiness in his eyes quickly faded as his hands found their way to her hips. It triggered an instinctual reaction in both of them. From it, an important part of her Black Friday tradition started to manifest.

“My father might not have been a huge traditionalist, but he taught me the value of being proactive, especially around the holidays,” Allie said. “He always said getting out ahead of the curve often came with added bonuses.”

“Smart guy,” Tom said, his hand drifting down to her butt. “Bonuses are good.”

“That’s why he always took me shopping the day after Thanksgiving. We’d go bright and early, making sure we got all our Christmas shopping done by that afternoon. That way, we could enjoy the rest of the holidays.”

“I’ve heard this story before, but somehow it always gives me a boner.”

“I can feel that,” she teased. “The same year he died, I had to really coax my boyfriend into take me shopping on Black Friday.”

“And you didn’t make him wake up at the crack of dawn.”

“You’re right, but he still needed some extra incentive,” Allie continued. “Lucky for him – and my future husband, for that matter – I was young, horny, and in need of some holiday spirit. I like to think that from that day forward, I forged my own little tradition…one that I came to treasure even more after I met you.”

Her tone shifted from serious to seductive. They were coming up on that important half-hour between when they parked their car at the Central Plaza Mall and when the doors opened. It was in that special timeframe when tradition and passion converged.

“I know. I treasure it too,” Tom said, his voice matching her intensity, “even if it means dragging myself out of bed way earlier than usual.”

“Which makes providing that incentive I mentioned that much more important,” she said, “and in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve got a little time to kill.”

“Trust me, Allie. I noticed.”

As if to convince her that he was fully alert, Tom kissed her lovingly on the lips. Already restless with the holiday spirit, among other feelings, Allie kissed back and deepened their embrace. She slipped her hands under his jacket. He responded by squeezing her butt, something that sent warm shivers coursing through her body. It was enough to ignite a spark within the early-morning cold.

Before long, she and her husband were making out in the confines of the driver’s seat. The tradition had officially commenced. The setting was already perfect. It was still pitch-black out. As always, she and Tom made it a point to park in the corner of the parking garage near the top level, which was largely vacant. Anyone else arriving at the mall early parked close, getting those prime spots before rush hour traffic came pouring in. It gave them just enough privacy to do what they needed to do.

Making use of the dark and their spot, things quickly got heated. Tom put more tongue into his kissing. He also felt up her body, slipping his hand under her jacket and shirt to feel her skin underneath. Despite the cold, it made her feel so hot. Already, her inner thighs felt moist with arousal. She could feel the bulge in her husband’s pants growing harder by the second.

“Oh Allie,” Tom gasped, his arousal echoing in his voice.

“Mmm…you’re definitely alert now,” Allie said seductively. “Enough to take this to the back seat?”

“Definitely!” he said without hesitation.

Like a couple of horny teenagers – ironic, since the tradition started when she was a horny teenager – they climbed into the backseat of the car. It was a challenge, but Allie once again proved she’d mastered that part of the tradition. Between the spirit of Black Friday and just being really horny, they were as alert as anyone could be before sunrise.

Once in the back seat together, they began taking off their clothes. Tom had already set his jacket aside and undid his belt buckle. Allie just removed her jacket and began undoing her jeans. Even with her experience, it proved difficult.

“Off! Help me get this off!” Allie urged.

Her husband gladly obliged, grabbing the hem of her pants and pulling them down her legs, removing her boots in the process. Now in her panties, shirt, and bra, she returned the favor by helping Tom out of his pants as well, pulling them down his legs along with his boxers, allowing his erect manhood to pop free.

“Looks like part of you has been awake for quite a while,” she teased.

“Speak for yourself,” Tom quipped.

After kicking off his pants, he pulled her back into an embrace, kissing her passionately and letting their lower bodies become entwined once more. As they their lips twirled, he grabbed the side of her panties and removed them. Allie adjusted her hips accordingly and once they were off, she spread her legs and welcomed him into her intimate grasp.

Now pinned on her back and naked from the waist down, Tom hovered over her and stepped up the heated make-out session they’d begun in the front seat. Hands continued to roam and bare skin rubbed up against bare skin. Their shirts remained on and while Allie had intended to remove it, time was a factor.

“Come, my love,” she said. “Take me…right here.”

“At this hour…on Black Friday…in a parking lot,” Tom said. “Damn, I love you!”

Grinning with joy that would make Santa Clause envious, her loving husband did as she requested. True to tradition and desire, he grabbed hold of her hips and entered her with a focused thrust of the hips. That powerful feeling of hard manly flesh merging with wet feminine flesh filled her hot sensations. Beyond the intimate bliss that often came with their sex, the extra heat perfectly countered the early-morning cold.

“Oohhh Tom!” Allie purred.

He was more than alert at that point. He might have been more alert than anyone in that time zone. Whether it was due to passion or the coffee kicking in, Tom made love to her with a vigor usually reserved for their most passionate moments.

He was thorough and focused, like a man on a mission who just happened to have a big holiday meal to burn off. He rocked her world – and the car, for that matter – as he worked his body against hers in a procession of rhythmic movements. The wet smacking sound of their flesh colliding filled the car, along with the grunts and moans of bliss. Tom buried his face in her neck to muffle his grunts while she dug her nails into his neck, soaking in every sensation.

As he made love to her, his hands snuck up her shirt again, reaching under her bra and fondling her breasts. Tom knew her body well enough to know how much she liked having her breasts rubbed a certain way during sex. He always did that when he wanted to give her that extra push to the brink or orgasm. In the spirit of the holidays and her kinky Black Friday tradition, it worked even better than usual.

“Tom! Oh Tom! I…I’m coming!” she cried out.

“My early gift to you,” he whispered into her ear.

Even if Tom wasn’t a morning person, the man had a way with words. Allie swore those words, and the tone in which he said them, triggered an orgasm almost instantly.

It hit her in a rush that might as well have been a Christmas miracle. Her nails still dug into his neck, Allie curled her toes and threw her head back against the window as she climaxed hard. Inner muscles throbbed and tender flesh burned as ripples of pleasure coursed through her being. It was such a hot feeling and with the temperature well-below freezing outside, it was all the more satisfying.

“Mmm…Tom,” Allie said in a sexual daze. “You make Black Friday special!”

“For the woman I love, how can I not?” he said, already short of breath.

“And for the man I love, expect me to return the favor!”

Knowing the tradition wasn’t quite complete, Allie pulled him into another passionate kiss. Parts of her body were still reeling, burning with post-orgasmic bliss, but she didn’t wait for a full recovery. Her husband, who had to really strain himself to keep her favorite Black Friday tradition, just made love to her and gave her an orgasm before five in the morning. That kind of love and dedication deserved a reward.

His dick still hard and his passions still strong, Allie shifted their bodies so that he sat in the middle of the back seat with her straddling his waist again. Their flesh only parted briefly. Once her pelvis aligned with his member, she thrust her hips downward and drove his member back into her depths. From there, she began riding his cock with the same vigor he’d done with her.

“Oh Allie!” Tom grunted. “So hot…so tight!”

“That’s it, my love,” Allie said in a seductive tone. “Let me get you in the holiday spirit!”

In keeping with that effort, she lifted up her shirt while their bodies kept rocking. She then pushed her husband’s face right into her cleavage, allowing him to taste and savor her fleshy mounds that had been covered to that point.

He showed his appreciation, laughing and moaning in delight while holding onto her hips. With every gyration of her hips, he supplemented her movements with his powerful arms. Her folds slithered along his manly length with such ease. It kept the rhythm heated, as well as the car. It was so heated that parts of the windows fogged up. In such cold weather, that was quite an accomplishment and one Allie took pride in nearly every Black Friday.

Between the heat and her husband’s fondness of her breasts, she easily guided him to the brink of his own sexual peak. With a few thorough motions of her hips, she embraced him closer as he neared his own taste of holiday ecstasy.

“Ooh I’m coming, Allie! I’m going to…come!” he moaned, his voice mostly muffled by her breasts.

“Ture to tradition, my love,” Allie said with a beaming grin.

With her body and love, she carried him past the threshold. She felt it as his member throbbed and his grip on her intensified, the waves of his release surging through him as it had done with her moments earlier.

As he indulged in the spirit of the kinky tradition, their bodies stopped moving. The heat they’d created lingered, their mostly-naked bodies now glistening with a light sweat. It made for a powerful moment of passion, one Allie capped off with another affectionate embrace and a soft kiss.

They remained in that embrace until the ecstasy passed. Their flesh parted, but a light afterglow remained. As Allie caught her breath, she locked eyes with her husband once more. The sun wasn’t going to be up for a while, but he was totally awake.

“It’s official. We’re ready for Black Friday!” Tom said, now brimming with energy.

“Spoken like a man who appreciates my holiday traditions,” Allie said playfully.

“What can I say? A tradition that allow me to make love to my wife, get my Christmas shopping done, and burn off Thanksgiving dinner…that’s just too damn appealing.”

“Appealing enough to wake up at four in the morning once a year?”

“Definitely!” he said without hesitation. “Now, let’s get dressed and start shopping! We’re deep in the afterglow of the holiday spirit. Let’s make good use of it!”

 

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“A Thanksgiving Tradition” A Sexy Short Story

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First off, Happy Thanksgiving! I hope everyone out there has a safe, happy, and sexy holiday. In celebration, I wrote a sexy short story that I hope will help everyone work up an appetite in the best possible way. Enjoy!

“Are you hungry, Tanya?” asked Jeff Keniman.

“I’m starving,” replied Tanya, sounding as eager as anyone could on the day before Thanksgiving.

“Good,” he said, “because this is just an appetizer. And I need to make damn sure these sweet potatoes are perfect before your folks arrive tomorrow.”

“And you will. That, I promise you.”

It might have been the most redundant statement either of them could’ve said. He and Tanya had been together long enough to know the drill. She knew what day of the year it was. She’d come to know his unique “traditions” when it came to the holidays. Thanksgiving brought with it many traditions. However, it was the day before Thanksgiving that had one of his favorite traditions.

The stage was already set. He and Tanya spent the afternoon setting up the dining room, adding some extra tables to accommodate the dozen-or-so guests set to arrive tomorrow morning. They’d unpacked their nicest tablecloth, silverware, and dishes for the occasion. At the moment, though, the fancy stuff was piled up on a chair in the corner. Instead, the table lay bare, occupied by two plates and several bowls of food.

Technically, it was their dinner for the night and the last major meal they would have before Thanksgiving. However, Jeff didn’t plan on treating it like just another meal. True to the tradition that he and Tanya cherished, it was a special kind of appetizer.

“I’ve got the sweet potatoes here and the stuffing ready,” Jeff said as he stood on the other side of the table. “I’ve tweaked the amount of butter and pepper. I think you’ll taste the difference.”

“I hope so,” Tanya said, already sounding festive. “I’ve made some changes to my mashed potatoes recipe as well. I hope you enjoy it just as much.”

“Well, there’s only one way to be sure,” he teased.

“Correction…only one way that’ll make Thanksgiving more memorable!”

Jeff laughed. His wife had a quirky sense of humor. He’d been with other women before, but none who appreciated his holiday traditions as much as she did. If anything, she appreciated them even more.

With the food on the table, still fresh out of the oven, he and Tanya began the first step in their pre-holiday celebration. That involved taking off their clothes, underwear and all. Tanya couldn’t get naked fast enough, stripping out of the sweatpants and T-shirt she’d been wearing all afternoon. She didn’t even have a bra underneath. She’d clearly been looking forward to their special tradition. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

“These clothes had flour stains on them anyways,” she said curtly.

“That’s your excuse every year,” Jeff teased.

“Spoken like someone who know it’s his turn to do the laundry?”

“Did I say I minded?” he quipped.

As his wife kicked off her panties, Jeff slipped out of his jeans and shirt. He also set aside the apron he always wore when cooking fancy meals. He swore Tanya got turned on by it, but she’d never admitted it. She didn’t have to. Once free of clothing, he could tell from across the table that she was aroused. Her inner thighs made that abundantly clear. She was also hungry, a potent combination for any holiday.

Not one to keep an eager wife waiting, Jeff volunteered to go first. He picked up the bowl of sweet potatoes from the table and sat down at the chair located at the head of the table. His wife soon joined him.

“I made a little extra,” Jeff said, “but don’t gorge too much. You’ll want to save some room for tomorrow.”

“I know the drill, love,” she said. “Now, are you going to get on with it or do I have to do the heavy lifting.”

“Well, it does work better when we coordinate, so…”

Jeff didn’t need to finish. His wife had already decided that she was going to play an active role in their little tradition. He didn’t mind in the slightest. That usually worked out better for the both of them.

As he held the bowl of sweet potatoes in one hand, his very beautiful and very naked wife sat down on his lap, not avoiding it when her inner thighs made contact with his penis. That was enough to get the blood flowing in the right directions, but there would be time for that later. First and foremost, they had to test his new recipe.

“Say no more,” Tanya said playfully. “I’ll gladly help.”

“I hoped you would,” he said.

In the spirit of shared tradition, they each dipped their hand in the bowl of sweet potatoes and smeared large clumps of it on his chest. It was still piping hot. His skin burned slightly from the hot food touching his naked flesh, but he didn’t mind. If anything, it got his blood flowing even faster.

“It smells so good. It feels so good, too,” said Tanya as she smeared the potatoes over his nipples. “I hope that extends to the taste.”

“Well, by all means, my love…bon appetit,” said Jeff in his most seductive voice.

She was already drooling and not just because of the potatoes. He could see it in her eyes. She craved more than just the savory taste of his famous sweet potatoes.

Like a hungry animal unleashed, she buried her face in his chest, sloppily devouring the potatoes. The feeling of her tongue lapping up the buttery delight sent sensations of delight coursing through his body. Tanya had always been skilled in terms of using her tongue in intimate situations. That served her even well when delicious food was involved.

“Mmm…I take it you like the new recipe,” Jeff said as he smeared more on his chest.

“It’s delicious!” she exclaimed.

“Then, how about I have a taste?”

While Tanya made quick work of the potatoes on his chest, he gathered up one last handful and smeared it on her breasts. That evoked from her a squeal of the delight, the kind that he only heard during certain times of the year. True to the spirit of the holidays, that only made it more special.

“Ooh! Fresh out of the oven,” Tanya said.

“Just like I like it!” Jeff said.

Tanya, having had her share, rose up a bit in the chair so that her potato-covered breasts were right in his face. Usually, Jeff took a moment to admire his wife’s voluptuous mounds. Being more hungry than horny at the moment, he gladly made an exception.

Drawn in by both the smell of fresh sweet potatoes and his love’s ample breasts, Jeff dug in just as she had, lapping up the savory food while simultaneously tasting her naked flesh. It was as delicious as he’d hoped and in more ways than one. His sweet potatoes had turned out better than he’d hoped, but they tasted extra delicious off a beautiful woman’s breasts.

“Mmm! These are good!” Jeff said, his voice muffled by her breasts.

“I think you got the butter and pepper just right…so very right,” Tanya said, purring with delight as he gorged.

Those sexy purrs encouraged him even more. Jeff was extra thorough, licking and suckling every last bit of sweet potato off her breasts. He was extra thorough with her nipples, which had become very erect after plenty of licking. It evoked reactions beyond basic hunger. He could feel her lightly grinding her pelvis against his, getting his dick even harder. It helped his horniness catch up to his hunger, but not by much.

As Jeff finished his meal, she hugged him close so that his face was perfectly meshed within her fleshy mounds. Even after most of the potatoes were gone, her skin still tasted delicious. She was just as thorough, using her fingers to gather up what remained of the potatoes on his chest. Once it was all gone, they finally met in a messy kiss, the smell of buttery sweet potatoes on their breath.

“Your cooking skills never cease to amaze me, Jeff,” Tanya said.

“And I love how much that turns you on,” Jeff teased.

“It’s one of the many reasons I married you,” she said, “but I also happen to know what turns you on as well. And since I don’t want my mashed potatoes to get cold, what do you say we try those out next?”

“Do you honestly expect me to argue?”

“Nope! I just hope you appreciate how seriously I take holiday dining.”

The seductive undertone to her voice was beyond dispute. It so captivated Jeff that he barely moved from the chair when Tanya got up and climbed up onto the dining room table so that her legs dangled over the edge. She then reached for the bowl of mashed potatoes that she’d finished less than fifteen minutes ago. Once in hand, she leaned back on the table, gathered up a handful, and smothered it all over her inner thighs.

“Mashed potatoes and pussy,” Jeff said distantly. “That pretty damn serious.”

“Then, I hope you’re every bit as serious as testing my recipe,” she said.

Jeff instinctively licked his lips, already drooling at the prospect of tasting his wife’s cooking, among other things. He watched as she piled up a mound of mashed potatoes on her pussy, spreading her legs and making sure it covered the outer parts of her womanhood. He didn’t think it was possible for fresh potatoes to smell better. Every holiday, he was proven wrong.

“This is why I love the holidays,” he said with a grin.

Before Tanya could finish smearing all the potatoes, Jeff got up and knelt down so that his face was perfectly aligned with her inner thighs. He then grabbed hold of her inner thighs and pushed them apart, giving him a clear path to her potato-covered snatch. The line between hunger and arousal had officially vanished. Like an animal gorging on its favorite treat, he dug in and began eating his wife out, along with her tasty mashed potatoes.

“Oohhh!” Tanya moaned out. “Happy holidays, indeed!”

Basic table manners fell to the wayside.

Dinner etiquette disappeared.

Jeff, going against every rule his parents and grandparents ever taught him at a dinner table, dared to be sloppy and messy with his meal. He just licked, slithered, and gorged like a man in desperate need of both sustenance and sex. For once, two of life’s most powerful drives converged. It wasn’t physically possible to be more focused.

“So good!” he said, his voice muffled. “It tastes…so fucking good!”

“Mmm…my mashed potatoes or my pussy?” Tanya purred.

“Both!” he said without hesitation.

Jeff made sure to clear his proverbial plate, licking up every last bit of mashed potatoes that were in and around his wife’s pussy. He used his fingers at times, gathering up the traces while also stimulating her tender outer folds. For the most part, though, he used his tongue, licking and lapping his way around her womanly flesh. He could actually taste her feminine juices mixing with the potatoes. Between that and his wife’s special recipe, it was a hell of a treat.

By the time he licked it all up, Tanya was fully aroused. He even sensed her getting close to orgasm. The way her legs shifted and her inner muscles tensed made that abundantly clear. However, Jeff knew his wife wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. Tradition demanded they save the best parts for desert.

“I think you’ve had your fill, babe,” Tanya said, not hiding the extent of her arousal at that point.

“Says you,” Jeff said, looking up from her snatch.

“I’ve still got a little bit left,” she said, retrieving the bowl of mashed potatoes once more. “Mind if I finish it off?”

“Not at all, my darling!”

Sensing what she had in mind, Jeff gave his wife’s pussy one last lick to clear off the remnants of the potatoes. Then, he sat back down in the chair again and let his love work her magic.

She moved quickly, her arousal still motivating her every step of the way. The bowl of mashed potatoes still in her hand, she gathered what remained of it in her hand and smothered it over his genitalia, just as he’d done with her. He was still semi-hard, the act of dining on mashed potatoes and pussy doing plenty to get him going. However, achieving full arousal required his wife’s special touch.

“To think, I didn’t even enjoy cooking before we got together,” Tanya said, once again licking her lips in anticipation.

“Sometimes, you just need the right motivation,” Jeff said proudly.

“Lucky for me, I have a husband who knows how to motivate a woman in so many ways.”

Once again proving her fondness of tradition, Tanya got down on her knees and gorged on him as he’d done with her. She was just as thorough as he’d been, using her lips and tongue to lap up the potatoes around his penis. Along the way, she threw in her uncanny oral sex skills.

In addition to taking in large helpings of mashed potatoes, she took in the full length of his cock. As she’d done with his chest, she put her tongue to good use, licking and tasting his flesh every step of the way. It created a unique feeling of satisfaction, the act of feeding his wife while she orally pleasured him. She’d been good at oral teasing even before he introduced her to his holiday traditions. Giving her another outlet just added further spice to their marriage, as well as their diet.

“Oohhh Tanya!” Jeff moaned. “That’s it. Enjoy it. Lick it all up!”

He couldn’t tell if she’d heard him. She just kept sucking and slurping around his member, getting up every last bit of food. By the time she finished, his penis was fully erect. His arousal now matched her own. That meant they were ready for the final course.

“Mmm…I’m definitely saving that recipe,” Tanya said.

“Oh yeah,” Jeff said, “that’s a keeper.”

“Guess we’re set for potatoes,” she said. “Ready to test the stuffing?”

“Hell yes!” he replied without hesitation. “I’m so ready.”

That extra-confident tone of his sent the necessary signal. They were ready to complete the last – and, arguably, the best – part of their holiday tradition. It involved the special stuffing recipe he only made for the holidays, but with a kinky twist.

Still very hungry – and horny, for that matter – Tanya shot up from the floor and kissed him passionately. The taste of potatoes and dick was still on her lips. Jeff loved it, which further motivated him to finish the job.

“Turn around,” he said as soon as their lips parted.

Tanya responded with a simple grin before eagerly complying with his request. After doing so, he retrieved the last two bowls on the table, which were full of stuffing. Not caring about the wood, he poured it out on the table in front of where his wife stood. Then, grabbed her by the shoulder and bent her over so that her face was right in the pile.

“Bend over,” Jeff told her, “and eat!”

“Ooh! I love your stuffing,” she said, her mouth already half-full.

“And you’re about to love it even more!” he boasted.

As Tanya gorged on the stuffing, he poured the other bowl onto her back, just as he had her breasts and pussy. Then, with the aroma of the stuffing filling the dining room, he positioned himself behind her and aligned his member with her wet entrance. Instinctively, his love parted her thighs and held onto the sides of the table in anticipation. Their bodies now in synch, he thrust his hips forward and entered her.

“Mmm yes!” Tanya cried out, moaning as the stuffing covered her face.

“Dinner…is served,” Jeff proclaimed.

Their flesh now intimately entwined, he began working his manhood within her throbbing folds, establishing the heated sexual rhythm they’d come to love. At the same time, he leaned over and buried his face in her upper back, licking up and gorging on the delicious stuffing that was so distinct to the Thanksgiving holiday. The resulting sensations were as sensual as they were festive.

Together, they rocked the table with their naked bodies while also indulging their appetites. They ate and humped, fulfilling two basic needs at once. It was the best kind of multitasking, combined with a holiday spirit. The same dining room that would soon be filled by friends and family was thick with the musk of sex and Thanksgiving food. It was a unique ambience, but one he and Tanya created with their passion.

“Mmm…yes! Oohhh yes!” Tanya moaned. “So good…so tasty…ooh it’s gonna make me come!”

“Oh yeah…delicious!” Jeff grunted. “I’m about…to come…too!”

Just as the delights of food and sex converged, the inherent ecstasy that came with both quickly followed. Much to Jeff’s chagrin, Tanya climaxed first. She once boasted she could achieve orgasm with little effort during sex, but preferred having her partners earn it. He didn’t mind the challenge and Tanya always made it worthwhile.

“Ohhh Jeff!” she exclaimed.

“Tanya…” he gasped.

It echoed perfectly in the walls of their dining room, mixing with the smell of food and sex. He steadied the pace of his movements, enjoying the feel of her inner muscles throbbing around his member. That extra tightness helped push him beyond the brink as well. With only a slight trace of stuffing left on her back, he lapped it up with his tongue just as the feeling it.

In an instant, a flood of satisfying sensations surged through his body, adding to that warm feeling in his stomach that often came with good food. His member tensed and his manly fluids mixed with her feminine juices. He let out a deep grunt, not at all caring that his mouth was full of stuffing. One feeling perfectly compounded another, an intense sexual release combining with the joy of a satisfying meal with his wife.

When the dual feeling finally passed, he and his love let out a content gasp that filled the room. There was still traces of stuffing on the table and their faces. They had also worked up a light sweat in the confines of the dining room, adding to the unique blend of scents. By every measure, their effort to uphold their pre-Thanksgiving tradition was a success. It boded well for the festivities tomorrow.

After catching their breath, their bodies parted and Jeff sat back down in the chair. Tanya, deep in a post-orgasmic glow, turned around and sat on his lap again. They soon found themselves in a loving embrace, not caring that parts of their body were still messy with food, drool, and sex. Every family holiday had their own unique holiday traditions. Theirs just happened to be kinkier than most and Jeff wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Happy Thanksgiving, my love,” Tanya said as she playfully wiped the stuffing off his face.

“Happy Thanksgiving to you too, my beautiful kinky wife,” Jeff said with a beaming grin.

“I think I’ve officially worked up an appetite for tomorrow!”

“Me too,” he said proudly, “let’s just make sure we scrub the table in the morning. Our parents don’t have to know just how much we enjoy our little traditions.”

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“Veteran Vixens” A Sexy Short Story For Veteran’s Day

charisa-littlejohn

The following is a sexy short story I wrote in honor of Veteran’s Day. I have veterans in my family and I’ve come to know plenty throughout my life. They are special souls and this story is dedicated to them. Enjoy!

“Veterans Day,” said former army grunt Matthew Antos, “a day I guess I’m supposed to look forward to. I guess that also means I should be happy for all the parades, salutes, and PSAs. And yet…”

He let his words trail off as he gazed out the window of his Washington DC hotel, watching as parade streets were cordoned off in anticipation of the big parade that afternoon. In a few hours, he was scheduled to don his army uniform and march with his old unit down the street, waving to cheering crowds praising them for their service. That was the public spectacle of Veterans Day. In private, however, things weren’t always so honorable.

Matthew had debated whether he should even show up. He’d been discharged from the army three months ago after serving for three years. He’d spent time overseas, making his way through a number of war zones and living the rigid life of a military man. That meant playing by the rules, serving his country, and being a hardened soldier. He did all of that in hopes of achieving more, but he didn’t expect to lose so much along the way.

“What’s wrong with me?” Matthew asked himself. “I put in the time. I did my part. I came back in one piece, despite getting yelled at, shot at, and beaten up a few times. Why do I still feel so…numb to it all?”

He’d been asking himself that question since he got home. It had kept him up at night, so much so that he suffered frequent insomnia. It was almost easier when he’d been recovering from a shrapnel wound he endured a couple years ago. At least with that, he knew the cause of the discomfort. He knew how to tough it out. That was what soldiers did.

After coming home, nothing was that simple and it bugged the hell out of him. Ironically, he’d left his home initially because it was too simple. His parents didn’t have the money to send him to college, his grades hadn’t been that great, and he wasn’t able to get a scholarship. His uncle, a former marine, sold him on joining the military. Given all the benefits that came with dutiful service, it seemed like the best decision he could’ve made.

What his uncle didn’t tell him, however, was how hard it was to get back to civilian life once the guns stopped firing and the drill instructors stopped yelling. He also didn’t mention the price soldiers paid when serving. By being away, doing their duty, they couldn’t be there for friends, family, and loved ones. It was a tough price, but Matthew learned the hard way how hard it could be.

“Dale…Jenny…Reggie…Sybil,” he said.

Those were just some of the names of old friends who had died since he joined. They had been among those who waved goodbye and smiled when he left. Now, they were gone and he wasn’t even there for their funeral.

“Darren…Joey…Mac…Alvin,” Matt continued.

Those names were even harder to say. They were some of the fellow soldiers he’d met during his time in the service. He’d grown close to them. However, they weren’t going to be joining him on the parade. That was because they paid the ultimate price for their service. Some had wives, kids, and families. He didn’t and that just wasn’t fair on any level.

Recalling those names and the faces behind them were painful enough. However, in particular stung the most.

“Mom,” he said, his voice finally cracking.

Swallowing a hard lump of sorrow, Matthew turned away from the window and sat down at the foot of his bed. Swearing only a pair of dirty jeans, he buried his face in his hands as he tried to shut out the pain that hurt more than any shrapnel wound.

It was an unflattering act for a battle-hardened soldier, fighting off tears. Being a soldier meant holding them back, no matter how much it pained him. He’d been lying in a hospital bed, getting an IV drip when his commanding officer dropped by to give him the news. His mother had passed away after getting injured in a traffic accident.

There was nothing he could’ve done. There was no way to change it. Had he been there, he probably would’ve been in the car with her and died by her side. Instead, he’d been serving overseas, protecting his country while the life he’d built within it just fell apart without him. Everything just became so detached.

On one hand, he was held up as a good soldier so served his country honorable. On the other, he was a stranger in his own home town again. The people he loved were gone. The life he left behind was no more. He had no other skills beyond what the army had taught him. He’d never felt so alone before.

Even so, Matthew was expected to put on a strong face that afternoon and lead the parade. Even the trained soldier in him wasn’t sure he could pull it off.

“I’m supposed to be stronger than this,” Matt told himself. “Hell, this whole day is for vets like me! The whole country wants to thank me, but I still feel so goddamn alone.”

The former army grunt looked at his uniform, which he’d neatly folded on a chair. At some point, he was going to have to put it on. He was going to have to pretend that he felt so welcome and honored by the country he loved. He just wished he didn’t have to pretend.

As Matthew lamented over the conflict raging within, he heard a knock at his hotel door. The soldier in him reacted quickly. He didn’t remember calling one of his old squad mates or ordering room service. Curious, he got up and answered.

“Who’s there?” he called out.

“A proud volunteer for Veteran Vixens!” a female voice said from the other side.

“Veteran Vixens? What the hell is that?”

Curious, and a little annoyed, Matthew opened the door to see an unexpected sight. Standing right there in front of him was a beautiful young woman wearing camouflage pants, a tight-fitting green T-shirt, and black boots. At first, he thought she was one of the female soldiers set to attend the parade, but quickly ruled that out because she wore way too much makeup and did not stand like a trained soldier.

However, she definitely carried herself like someone on a mission.

“Hello former Private Matthew Antos,” the woman greeted. “My name is Angela Maxwell. I’m the proud daughter of a marine and a major supporter of Veteran Vixens.”

“Nice to meet you,” Matthew said, “but I’m still waiting to hear what that is and why you’re at my hotel room.”

“I’m here alongside other proud volunteers. You see, we at Veteran Vixens believe in honoring our nation’s veterans, especially in Veteran’s Day. However, we don’t believe that just throwing them a parade is sufficient. We feel our brave men in uniform deserve a more direct form of appreciation.”

The young woman’s voice took on a distinctly seductive tone. She then took a step closer, cast him a playful smile, and lightly pawed his exposed upper body. It caught Matt by surprise, but he didn’t object. If anything, her warm touch gave him some much-needed soothing. He might not have been a good student in high school, but he could already see where she was going.

“Well, soldier…mind if I come in?” Angela asked.

“Um…sure,” Matt said on instinct, his mind already racing.

He led her into his room. She then closed the door behind her, but not before putting the “do not disturb” tag on the knob. It left even less ambiguity behind her intentions, but that only raised more questions.

“Please tell me you’re not some elaborate prank from my squad,” Matt said. “I don’t think I can handle that crap on a day like this.”

“Relax,” Angela assured him, “they didn’t send me. However, one of your old officers told our organization that you were a veteran in need.”

“It can’t have been Sergeant Mixon. He’s the only officer who knows me well enough, but there’s no way the same hard-ass who made me do 100 push-ups at a time sent a beautiful woman to my hotel room on Veteran’s Day.”

“It was him,” she said curtly, “and when he told me what you’d been through the past few years, I jumped at the chance to thank you.”

“I’m still having a hard time believing that…or that this Veteran Vixens is even a thing.”

“I assure you it’s very real. It’s also exactly what you think it is…and then some.”

Her voice got even more seductive. Then, before they even left the foyer, she affectionately pulled him into a light embrace. It left Matt stunned and frozen in place, but in a good way. It had been a while since he’d experienced that kind of intimate touch. Having been living in barracks full of men for years, it was a nice change of pace, among other things.

As she embraced him, he saw a sexy, yet genuine intent in her eyes. It was like she could see the wounds and scars that were so unique to veterans. It helped convince him that she wasn’t just some pretty girl his squad mates had paid to mess with him. She was serious about helping a veteran in need and not just with a simple salute.

“We at Veteran Vixens have a simple philosophy,” Angela said while trailing her hand over the sinews of his chest. “An honorable soldier deserves more than basic platitudes on a day like this.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Matt pointed out.

“Except, we seek to provide something more intimate to show gratitude,” she went on. “Many of us are the daughters, sisters, cousins, and friends of such soldiers. As such, we have more incentive than most to offer that kind of gratitude.”

“And just what kind are we talking about here?” he asked, as though it weren’t obvious enough.

Angela grinned playfully. Then, just as her soft fingers had finished tracing over his chest, she broke the embrace and stepped back towards the bed. Once in the center of the room, the beautiful young woman stripped out of her clothes. She wasn’t casual about it, either. She took them off as though she were a stripper giving him a private show.

Matt, still frozen, remained in the foyer as he gazed in awe at the spectacle before him. That generic military garb she’d been wearing hid a very feminine, very sexy body. She hadn’t even been wearing a bra when she took off her shirt, her well-developed breasts tumbling out with ease. He couldn’t even tell if she’d been wearing panties, either. As soon as she slipped out of her camouflage pants, she stood completely naked.

He must have looked very undisciplined, especially for a soldier, gawking at a beautiful naked woman. Angela didn’t seem to mind, though. She even seemed to pose a little, making it so he had a perfect view of her breasts, legs, and hips. She made no effort to hide her beauty as she casually sat down on the bed and lightly spread her legs, revealing her unobstructed womanhood.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” Matt said in a daze, “and I’m not just saying that as a man who lived in an all-male barracks for over three years.”

“I’m sure you’re not,” Angela said with a snicker. “I’m also sure you and your fellow vets didn’t get many changes for friendly female company while serving.”

“That’s both accurate and necessary, to some extent.”

“Well, you’re not in a war zone anymore. You’re not on duty or in basic training. You’re a veteran on Veteran’s Day…one who happens to be alone and struggling.”

“Something else I’m sure Sergeant Mixon told you,” Matt said. “How much else did he tell you?”

“Enough to know you’ve had it rough since coming home. There’s only so much anyone can do to make it easier for a veteran, but pretty girls like me…girls who happen to have a thing for strapping young vets in need of comfort…we can do more than most.”

She then scooted back on the bed, leaning on one arm and while gesturing towards him with the other. It was not an act of temptation at that point. It was an invitation.

“Come,” Angela offered, “as a participant in Veteran Vixens, I offer myself too you completely. Consider me some well-earned, much-needed, all-American pussy on behalf of those who appreciate your service!”

“That sounds so crazy, but makes so much fucking sense,” Matt said.

“Then, what are you waiting for, soldier boy? Get those pants off so we can start appreciating!”

Soldiers trying to re-enter civilian life often faced an existential crisis whenever their time with the military ended. It often left them in a conflicted state and there weren’t many forces in the world that could jar them from it. A beautiful naked woman, offering unfretted sex, was one of the few.

At that moment, Matthew Antos remembered that he wasn’t just a former soldier trying to make sense of his post-military life. He was also a healthy young heterosexual man who had not been laid since his ex-girlfriend broke up with him during a video chat two years ago. His mind and spirit might be damaged, but his dick still worked.

“Fuck, that’s the best order I’ve gotten in years!” he said, finally cracking a smile for the first time in weeks.

With energy that would’ve crushed any basic training course, Matthew shed his pants and underwear. He didn’t bother hiding the scars from the shrapnel wound on his abdomen. He didn’t care that he hadn’t shaved in over a week, either. As far as he was concerned, the universe just threw him a life preserver. He had been close to just losing it and here was a beautiful woman who wanted to help him. Who was he to refuse?

“Looks like someone aced his training regime,” Angela commented, her eyes narrowing on his athletic frame.

“Being fit is just part of being capable,” Matt said as he eagerly climbed onto the bed with her.

“Is that something you guys say in the army?”

“No. It’s just basic logistics.”

As if to demonstrate those capabilities, Matthew got on top of the woman and wrapped her in his powerful arms. He then smothered her face, neck, and cleavage with his lips, tasting her womanly flesh as though it were his favorite desert. He wasn’t gentle or careful. He was a soldier. Neither a battlefield nor a beautiful woman intimidated him. He wasn’t just willing to embrace her. He was willing to take her fully, as only a veteran could.

“Oohhh! What a good soldier!” Angela cooed.

“That turn you on?” he said in an assertive, soldier-like tone. “Does a horny, restless vet make you wet?”

“Hell yeah!”

She could’ve just been saying that, but body language didn’t lie. The way she dug her nails into his shoulder and grinded her hips against his revealed the truth. She really was getting horny. Matt could already feel the heat radiating from her inner thighs.

Seeking to build his own arousal, the eager veteran continued making out with her. He kissed and caressed her naked body while she pawed his manly sinews. As their bodies became more acquainted, years of pent up sexual energy quickly caught up with him. His dick got fully erect faster than he thought possible. Either he was really that horny or he’d been that deprived of intimate contact.

Whatever the reason, he didn’t intend to linger. As much as he loved making out with a naked woman, he had a more pressing mission at hand. After thoroughly tasting her lips one last time, he rose up, grabbed hold her thighs, and hitched her legs over her shoulder.

“This is just the soldier in me,” he said, “but permission to enter.”

“Permission granted!” Angela said.

It was official. Veterans really did turn her on. Not one to deny a beautiful woman the soldier dick she loved, Matt aligned his member with her wet entrance and thrust into her. As soon as he felt that hot, tight flesh around his manhood, it was ecstasy in its rawest form.

“Ohhh yeah!” the hardened soldier moaned, “that feels…so good.”

“That’s it, soldier. Enjoy that hot pussy!” Angela purred.

Treating that as an order from his old drill sergeant, Matt proceed to vent years of pent up desire and frustration. He tightened his hold on her thighs, dug his feet and knees into the bed, and moved his hips in a steady procession of rhythmic thrusting. Through every motion, his rigid cock slithered in her tight folds. Hard masculine muscles meshed with smooth womanly curves. As their naked bodies rocked, more intimate ecstasy followed.

It was like diving into a pool after running a marathon through a desert.

It was like reconnecting with a feeling that had been blocked off by impenetrable barriers.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel so detached from the world. He was connecting with it again, literally and figuratively. His gaze never diverted from the woman under him, watching as she moaned and beamed with delight as he humped her. She already had the look of a soldier who’d just fulfilled a mission. For her, giving a distressed veteran sex was uniquely fulfilling. Something about that just felt right.

“Oh yes! Oohhh yes!” Angela moaned. “Like that! Fuck me like that!”

“You mean…like…this?” he grunted, thrusting extra hard while pushing her legs further apart.

“Yes! Fuck me like a true veteran! Make me come!”

She already sounded close to orgasm. Matthew stepped up the sexual rhythm, rocking her body and the bed even harder. She ended up being closer than he’d thought. She climaxed on the spot, curling her toes and throwing her head back as her inner muscles throbbed in accord with her release.

It was a beautiful sight, an all-American girl having an orgasm at the hands of him, an American veteran. Everything he fought and sacrificed for took a tangible form. It was also pretty audible as well. Angela was quite vocal in an orgasmic state.

“OHHH YES!”

Matthew grinned at the spectacle before him, slowing his motions for a moment to take it all in. However, he didn’t linger for long. He remembered he wanted a release as well. While Angela bathed in her euphoric state, he dug his feet and knees into the bed even harder as he pushed towards his own release.

“Angela…I’m close too!” he grunted. “I’m going to…come!”

“Go on, soldier,” she purred. “Fill me with that veteran cum.”

Not needing an order for once, Matt delivered the last round of humps to send him over the edge. When the feeling hit, it wasn’t just an overdue sexual release. It was like an old burden crumbling to dust around him, replaced with unhindered ecstasy and bliss.

Battle hardened muscles tensed.

Skin that had been dirtied by battle burned hot with desire.

Body parts that had not been used much lately went into overdrive.

Under the refreshing wave of his release, the hardened soldier let out a moan of contentment as he achieved orgasm. Throbbing flesh met with throbbing flesh as his manly juices mixed with hers. Pleasure, relief, and intimate connection became real and tangible. That lonely, distant feeling that plagued him early suddenly didn’t seem so pressing.

“You’re a damn good soldier,” said Angela, still beaming with post-orgasmic delight, “a damn good soldier, indeed.”

As Matthrew soaked in the feeling, she caressed his unshaven face and kissed him. Like a reflex, he kissed back. In the process, he withdrew his manhood from her and laid down next to her. He kept her naked body in his arms, the intimate contact still providing relief beyond that of a sexual release. She clung to him as well, pawing his chest as if to wipe away his distress.

As he laid with such a beautiful woman, Matt found himself recall the names of the people he’d lost and the world he’d lost since joining. The pain was still there, but there was now something else to counter it. Instead of agonizing over the past he’d missed, he looked towards a more promising future.

“I needed this…so bad,” Matt said, still breathless.

“I can tell.”

“I don’t think you understand the full story, Angela,” he said in a more serious tone. “Before you showed up, I was on the brink. I…wasn’t sure of my place in this world anymore. I’m a soldier. I served my country. I came home. And now…”

His words trailed off, still unable to fully process everything he’d agonized over since he returned home. Angela curled up closer to him, cupping his face with both hands and gazing into his eyes with the compassion of an angel.

“You feel lost,” she told him. “You’re a soldier. You worked, trained, and fought so hard that it’s part of who you are. Not being a soldier at this point…and everything else that comes with it…that’s a lot to deal with.”

“Sounds like you’re intimately familiar with men like me,” he pointed out.

“If you’re wondering whether I’ve had sex with other vets, then stop wondering. Every girl at Veteran Vixens has plenty of experience with veteran-brand pillow talk.”

“Sorry if mine sounds routine,” he said, “especially since I’m one of the lucky ones. I came back. Some of my squad mates didn’t.”

“That’s a big part of what makes being a veteran so overwhelming. You survived. You fought your battles and made it through. A part of you is still fighting, though. Sometimes, you need something to let you know it’s okay to stop…that it’s okay to reconnect.”

It made so much sense. Then again, a lot of crazy things made sense after having sex with a beautiful woman. Could it really that simple? Could the key to confronting the emptiness and uncertainty that had plagued him since he returned home be a simple matter of reconnecting? In that sense, random sex with a beautiful woman counted as a productive first step.

“Reconnect…yeah, I think I can do that,” Matt said with greater confidence. “Thanks for the memorable reminder, Angela.”

“That’s what we at Veteran Vixens do,” she said proudly. “It’s hard enough adapting to civilian life again. Nothing seems nearly as hard after getting laid.”

“Which is why it’s my new favorite veterans charity!”

“Good to hear,” she laughed.

Angela kissed him again, still keeping her naked body close to his. Matt eagerly returned the kiss. Embracing her felt like embracing the world again. It gave him renewed confidence and strength, which he planned to use for the parade later that afternoon.

He still had some time to prepare. Luckily for him, the kiss between him and Angela quickly turned into another make-out session. At some point, she rolled over on top of him while he rolled onto his back. The next thing Matt knew, he was looking up at a naked woman straddling his waist with a lustful, yet affectionate glint in her eyes.

“In keeping with the spirit of Veteran Vixens, I can stick around a bit longer if you want,” she said curtly.

“I’d like that,” Matt said while smiling back.

“I can also suck your dick, get you hard again, and then ride it hard until we come again.”

“I’d like that even more.”

“Great!” she said, already sounding excited. “Because when it comes to honoring our troops on Veterans Day, we at Veteran Vixens like to go the extra mile!”

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“Roughly Forbidden” A Sexy Short Story

rough-sex

The following is a sexy short story I wrote about sexual taboos and the kind that may emerge in the future. Given how much I write about gender politics, this is something I contemplate more than most. It can be depressing, but it can also inspire sexy stories. This is just one of them. Enjoy!

“I like it rough.”

There was once a time when a woman could say those words with a straight face and nobody would think much of it. They might see her as kinky tastes, but she wouldn’t be ridiculed for it. However, those days were long gone and Jessica Jermaine was too young to remember them.

At 28-years-old, she lived in a very different world. Everyone was so careful. Every intimate act, sexual or otherwise, was carried out with a level of vigilance that felt so comical in principle, but no one dared laugh. One wrong move became a single act of recklessness. A single act brought accusations. Accusations brought condemnation. Not all of it was of the legal variety, but it was sufficient to keep everyone on their toes.

“I shouldn’t have to do this,” Jessica said to herself as she sat anxiously at the foot of her hotel bed, “but that’s the world we live in. I don’t like it, but it’s too late to change it.”

She sighed to herself as she waited intently, the digital clock on the hotel dresser moving painfully slow. She wasn’t supposed to feel so tense. Jessica was on an overdue vacation, one her co-workers at the law firm she worked at urged her to take. She didn’t deny that she’d been extra uptight lately, but even her closest friends didn’t realize why she felt that way.

Looking away from the clock briefly, she glanced towards the mirror next to the kitchen sink. On the surface, Jessica had no reason to be miserable. She was a beautiful young woman, blessed with the same fit, feminine frame that her mother and two older sisters had. One of her college roommates once told her she had the looks that opened more options than most. She could set higher standards than most in pursuing love, sex, and everything in between.

Jessica had done plenty of that. As soon as she began filling out bras in high school, she basically had her pick of love interests. She could just walk up to a guy, start talking about random topics, and within a half-hour, she had him wrapped around her finger with little effort. She got to lose her virginity to one of the stars on her school’s basketball team. She even got to sleep up with his best friend and teammate afterwards when she got bored of him. That destroyed their friendship, but they were the ones who got the scorn instead of her.

“You thought you could get everything you want because of your looks,” Jessica said to her reflection. “You didn’t think you’d ever have to pay the price. I can’t believe how wrong you were.”

She scolded her reflection while recalling how her reckless behavior played out. She continued that decadent streak into college, going through men the same way some people went through pairs of shoes. Over time, though, Jessica came to regret how many hearts she broke and how easy she got away with her behavior. Whenever she did something wrong or selfish in her relationship, she rarely got blamed for it. Only the men she dated got blamed.

If she cheated on them, it was their fault because they didn’t satisfy her.

If she lied to them, it was their fault because they made it so she had to lie.

If she broke up with them for bad reasons, it was their fault because they were lucky to be with someone like her in the first place.

There was literally nothing they could do to villainize her. At the end of the day, Jessica Jermaine was still a beautiful young woman who had every possible option. Moreover, she needed those options because her looks made her a target. Being the object of every straight man’s lurid desires, she needed extra leeway. It was the only way she could be safe.

That was the over-arching assumption. Nobody said it out loud, but that was how society managed beautiful women who could rouse a man’s passions just by looking at him. It wasn’t fair. Even Jessica couldn’t deny that. Things had a way of balancing themselves out, though. Given all the benefit she’d enjoyed since puberty, though, it almost felt like a punishment.

“Fuck, I’m so horny,” Jessica groaned as she looked back towards the clock. “Why does being wrong have to be this frustrating?”

She shifted her legs uncomfortably, trying to ignore the blaring signals her body kept giving her. It was one of the worst parts of her punishment, but the most fitting in the grand scheme of things. She liked rough sex. She liked it so much that it was one of the only ways she could regularly climax. Unfortunately for her, getting rough sex meant jumping through some frustrating hoops that didn’t used to be there.

As Jessica lamented those barriers, she heard a knock at the door. Almost immediately, she shot up from the bed and rushed over to answer. Her legs were already weak, her every fiber aching with desire. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

“Are you Devin?” Jessica asked through the door.

“Yes,” a deep, masculine voice replied.

“Okay, I’m opening the door now.”

Jessica took a deep breath, ready to endure the most awkward part of the elaborate ordeal she’d set up. She unlocked the door and opened it, stepping aside and covering her eyes in the process. The man she knew only as Devin entered, closing the door behind her and locking it quickly. She could hear him being extra-thorough, using both the lock and the latch to secure the door.

“Please make sure you’re looking away,” he told her. “For my safety, please put your hands over your eyes.”

“Don’t worry. I know the drill,” she replied.

That was being generous. Jessica knew the procedure a bit too well. The hardest part was already behind them, having organized a meeting through a secure chatroom and a screening service. The second hardest part was maintaining anonymity. That helped ensure her safety, but it was mostly for Devin and men like him.

As she stood in the foyer, closing her eyes and looking away, she already knew what Devin was doing. He took off his coat, hat, and sunglasses, which most men in his line of work had to wear while on business. He might have been wearing a wig, as well, for all she knew. It was all for a reason, though.

Jessica couldn’t afford to see his face and neither could he. That was the only way to ensure they both had the necessary leverage. The fact it took such an elaborate procedure said a lot about their respective circumstances.

“You can open your eyes, now. I’m ready, Jessica,” Devin said.

The young woman opened her eyes and turned around. Much to her relief, she saw only as much of the man that she needed to see.

Standing before her in her mid-level hotel was a masked man in blue jeans and a red T-shirt. He had a tall, imposing stature as well, standing over six feet tall and bearing the kind of broad shoulders that reminded her of the athletes she’d dated in high school. He might have even been a former athlete, but she didn’t dare pry into his story. The less she knew about him the better. That was just part of why he wore a mask that covered everything except his eyes, nose, and mouth.

“Thank you for meeting me tonight,” she told him. “I really need this.”

“Yeah, you made that abundantly clear in the chat room,” Devin replied. “You claimed that no women has ever needed an ‘extensive massage’ as much as you.”

“And I stand by that claim. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”

“I guess we will.”

He almost sounded skeptical, but Jessica looked back at him with serious eyes. She made it clear to him that she’d meant what she said when she answered his ad. She also knew the unique jargon of his chosen industry. An ‘extensive massage’ was only half-accurate, at best. What it truly entailed often brought out too many mixed feelings, especially among other women like her.

“Everything is set,” Jessica said. “Your donation is on the table.”

“Mind if I check it, first?” Devin asked, sounding as serious as her.

“Go ahead,” she told him. “I’ll wait on the bed.”

“No. Wait right there,” he said. “If you really meant what you said, then it’ll work best if we do things my way.”

He spoke with such a stern, authoritative tone, the kind that most men were too afraid or too careful to use anymore. It was so forceful and direct. Jessica’s inner thighs moistened on the spot, her pants feeling unbearable at that point. Still, she remained patient.

She watched with anxious anticipation as the masked man walked over to the kitchen table and checked the unmarked envelope she’d laid out. Inside, it contained money and a slip of paper containing a QR code. That code was for anonymous digital currency that made up the bulk of her donation for his services. He took out his phone to check it. Once certain that it was good, he smiled to himself and turned back towards her.

“Everything looks good,” Devin told her. “I’m ready to begin.”

“So am I,” Jessica said, not hiding her desperation.

“We’ll see about that.”

Then, like a hardened prisoner breaking free of his, the imposing man stormed over to her, grabbed her by the neck, and forced her up against the wall next to the bed. Suddenly, she went from having all the leverage in the world to having none whatsoever. At that moment, she was at the mercy of a powerful, masked man.

“From here on out,” he told her, his tone deep and menacing, “I’m going to fuck you. I won’t be gentle. I won’t be careful, either. I’m going to be as reckless and rough with you as I damn well please!”

“Yes! I…want that,” Jessica gasped.

“Shut up!” Devin barked.

He slammed his fist on the wall next to her head, evoking as much fear as it did arousal. Even with his hand around her neck, she felt the arousal between her legs intensified. At last, the feeling she so desperately sought was in her grasp. A man, unafraid and unconcerned by her beauty, was going to ravage her.

Devin made those intentions clear as he crashed his lips onto hers, shoving his tongue into her mouth and pinning her against the wall with his body weight. She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe with him pressed against her and his hand around her neck. As Devin aggressively kissed her, he hungrily groped various parts of her body, giving extra attention to her breasts and even slipping his hand into her pants. He didn’t ask for permission. He didn’t seek her consent. He just did it, an act so taboo that people stopped joking about it years ago.

It was no laughing matter for Jessica, though. The way Devin kissed and touched her – hard, aggressive, and full of the toxic masculine lust she’d been taught to fear – set the tone for the devious act she was about to experience. There was no getting around it. She was about to do something that would’ve left every woman her age aghast.

Devin seemed to know that too. After kissing so hard that she struggled to breathe, he abruptly released her lips from his and leered over her with domineering intent.

“For once, this isn’t about what a pretty girl with nice tits wants,” he told her. “It’s about what I want!”

Jessica, too scared and aroused to form words, just nodded feebly under his grasp. She wasn’t used to being so trapped within a man’s grasp. She didn’t know many women who had ever been in such a position.

“You’re going to get on the bed, strip naked, and take my cock like a horny bitch in heat,” he went on. “Do you understand?”

That kind of vulgarity shocked her. In fact, Jessica was certain that saying those words in that tone to a woman would’ve gotten Devin arrested on the spot. It was jarring, but it also reminded her why she had to go to such lengths to get the experience she want.

“I…understand,” Jessica said weakly.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you. Speak up!” Devin demanded.

“I said…I understand,” she told him.

“Louder!” he commanded. “Say it like you really need it…more than anything you’ve craved.”

He squeezed her neck a little harder and pressed her up against the wall, so much so that he lifted her off the floor. It left her even more vulnerable, but it also made her even more aroused, as if Devin had somehow tapped into a well of forbidden desire.

“I understand!” Jessica shouted. “Please…do it to me.”

She wasn’t sure if that had been weak enough. She barely knew what a weak, vulnerable woman sounded like anymore. It sounded so foreign to her, but it seemed to do the trick. Devin finally loosened his hold on her.

“Good,” he said sternly. “Now, let’s get down to business!”

The imposing man backed away from the wall and shoved her over to the bed, not showing the least bit of concern for her. Already short of breath and shuddering with adrenaline, Jessica practically tripped over the mattress, falling right on top of the clean sheets she’d done so little to ruffle since she arrived.

She could still feel Devin’s shadow over her, his lecherous leer never once diverting from her. It filled her with a mix of dread and excitement, so much so that she didn’t know where one feeling ended and the other began. Jessica didn’t care there. For once, she wasn’t going to make sure a man followed the proper protocol in getting her into bed.

“What are you waiting for? Get naked!” Devin ordered.

“I…I’m doing it. I promise,” Jessica said, unable to hide her arousal.

That came off as so awkward, being aroused and frightened at the same time. It didn’t kill the mood, though. It also didn’t stop her from doing what he said.

With trembling hands, Jessica stripped out of her shirt, pants, and shoes. Devin did the same, practically tearing off his shirt before taking off his pants as though they were on fire. The only thing that stayed on was his mask, keeping his face obscure. She couldn’t know the face of the man who was about to ravage her. Nobody could.

She had only gotten down to her bra and panties by the time Devin kicked off his pants, though. That gave her a clear view of his semi-erect penis. It was even bigger than he’d described in his ad. The idea of a man – especially one tasked with being rough and reckless with a beautiful woman – shoving that into a woman on his own terms seemed outrageous. It felt like one of those old concepts that wasn’t supposed to exist anymore, like slavery or gender-based discrimination.

It was still going to happen, though. He was really going to thrust that dick into her and she actually wanted it. That thought caused her to hesitate before taking her underwear off.

“Why are you stopping? Take it all off!” Devin shouted.

Not waiting for her to comply, he stormed over to the bed and ripped off her bra on the spot. Jessica gasped upon hearing the fabric tear, her breasts tumbling out on the whims of someone other than her.

Before she could get over that shock, Devin did the same with her panties. He tore them off with ease, exposing her intimate areas to someone who hadn’t requested to see it, let alone fuck it. Instinctively, she hugged her shoulders to cover her breasts, but the imposing man didn’t let her.

“Hey! No cheating,” he said. “Here…let’s get a good look at your tits and pussy.”

Once again using his strength to full effect, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up off the floor. He then got onto the king-sized bed and laid her down in the center, making it so she was as exposed and prone as possible. When she tried to cover her breasts again, he didn’t let her, grabbing her wrists and pinning them up next to her head.

“Yeah…that’s a rare sight,” Devin said, his eyes hungrily raking over her, “a beautiful, naked woman just lying there for the taking…my taking.”

He gazed upon her as though she were the rarest of spectacles. That might not have been far from the truth. The idea of any woman submitting to a man’s most toxic lusts must have been as jarring for him as it was for her. It must have been arousing too because just gazing at her naked body rendered his dick very erect.

“Look at you,” he said as he hovered over her, trailing his hand over her breasts. “This really is making you horny, isn’t it?”

He gave her breasts a hard squeeze, causing her to gasp. However, it wasn’t one of discomfort or dread. It had the distinct tone of a horny woman…one who hadn’t been satisfied in a long time.

As if to further convince her, he slipped one hand down between her legs, showing little reservation as he rubbed the outer folds of her pussy and inserted a finger into her vagina. That intensely forbidden feeling – to insert something into a woman’s genitals without warning or consent – raised the stakes of the act that awaited her. What they were about to do was very wrong in the eyes of the world around her, but it didn’t matter. She still wanted it so bad.

“I can feel it!” Devin said, sounding almost surprised. “Your pussy is so wet and hot. This isn’t just random thrill-seeking, is it? You really like it, don’t you? You like rough sex.”

“Yes!” she said without hesitation. “I…I love rough sex.”

It must have seemed pathetic, a beautiful woman like her admitting something so deviant. He was genuinely astonished. Jessica could tell. It put her efforts to hire a male gigolo – an act not entirely illegal, but still very taboo, especially for someone like her.

“I don’t envy you,” he told her. “Having a kink like that…no wonder you had to find a guy like me to get it.”

“I know. I’m a freak!” she admitted. “I’m a beautiful woman and I like to be fucked hard. Mock me for it later. For now, just…give it to me. Please…don’t make me beg.”

That sounded even worse, but it got the point across. She was desperate, having to resort to extremes to get the sex she wanted. As a beautiful woman, she was used to getting everything she desired with minimal effort. The fact she had to go to such elaborate lengths for such a devious experience spoke volumes about her and the world she lived in.

“You’ll get what you want,” Devin said firmly, “and so will I!”

With a mix of urgency of lust, the imposing man ceased his groping and got on top of her. He forcibly pushed her legs apart, not being gentle or caring in the slightest, and aligned his rigid manhood with her pussy. Jessica kept her hands at the side of her head, demonstrating a submission that few women dared, and braced herself for Devin’s unbridled lust.

Through a simple thrust of his hips – again, with no warning, consent, or affection – he entered her. Sharp sensations of hard penetration surged through her body. It came at her like a bolt of lightning, igniting nerves and evoking feelings that were so rarely stimulated. Jessica gasped at the feeling, but was quickly silenced by an onslaught of the hardest, roughest sex she’d had in a long time.

“Yeah! That’s it, you horny bitch!” Devin said with a domineering grunt. “Take it! Take it hard…just the way you like it!”

Such vulgar words in such a crude tone offended her on some levels, but intensified the feeling on many others. Devin ravaged her like an animal freed of his chains, working his body against hers, humping her hard with every fervent motion. Jessica’s world rocked in accord with his movements, her breasts bouncing and her body contorting to the feeling of a big, hard penis pumping into her depths without a shred of reservation.

He wasn’t careful in the slightest. There was no pause in between so he could get her permission to do something. Devin did not follow the script of her many other lovers. She was not the arbiter of their sex. She didn’t initiate the act or set the tone. Her status as a beautiful young woman who always had leverage meant nothing anymore. The entire sexual dynamic that she had been taught was thrown away. Instead, she was just a sexual outlet for a horny, aggressive man.

“This is it,” she said as her world shook. “This…is what I wanted. To be fucked…ravaged. I…I love it!”

Just admitting that out loud felt like she was betraying everything she’d been taught about normal sex. Unfortunately, normal sex just didn’t do it for Jessica. She needed something deviously abnormal else to achieve the satisfaction she sought.

Devin did his part to deliver. He maintained that hard, rigorous pace of sex. His hands still gripping her thighs, he forced her legs harder apart so he could get in deeper with every thrust, stimulating the innermost recesses of her womanhood. That alone triggered a unique flood of sensations, the likes of which sent her to the brink of orgasm.

It usually didn’t happen that quickly. For Jessica – and for most girls she knew – getting that sweet sexual release took considerable effort. She really had to work at it, making heavy demands on the man as well, guiding them through various sex acts and expecting them to prioritize their pleasure before they could get theirs. A man’s orgasm was akin to just rolling down a hill where a woman’s was an ascent up a mountain.

That was not how it played out with Devin. Jessica’s love of rough sex just triggered something within her – something she didn’t know existed until she dared to defy convention, as she understood them. Deviant or not, the orgasmic bliss was still plenty potent.

“Ohhh! Coming…I’m coming!” Jessica exclaimed as the feeling approached.

“Already? Damn!” grunted Devin.

Then, in an act that heightened the defiance, Devin released his grip on her left thigh and grabbed her by the throat. With the same aggressive intent he’d shown earlier, he choked her as she crossed the threshold. It was an act of naked domination, a powerful man imposing himself on a vulnerable woman. Rather than offend her, though, it brought her intense pleasure.

“Ack!” was all she got out before the orgasm hit.

It struck her like a tidal wave, the hot release of raw pleasure. Jessica squeezed the sheets with her hands, curled her toes, and arched her back as every muscle below her waist was set ablaze with orgasmic sensations.

It was so intense that Devin actually had to slow the pace of their vigorous sex. Even through his mask, he looked genuinely impressed.

“Wow. You are so…I don’t even know the word!” he said. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but…I like it!”

Jessica barely heard him over feelings of orgasmic bliss, but she got the message and understood the sentiment. The idea of a woman enjoying such deviant sex – let alone a man who admitted to wanting it – was just so problematic. She could agonize over it later, though. There were still plenty more rough sex to enjoy.

“Guess that means I’ll just have to fuck you harder!” Devin said with a devious grin.

Still dazed by pleasure, Jessica just nodded while under the imposing man’s grip. The first orgasm usually just set the tone. From that point forward, it was just a matter of venting the pent up desire.

Devin took full advantage of that. Not waiting for her to recover from her orgasm, he resumed the heated rhythm he’d established earlier. He even got bolder, using both hands to choke her while he humped her fervently. Jessica did nothing to fight it, choking and moaning helplessly as her world kept rocking. Having completely surrendered to a man’s lustful whims, she braced herself for more sex.

He didn’t hold back, ravaging her in every way he could and not once asking whether he had her permission. He decided their positions. He chose how hard and how fast they fucked. Jessica was just along for the ride. He turned her over, laid her flat on her stomach, and took her from behind. He then pulled her up onto all fours, stood up on the bed, and pumped his cock into her while slapping her butt repeatedly. It stung, sending surges of pain and degradation. Jessica still loved it, though. In fact, she courage it.

“Harder!” she cried out. “Do it harder!”

He gladly obliged, slapping her so hard she could feel marks forming on her naked skin. She’d probably have to hide them for a while. If any of her friends saw them, they would freak out. It was worth it, though…so incredibly worth it.

In that position, Jessica had another orgasm. Again, it came with such ease, the reckless intensity of their sex providing abundant stimulation. Devin didn’t slow down, though. Even as she came, he kept fucking her in a selfish pursuit of his own pleasure.

He must have realized how rare it was, a man being allowed to ravage a beautiful woman like her. He really drew it out, as though he didn’t want it to end too quickly. Jessica couldn’t blame him. She had no idea how many other girls like her there were, beautiful young woman who enjoyed rough sex and getting dominated by a man. Based on everything she’d been taught about normal sex, it couldn’t have been many.

Devin made good use of the opportunity and the time for which she’d paid him. He fucked her long and hard, going at it from several more positions that did plenty to ruffle the sheets on the bed. She climaxed several more times as well. Each time she did, he choked or spanked her a little harder. It helped her catch up on all the satisfying sex she hadn’t had, despite all the eager lovers she’d entertained. It also helped him eventually get to his own special peak.

“I’m getting…so close,” he grunted. “Can’t hold it…much longer!”

There was real strain in his voice. Jessica could tell he didn’t want it to end, but his stamina – physical and sexual – was near its limits. She had already had more than her share of orgasms. Devin still craved his release. For that final moment, though, he managed one last act of decadence.

“On your back!” Devin ordered. “I’m going to…come on your…face.”

“Mmm…I’m ready,” Jessica told him.

It shouldn’t have been so appealing. A man climaxing on a woman’s face was supposed to be a relic of a bygone era where men oppressed women regularly. She was supposed to be repulsed. Instead, she licked her lips as though she were about to eat her favorite treat.

Now on her back once more, she laid in the center of the bed as Devin delivered the last round of rough sex. He pumped his cock into her extra hard, the hard smacking sound of his pelvis smacking into hers echoing throughout the room. She could see through his mask the strain of the approaching pleasure, as though it were a dam ready to burst.

Finally, after the necessary number of thrusts, she sensed Devin cross the threshold. With more urgency than she had ever seen in a man, he withdrew his cock from her pussy, positioned himself on top of her, and aimed it at her face. Then, after he gave it a few more strokes, he ejaculated with a force that defied Jessica’s knowledge of male biology.

“Ohhh fuck!” he exclaimed.

Like pent up volcano, thick streams of seminal fluid erupted from the imposing man’s dick. It splattered onto her face in messy globs, dripping down her nose, face, and neck. Some even ended up on her breasts. He must have really held back to release that much cum. It must have been really satisfying too because she had never heard a man sound that content from an orgasm.

“So much cum,” she mused at it covered her face. “Men…they still amaze me, but not as much as women.”

An extended moment of awkwardness followed. Devin remained over her, still rubbing his cock until every last drop of fluid was extracted. He continued gasping for air, his manly flesh glistening with sweat after so much exertion. Jessica had worked up a sweat with men before, but not like that. It was quite a sight.

As they caught their breath, the imposing man rolled off to her side and laid next to her for a brief moment. She barely moved, not even attempting to wipe the streaks of manly juices off her face and breasts. Every muscle below her waist was still burning from rough sex and multiple orgasms. She was also fairly certain she had a mark the shape of his hand on her butt. Had Jessica not been so drained and content, she would’ve laughed.

She briefly glanced over towards Devin, who looked every bit as satisfied. She was usually pretty talkative after sex, but had little to say. She was still tempted to reach over and embrace him, offering her sincere gratitude for giving her the rough sex she so sorely needed. However, she never got the chance.

“We’re done,” Devin said flatly.

In the blink of an eye, the imposing man that had fucked her so hard reverted back to the overly-careful demeanor that she’d seen in so many others. He couldn’t get off the bed fast enough. He didn’t even make eye-contact with her as he got dressed, making sure to keep his mask on every step of the way.

Jessica wanted to feel insulted after what they just did, but she couldn’t blame him for being so distant. She knew what they had just done. She knew what happened to men like him if anyone even accused him of doing it.

“Thank you,” she told him, offering what gratitude she could.

“No need for thanks,” he replied, still not looking away as he put on his shoes.

“I still mean it.”

“So do I,” Devin replied. “You said it yourself. You know the drill. This is the only way people like us can do this sort of thing.”

“People like us?” she questioned.

“You don’t need to play dumb. You wouldn’t have known how to reach me if you were,” he said as he retrieved his money and made his way to the door. “You and me…we’re at the mercy of what we’re supposed to want instead of what we actually want. We live in a world where a man can’t fuck a woman the way I just fucked you and a woman can’t admit she likes it. That’s why it has to be this way…hidden, secret, and deviant.”

With those ominous words, he exited the room, leaving her naked on the bed. He almost seemed scared. That was pretty remarkable, given his stature and the intensity with which he’d just fucked her. It didn’t make sense that a woman like her had to solicit the services of a man like him to get the satisfaction she craved, but there was no way around it. That was just the way it was.

“I still like it rough,” Jessica said to herself. “If that makes me a deviant in the eyes of everyone else in this crazy world…so be it.”

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“After The Cure” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote while some close family members of mine dealt with major medical issues. It helped remind me just how invaluable doctors can be in keeping us healthy and easing the suffering of others. That talent gives them a unique sex appeal, which I attempt to celebrate in this story. Enjoy!

“Another day, another bunch of lives saved…and lost,” said a restless Dr. Albert Galen.

It was a common refrain for the end of Dr. Galen’s day. It started bright and early in the oncology wing at the Walen Carter Hospital, which he’d worked at for nearly ten years. Throughout the course of his day, he met with patients who’d just gotten the worst news anyone could get about their health. They had cancer.

Regardless of how treatable it was, the news always hit hard and he had to be the one to break it down. Across from his desk, which was often cluttered with files and paperwork, there was a chair where most of his patients sat. More often than not, they were already scared, devastated, and in tears. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to break down crying while he gave them important medical information. That happened at least three times over the past week.

Dr. Galen had to be numb to all that, hardening his soul to an extent that made him feel like a machine spouting medical jargon rather than a doctor. He got into medicine for the same reason most doctors did. He wanted to heal people. He remembered how eager and energetic he’d been when he saw his first patient. Now, he questioned whether he could ever feel that kind of energy again.

The last two days gave him plenty of reasons to doubt that. On his desk was a file of a 42-year-old woman who’d just died because of lung cancer that should’ve been treatable. Less than three hours ago, he had to watch the woman’s husband and children break down crying after she passed. His nurses tried to console them, but Dr. Galen knew there was only so much healing they could offer.

“Life isn’t fair and neither is medicine,” he said solemnly as he closed the woman’s file.

Those were the exact words of his predecessor, Dr. James, who’d retired several years early from oncology. Dr. Galen hadn’t noticed at the time, but there was a distant emptiness in his eyes. He later suspected that Dr. James retired early because he’d seen one too many heartbreaking scenes. He had treated and cured countless patients, but the ones he lost always stung the worst. Looking back on it, he probably should’ve seen that as a warning.

“There’s fair, there’s unfair, and then there’s this,” the middle-aged man said with a sigh. “Cancer…the ultimate injustice.”

Checking his watch, he saw that it was late. He should’ve gone home an hour ago, but Dr. James preferred to keep busy. It was his way of coping with especially unfair days. After watching cancer take the life of a woman who’d attended her youngest son’s first little league game three weeks ago, he needed to stay extra busy. That woman had been especially unlucky, even by medical standards. Cases like that took cancer’s unfairness to an extreme.

Dr. Galen knew that doctors couldn’t get too personally attached with patients. That was supposed to mitigate the impact whenever something went wrong, which happened fairly often with cancer. Even for the best doctors, though, it took a toll.

“The doctors that save the most lives usually have the most hardened souls,” Dr. Galen muttered, “the second greatest injustice.”

That was something his old teacher in medical school told him when he said he wanted to specialize in oncology. He didn’t get the subtext at the time, but with each dead patient, it felt like less a warning and more a prophecy…one that kept fulfilling itself.

Still not inclined to go home, Dr. Galen sat back in his desk and opened up the drawer where he kept a bottle of scotch. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to have it in the oncology wing, but after seeing a seven-year-old boy cry over the body of his dead mother, he sensed the Dean of Medicine would give him a pass.

“Guess my soul isn’t hard enough yet,” he said, “but I’m almost there.”

In the bottle, Dr. Galen saw the reflection of a middle-aged man who looked at least eight-years older than he should have. He wasn’t even 50 and his hair was already graying. It undercut how hard he’d worked to take care of himself after his father died at such a young age. That work didn’t seem to matter, though. Even when he wasn’t the one with cancer, it still found a way to make him sick.

Groaning to himself, the middle-aged man opened the bottle and retrieved a glass from the other drawer. As he sifted through more messy folders, there was a knock at his door.

“Dr. Galen?” said a feminine voice. “Do you have a minute?”

Looking up from his desk, Dr. Galen was somewhat surprised to see an attractive young woman standing in his doorway. If the low cut mini-skirt, halter top, and cheap flip-flips were any indication, she wasn’t a nurse.

“Yes, that’s me,” he said, setting aside the scotch bottle and putting on his professional demeanor again. “Can I help you, ma’am? Just so you know, I don’t usually take appointments this late at night.”

“That’s okay. I’m not a patient,” the woman said. “My name is Anna. My mother is Lydia Strom. You treated her for non-small-cell lung carcinoma last month.”

Dr. Galen needed a minute to recall that name, partly due to the late hour of the night and the myriad of patients he treated. It was somewhat striking that someone remembered such a specific type of cancer, which helped him recall a particular case. In that same case, though, he didn’t recall the patient’s daughter wearing such provocative attire to a hospital.

“Lydia Strom…I remember treating her,” Dr. Galen said. “She’s the woman who always had to have that old jade necklace of hers nearby, right?”

“Yep! That’s her,” Anna said with a smile.

“Is she okay?” he asked. “If I recall, we caught it early and she responded well to chemotherapy.”

“You did. As far as I know, she’s completely cured and as healthy as she’s ever been. She even started taking tennis lessons with my dad.”

“That’s a healthy activity. Is everything else okay? Did she see get that counseling I recommended?”

“Calm down, Doctor. I’m not here because something’s wrong,” the young woman told him. “I’m here because I wanted to thank you personally. When someone saves your mother from cancer, a thank-you and a gift card just doesn’t cut it.”

Dr. Galen was taken aback, but in a good way. It wasn’t that unusual for a patient or their family members to offer extra gratitude after their treatment. After the day he’d endured, though, he needed it.

“Oh, well…you’re very welcome, I suppose,” he said, still trying to maintain his professional demeanor. “I’m not the only one you should thank, though. My nurses, my staff, and even my assistants played a part.”

“I already thanked them,” Anna said. “They all told me the same thing. You’re the one who does the heavy lifting around here. You make all the hard calls. You shoulder the good news and the bad. Some even wonder how you do it.”

“It comes with the degree and the stethoscope, especially my chosen field.”

“You say that like it’s no big deal.”

“I know it is,” he admitted, “although, if I’m being honest, my staff thinks I handle things better than I actually do.”

“In their defense, you’re very convincing. You had to keep your cool while my father, my brother, and little sister lost it when you gave your diagnosis. We were all so scared. For a while, I actually had to think about my mother dying…contemplating life without her.”

Her words took on an emotional undertone. Dr. Galen had heard it many times before, but the way Anna said it made it seem meaningful. It was enough to make him temper his doctor-like demeanor that he always maintained while at the hospital.

Anna took a moment to regain her composure. She then entered his office, closing the door behind them. Walking up to his desk, her eyes glistening with tears of sincerity, she leaned over his desk. In doing so, Dr. Galen noticed that the halter top she wore was a bit undersized.

“I’ve never been good at confronting terrible things,” she went on. “During my mom’s treatment, I basically hid in the corner and kept my head down, not wanting to look at it or think about it. That’s probably why you don’t remember me.”

“That, and I don’t recall you wearing such noticeable attire,” Dr. Galen said, trying hard not to stare at the young woman’s cleavage.

“That’s because I only dress this way when I’ve got a damn good reason. Not long ago, that usually involved getting free drinks at the bar near my college dorm. Now, my priorities are different.”

There was a very seductive subtext to her words. Anna leaned over a bit more, as if to direct his gaze towards her breasts. Having eschewed professionalism, Dr. Galen let himself look. In doing so, he surmised that the young woman wasn’t wearing a bra. From there, the doctor in him diagnosed her intent.

“My world changed when I found out my mom had cancer,” Anna continued. “It changed again when you told her she was cured.”

“I’m just doing what doctors do,” he said, his eyes alternating between her breasts and face.

“It’s one thing to treat a sore throat. It’s another to treat cancer. That’s why when you save a life, it matters a little more. It also deserves special gratitude.”

She almost seemed determined, as though it was her duty to bring balance to a horribly unfair universe. Having just lamented about the gross injustices wrought by cancer, her demeanor heightened Dr. Galen’s interest almost as much as her cleavage.

With his eyes now locked on her, the attractive young woman crawled up onto his oversized desk, not at all minding the mess of files and paperwork. Upon reaching the center, she shifted into an upright position, narrowed her gaze on him, and stripped off the undersized halter top. She even made a spectacle of it, doing it slowly and sensually so that her well-shaped breasts came tumbling out in just the right way. Suddenly, her lack of a bra made sense.

“Wow,” the middle-aged man said distantly.

“Just the symptom I was hoping for,” Anna said playfully.

Four years of medical school, three years of residency, and over a decade of experience in a well-funded private hospital had not given him the vocabulary he needed for that moment. He’d seen plenty of naked bodies of varying states of health. The sight of female breasts shouldn’t have had such an impact, but the way Anna presented them defied medical expertise.

“For the man who saved my mother, though,” she said, “I’d like to go the extra mile!”

That came off as both ambitious and sexy. Still atop a pile of paperwork, the attractive young woman unzipped the back of her mini-skirt and took it off, revealing an overly revealing G-string thong. It looked like something a woman would wear to a strip club rather than a hospital. After tossing the skirt aside, kicking her flip-flops off in the process, Anna made her intentions abundantly clear.

“Please…let me thank you, Dr. Galen,” she said intently, “not with words, cards, or hugs. I want to give you something more…something fitting for a man who fights the hardest battles in medicine.”

“I’d say that’s not necessary,” Dr. Galen said, “but I doubt that would dissuade you.”

“Another accurate diagnosis,” Anna laughed. “Battles leave scars. My dad’s an ex-marine so I know the signs. Plus, after finding out from your nurses that you’re single and only married to your work…well, let’s just say I don’t mind being a mistress for one night.”

Like a sexy predator, she crawled across the desk and grabbed him by his tie. She then pulled him into a deep, sensuous kiss…one that included lips, tongue, and everything in between. Dr. Galen offered no resistance. If anything, he embraced it and not just because he hadn’t had time for love, relationships, or sex.

His soul had been so hardened, agonizing over the patients he lost rather than celebrating the patients he saved. In his never-ending effort to remain professional, as a doctor, he worked so hard to temper his passions. Over the years, he’d become way too good at it. In an instant, though, Anna removed those emotional restraints.

“Stand up,” the beautiful woman said, still clutching her tie. “Let someone else treat you, for once.”

Not questioning her credentials, Dr. Galen did as she asked, rising up from his chair so the stood at the edge of his desk. Almost immediate, Anna undid his pants, pulling pushing them down along with his underwear to free his growing manhood. Just seeing her breasts earlier got his blood flowing in the right direction. Kissing her had ignited his arousal and Anna seemed intent on accelerating it.

“Wow. Looks like you need extra treatment,” Anna teased.

“You have no idea,” Dr. Galen said under his breath.

Licking her lips, the young woman eagerly engulfed his cock with her soft lips. Then, with an intensity and passion he rarely saw in a cancer ward, Anna went to work giving him oral sex. Like a skilled surgeon performing a delicate operation, she sucked and licked along the length of his member.

That hot, moist feeling around his manly flesh was intoxicating, sending shivers of sharp sensation through his body. His knees nearly buckled, forcing him to hold onto her head where he ran his fingers through her long, silky hair. The stern poise that doctors were supposed to maintain further faltered, making way for more intense feelings.

“Anna…so thorough,” he gasped, the doctor in him still making observations. “That feels…so good.”

The young woman looked up at him with those seductive eyes as she sucked his dick. In them, he saw plenty of lust, but he saw just as much gratitude. She was really serious about thanking him. She wasn’t just looking at an accomplished doctor who hadn’t lost all his hair yet. She was looking at the man who saved her mother. That proved to be a powerful motivator.

The intensity of her oral sex escalated. She took in as much of his length as her gag reflex allowed, which proved quite impressive. She used her tongue along with her lips, grasping the base with both hands and working to maximize his arousal. It didn’t take long for him to reach that state. Between her blowjob skills and him not having had sex in a while, Dr. Galen soon felt the burning need to vent his pent up desires.

Anna must have sensed that need because she ceased her oral teasing, but kept stroking his cock with the utmost care. Already gasping for air, streaks of saliva dripping down her face, she bore the expression of a woman who had just as much desire.

“Mmm…nice and hard,” Anna said to him.

“It’s been a while,” Dr. Galen said sheepishly.

“That ends now!” the attractive woman said intently.

Without hesitation, she adjusted her body so that she could remove her revealing thong. She even made it a point to toss it to him, as if to give him a keep-sake. Dr. Galen caught it instinctively, which allowed him to feel how hot and moist they were. It showed just how aroused she was, the thought of giving herself to the man who saved her mother providing the ultimate turn-on.

“Take me, Dr. Galen,” Anna urged him, eagerly presenting him with her fully naked body. “Do whatever you need to do…as hard as you need to do it.”

“I assure you, Anna,” Dr. Galen told her as he loosed his tie, “what I need from you is not that extensive.”

“So try anyways,” she told him.

That came off as a diagnosis, of sorts…as though she could see his hardened soul and all the cracks that had emerged. He spent so much time treating others, but had ignored treating himself for his own ailments. Now, here she was, offering him the perfect medicine in the form of her sex.

Dr. Galen couldn’t get undressed fast enough. After undoing his tie, he threw off his white coat and undid his dress shirt. Anna even helped him, crawling over to the ledge of his desk and kissing him hard on the lips, her gratitude and affection showing with every gesture. She prioritized his treatment and he finally decided to do the same.

As soon as he got the rest of his clothes off, he eagerly took Anna by the hips and pulled her forward so that she was off his desk. Their lips never parted, his tongue wrestling with hers as he got his first taste of her naked skin. Then, with a recklessness not typical for an experienced doctor, he cleared an area on his desk by tossing aside the stacks of paper and assorted clutter, creating a nice space of clear mahogany with which to work.

Dr. Galen wasted no time in beginning the treatment, turning the young woman around and bending her over his desk to that those voluptuous breasts of hers pressed up against the wood. It also gave him his first solid look at her heart-shaped ass, which she wasn’t afraid to shake a little, as if he needed more incentive.

“I’m ready, Dr. Galen,” Anna said. “Go on. Treat yourself as much as I want to treat you.”

The middle-aged man didn’t say a word. Feeling a surge of energy that most men his age didn’t feel after midnight, he grabbed hold of the young woman’s hips and guided his throbbing member towards her wet crevice. His desires in overdrive, he thrust forward and entered her hot depths.

“Ohhh, Dr. Galen!” she moaned.

He responded only with a grunt. For a brief moment, the experienced doctor savored the feeling of her womanly flesh surrounding his rigid cock. He could feel her inner muscles tighten, as if to embrace him with her gracious affections. It gave greater meaning to the basic pleasures that followed, as well as greater incentive.

Flushed with vigor he hadn’t felt since med school, Dr. Galen began moving his hips, working his manhood inside Anna’s depths. For once, he wasn’t the overly careful doctor. Instead, he was the patient getting the treatment he needed. The treatment just happened to be the sex of a beautiful, grateful young woman.

“That’s it! That’s it, Doctor!” Anna gasped, matching his energy every step of the way. “Your treatment…so good.”

Those passionate cries spoke volumes for the potency of such treatment. It only got more potent as he stepped up the pace.

Grunting and gasping with greater intensity, Dr. Galen fervently pumped his cock into the young woman’s depths, rocking her body and his desk. She eagerly shifted with every thrust, elevating her right leg and raking her nails down the polished wood. He didn’t care if she left scratches. He didn’t even care when she knocked his phone off the table. Nothing mattered at the moment besides embracing the treatment he so sorely needed.

At one point, Anna rose up and guided one of his hands to her swaying breasts. The feeling of her fleshy mound in his hand added greater intimacy to their act. The way she placed her hand over his, urging her to caress her body and fill her depths, demonstrated more than the whims of a horny young woman. They revealed a sincerity behind the desire, a genuine effort to offer more than just a simple thank-you. Having received plenty of hugs and cards from cured patients, Dr. Galen welcomed that effort.

Whether by gratitude or raw lust, their bodies shifted over the course of their sex. Anna kept guiding his hands over her naked body, allowing him to feel almost every counter of her feminine figure. Dr. Galen found that she enjoyed having her nipples pinched. She also enjoyed having her buttocks rubbed a certain way. It showed in the way she moaned and gasped through each act.

“Anna,” he said in a deep tone as he rubbed her nipples, “you’re welcome…so very welcome.”

“Ooh thank you, Dr. Galen!” she said, mirroring his sentiment. “Thank you so much!”

His keen medical knowledge of the human body’s tender spots really paid off. He was fairly certain she climaxed at least once, although even his medical expertise only went so far. She didn’t seem to make that priority, though. Orgasms were a bonus rather than a goal. She remained intent on treating him.

In the spirit of maximizing that treatment, he repositioned her body in preparation for his own peak. He briefly withdrew from her depths, picked up her off the floor, and set her down on his desk so that she faced him. Her legs remained wide open, welcoming him back into her depths with ease. As he grabbed her by the thighs and resumed their sex, making an extra push towards a much-needed release, she threw her arms around his neck and gazed longingly into his eyes.

“You need this. You want this. I can feel it,” Anna said intently. “Please, Dr. Galen…let me give it to you!”

Dazed and desperate for that healing bliss, he kissed her deeply and wrapped his arms around her as he made his way to the brink. He embraced her as desperately as she’d embraced him, wanting to receive the powerful feeling she sought to convey. Through that shared effort – her offering and him taking it – Dr. Galen achieved a peak that was nothing short of a miracle cure.

“Ohhh Anna!” he exclaimed.

It was like diving into a pool of healing, feeling that powerful surge of pleasure and fulfillment. His hold on her tightened, his knees buckled, and his member throbbed inside her in conjunction with his release. Hot waves bliss rippled through his body, supplemented by Anna’s tender touch and affectionate embrace. In that moment, he felt his soul soften for the first time in years.

While locked in each other’s arms, her legs still secure around his waist, Dr. Galen just clung to her as she supported him in his blissful state. Her gracious gaze and warm smile never faded. She even caressed the side of his unshaven face, not caring about the gray hairs. It was like she had taken his hand and guided him out of a dark corner that he’d stayed in for too long. Instead of lamenting on the patients he lost, he celebrated the ones he’d saved.

“Anna…you were right,” Dr. Galen said, still breathless from his peak. “I did need that…more than you know.”

“Don’t you dare thank me, Doctor,” Anna teased, still caressing his face. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“Well, I think you’ve made the extent of your gratitude quite clear.”

“Good!” she said. “That means I can skip a few steps from here on out.”

“What do you mean?” he asked curiously.

“I mean…I’m still not done thanking you.”

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