Tag Archives: sexy story

A (Sexy) Personal Story About My Ex-Girlfriend

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Every now and then, I take a moment to get personal on this site by recounting a particular moment in my life. I enjoy sharing those parts of myself. I even find them therapeutic at times. Most of the time, I do that to help make a larger point about a more serious issue or to celebrate a holiday, such as Mother’s Day.

However, this is not one of those times.

Today, I’d like to share a story of a far sexier variety. Don’t drive your heads too deep into the gutter. It’s not one of those stories that will get as graphic as my novels or my sexy short stories. This is just a little tidbit of my life that should help explain why I have such a lurid mind and such eclectic passions.

This particular story involves an ex-girlfriend of mine. Don’t worry, it doesn’t involve bitterness, broken hearts, or revenge. There are enough stories like that on the internet. Instead, I want to share a story that is both uplifting and influential. To date, I think it has heavily influenced my desire to write and share sexy stories.

To understand why this moment is so influential, I need to provide some context. This particular moment occurred during my freshman year of college. I had met my girlfriend online through a comic book message board. We’d been chatting back and forth for over a year before we actually met. When we finally did meet in person, it was the opposite of one of those catfishing stories.

What we had was a beautiful thing. We were very comfortable talking to each other about things that were nerdy or embarrassing to discuss with others. That didn’t just pertain to comics, though. We also talked about sexy stuff. In our defense, were a couple of horny college students. That’s not an excuse. That’s a valid reason. There’s a difference, as I’ve noted before.

It’s that comfort that helped us forge what might have been one of the sexiest parts of our relationship. During the Thanksgiving holiday that year, my girlfriend came over the visit for a few days. As part of the festivities, we both went shopping on Black Friday. That may not sound romantic, but seeing as how we both love shopping on the holidays, it might as well have been a day in Paris.

I took her to one of the big malls in my area. We spent most of the afternoon there, eating lunch and navigating chaotic crowds. The fact she insisted on wearing heels just showed how dedicated she was to sharing the holiday spirit with me. That dedication showed in the last store we visited that day, which happened to be Victoria’s Secret.

Now, if you’re a healthy heterosexual man like me, you tend to have mixed feelings about that store. You love sexy lingerie and the sexy models who wear them, but when you’re single, spending too much time around a Victoria’s Secret can send all the wrong messages. When you’re with your girlfriend, though, it can be the sexiest kinds of fun.

My ex-girlfriend understood this so she didn’t hesitate to lead me inside, putting me in close proximity with all the sexy attire I love describing in my stories. From there, she demonstrated the energy of a kid in a candy factory, browsing some extra intimate apparel that included a nighty and a thong.

It’s worth noting at this point that my ex was abnormally comfortable with this sort of thing. She wasn’t just the kind of girl who didn’t mind talking about sex. She had a pretty dirty mind and an even dirtier mouth. In public and around people, she was very sweet and polite. In private, though, she said things that would make a hardened sailor gasp. That should help make clear why I was so attracted to her.

She knew this too because we spent more time in that Victoria’s Secret store than we did any other store at the mall. We didn’t mind, though. Personally, I wish we could’ve stayed longer. When we did leave, it wasn’t empty-handed. My ex bought a little something that day, as well. It made for a damn productive day, especially for two indebted college students.

The story doesn’t end there, though. In fact, it gets even sexier because early that next morning, my ex decided to put that new lingerie to good use. Just before the sun came up, she snuck over to my bed and slipped out of the pajamas she’d worn, revealing that she was wearing that same sexy nighty and revealing thong we saw in the store. Needless to say, that woke me up in the best possible way.

What happened after that is something I prefer to keep private. I promise it didn’t get too lurid. Remember, I was at my parents’ house and they weren’t going to let us get too reckless. That said, there were some intimate moments that were pretty intense, probably the most intense we shared during our relationship.

That’s as much detail I’m willing to share about that moment, for now. I hope it offers some insight into where some of my kinky musings come from. Out of respect and appreciation for that moment, I won’t share anything else about my ex-girlfriend. I doubt she’ll ever read this, but I still sincerely thank her for the time we had together.

A while back, I found out my ex-girlfriend actually got married. By all accounts, she’s as happy as she’s ever been and I’m happy for her. I think the man she married is lucky to have her. I sincerely hope that I can build something like it with a future lover. Until that day comes, sexy memories like this one will keep inspiring me.

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Filed under Jack Fisher's Insights, romance

Sexy Short Story: Maximum Effort (Inspired By Deadpool)

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote entitled, “Maximum Effort.” Like “Avenging Desire” before it, this was inspired by a superhero movie, specifically “Deadpool 2.” As such, expect an appropriately crude, but inherently sexy tale. Enjoy!

“One more, Stan!” said Wendy Maxwell from across the bar.

“Just one more?” the middle-aged man asked with a crooked grin.

“You heard me right. I’m saving my appetite tonight,” she said proudly. “Deadpool 2 is one movie I want to stay hungry for!”

“You sure you want to say that out loud?” he joked.

“I know what I said. I’m not taking it back.”

Wendy spoke with a certainty that left no room for argument, even from her Uncle Stan. He owned one of the best sports bars in town, which happened to be right across the street from the High-Max Cinema movie theater. She could see the oversized complex out the window and couldn’t wait to make her way inside in a few hours. She planned to be among the first in line to see Deadpool 2.

She’d cleared her schedule for the day, taking off work and taking care of any errands that might create a distraction. She’d also made it a point to pre-order her ticket and reserve the best possible seats in the biggest IMAX theater within a 25-mile radius of her house. She could’ve just gone to the one at the mall that was closer, but in the spirit of Deadpool himself, Wendy approached seeing this movie with maximum effort.

“I got to say, Wendy,” her Uncle Stan said from behind the bar, “I didn’t peg you for the superhero fan. A few years ago, I don’t think you knew the difference between Spider-Man and Batman.”

“What can I say?” she said. “A lot can change in the span of a few years.”

“I’ll say!” her uncle said. “One day, you’re agonizing over which generic action flick you can tolerate with your friends. The next, you’re prepared to drop kick someone who tries to buy the last Deadpool-themed bra.”

“You sound so proud,” Wendy teased. “My mom is convinced I’m just overcompensating after my ex-boyfriend ditched me for his roommate’s sister.”

“Eh, what does she know? You’re more self-aware than she ever was.”

“Kind of like Deadpool himself!” she pointed out.

“No argument here.”

Wendy laughed as her uncle poured her one last cup of coffee before. She’d just about finished her dinner, which consisted of a small sandwich and some soup. It was light, but for good reason. She didn’t just want to save room for popcorn. She wanted to make sure she didn’t miss a second of the movie. That meant minimizing the risk of bathroom breaks, drowsiness, and an upset stomach.

She had never taken such elaborate precautions for a movie before. Then again, she’d never been so enthusiastic about a movie, either. That was before she saw the first Deadpool movie two years ago. She actually hadn’t intended to see it. Her now ex-boyfriend had bought them tickets to see it. Then, the day before the premier, he dumped her, but left her the ticket.

Never one to turn down a free movie, she just went and saw it. From the very beginning, with that hilariously vulgar opening credits scene, Wendy was hooked. She had no idea who Deadpool was or why the movie was such a big deal. By the time it ended, though. She was hooked. She needed to laugh. She needed to see something crude, funny, and vulgar after her breakup. Deadpool was the perfect medicine.

After that day, she became a full-fledged Deadpool fan. She started buying Deadpool comics, following Deadpool-related forms, and even found herself getting into the larger world of superhero comics. It helped that her brother loved comics. He helped catch her up and even got her into cos-playing at a comic book convention last year. It had been so much fun and it all started with Deadpool.

For Wendy, seeing Deadpool 2 was like completing a process. She’d been such a workaholic after graduating college, pulling long hours at the software company she worked at. Her former boyfriend got her to lighten up somewhat, but it was Deadpool who helped her achieve a greater epiphany.

“Maximum effort…for the right reasons,” Wendy said to herself with a smile before finishing the last of her sandwich.

It had been one of the many memorable lines from the first movie. She was good at giving lots of effort, but never with much passion. Deadpool, both the character in the comics and the one Ryan Reynolds brought to life in the movie, channeled his passion and wit into everything he did. Whether it was shooting up Ajax’s crew or trying to hook up with Death herself in the comics, he did everything with personality.

That helped Wendy so much, both in her professional life and her personal life. She’d made more friends, done better at work, and even embraced a more distinct dress style. For the Deadpool 2 premier, she’d dyed parts of her hair red, wore a Deadpool-themed halter top, and even wore Deadpool-themed underwear.

It might have been quirky for most, but it helped that she was far from the only one in her Uncle’s bar. Looking around, she saw a lot of fellow Deadpool fans showing off their attire. Some were dressed in costumes. Some were showing off their Deadpool-themed tattoos. Everyone seemed to share in the excitement, but Wendy doubted that excitement was as intimate or personal.

As she wiped her hands on her napkin, her Uncle Stan arrived with the coffee. Once served, she took a quick sip and held it up proudly.

“To Deadpool,” she said to her Uncle, “the man who got me through some tough times and helped me put maximum effort into being awesome.”

“Cheers to that, Wendy,” her Uncle Stan said, rolling her eyes. “You talk about the guy like he’s your crush instead of a comic book character.”

“What can I say? He made me laugh at a time when I was crying over my ex. He inspired me to laugh at the overall absurdities of life. He even got me to dye my hair for the first time since high school. And nobody needed to dare me!”

“I’m glad he’s been such a positive influence. Just don’t start measuring all the men in your life to the same standards as comic book characters or Ryan Reynolds.”

“Relax, Uncle Stan!” Wendy said as she took another sip of her coffee. “I intend to maintain the positivity. I mean, it’s not like I’ll just up and fuck the first guy who dresses like Deadpool and talks like Ryan Reynolds or something.”

The older man laughed and shook his head before going back to serving other customers. Wendy went back to finishing her coffee, occasionally checking her phone to see how much longer she would have to wait. She still had a solid two hours before the movie. It promised to be an agonizing wait, but with each passing second she grew more excited.

“It’s almost here!” she said to herself. “Deadpool 2 is almost here! God, I wish there was a way to make the wait go faster.”

Moments after saying those words, I figure walked up to the bar next to her. He seemed to come out of nowhere. He was tall, well-built, and wearing a full-bodied Deadpool costume the likes of which she hadn’t seen since that comic book convention she went to with her brother. It looked like a perfect duplicate of the costume Ryan Reynolds wore in the first Deadpool movie.

“Hey bartender!” the man in the costume called out. “Whose balls do you have to fondle to pay the check? And for the record…yes, I moisturize!”

Wendy’s heart skipped a beat and her panties got a little warmer. She swore that voice sounded just like Ryan Reynolds, but it couldn’t be him. For one, the man in the costume looked taller than Ryan and there was no way big Hollywood star would be at her Uncle’s small-time bar, especially one married to Blake Lively.

At the same time, however, she found herself staring at him intently. Someone who put that much effort into a costume must have at least half her appreciation of all things Deadpool. Even after one of her uncle’s other bartenders came buy and processed his check, he still carried himself like the Merc with a Mouth himself.

“Hey,” Wendy called out. “How many times have you asked about ball-fondling today?”

The man in the suit turned towards her and seemed immediately intrigued. Even through that mask, Wendy sensed him smiling.

“That depends,” he replied jokingly. “Do you consider yourself for or against? How important is it to you that balls be fondled?”

“Well, it wasn’t that important to me until a few years ago,” Wendy said, mirroring his tone.

“A few years ago? You mean the same time that saint of a man, Ryan Reynolds, cracked a joke about it in the first Deadpool movie?”

“Oh, it was no joke to me. If making that move required fondling Wolverine’s balls, be they Hugh Jackman’s or anyone who looks like him, then I say ball fondling has proved its worth!”

They both laughed. The man barely even noticed when the bartender gave him his check back. Now leaning on the side of the bar, he leaned in a little closer. Again, she sensed a unique look through his mask. He was still smiling at her and in a very flirtatious way. The fact he smelled like fresh chimichangas – which had become her favorite snack food, by default – certainly helped.

“I take it from the dyed hair, the Hot Topic shirt, and the appreciation of ball-fondling jokes that you’re as excited about Deadpool 2 as me,” the man said.

“Well, I’d certainly say I’m excited, but you being as excited?” Wendy questioned. “I find that hard to believe.”

“What makes you say that?”

“For one, I don’t’ see a boner in your pants. Trust me, if I was a man. I’d be so hard right now I’d have to wear a dress.”

“You don’t say?” he said with a laugh. “So you’ve been glancing at my man parts?”

“Are you going to tell me that you’re not looking down my shirt right now, hoping your mask will hide it?”

Wendy, showing more playfulness that would’ve made Deadpool proud, leaned in closer so that her breasts were plainly visible through her halter top. She didn’t even need to gaze through his mask. She knew he liked what he saw. He didn’t even try to avoid it.

“I’ll plead the fifth on that,” he said. “I’ll also plead that you’re not here with someone…like, for instance, a jealous boyfriend who has the muscle mass of Colossus.”

“I’m alone,” she told him with a flirty look. “In fact, I’ve been single since I saw the first Deadpool movie.”

“Really? A pretty girl like you, one who’s willing to wear Deadpool-themed clothes that blatantly show off your breasts, is single? I find that hard to believe. And I know someone who paid to see the Green Lantern movie.”

“Believe it!” Wendy said confidently. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say that Deadpool has been the most important man in my life since my last breakup. You could say he’s become a passion of mine.”

“A passion?” he said with more intrigue. “Are we talking stamp collecting here or the kind that requires a spare pair of panties?”

“I own a vibrator that I’ve covered in no fewer than 16 Deadpool stickers. What do you think?”

Wendy hadn’t intended to sound that dirty, but she couldn’t help herself. Between her excitement surrounding Deadpool 2 and the man looking and sounding so much like Deadpool, her passion for the character was mixing with other passions. It also wasn’t lost on her that she hadn’t had sex since she broke up with her ex-boyfriend. On the night of a new Deadpool movie, it seemed more relevant.

She felt the gaze of the man in the costume narrow. She even swore she saw a slight bulge in his pants. She wasn’t exactly being subtle, but neither was he. Maybe that was just a byproduct of dressing like Deadpool, but it still did the trick. It still got her hotter than Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively in a sauna.

“I think,” the man said in a deeper tone, “that we might be able to help each other.”

“Are you saying you have more stickers?” she quipped in a flirty tone.

“I’m saying I’m here by myself as well. I had a girlfriend, but she didn’t care for Deadpool movies. She even tried to make me throw this costume away.”

“Sounds like a total bitch. You were right to dump her.”

“I haven’t regretted it for a second,” he said, “although I can’t say the same for my penis. It’s been lonely, to say the least, and there’s only so much I can do with hand lotion and re-watching Van Wilder on cable.”

“That’s so sad.”

“It is,” he said, “but if you know a place nearby that’s private and good at screening awkward noises, I think we can help each other.”

The man leaned in even closer, so much so that she could smell his breath and the manly scent emanating within the costume. It smelled like a mix of tacos, hot sauce, and pure manliness. It proved plenty potent, sending Wendy’s heart and hormones into overdrive.

She’d yet to see the man’s face. She’d yet to even get his name. However, he was dressed as Deadpool, had a clear appreciation of all things Deadpool, and appreciated his mannerisms. On a night when Wendy was determined to celebrate all things Deadpool, the idea of fucking a guy dressed like him just seemed too fitting.

It was reckless, crude, and something Deadpool would totally do. Wendy, feeling adventurous in a way that only Deapdool could inspire, decided to take a chance. After all, she still had plenty of time between now and the movie premier. Why not try to pass the time with a little Deadpool-themed kink?

“As it just so happens,” Wendy said with a seductive glance, “there’s an isolated little nook out back…one only I know about because my uncle trusts me way too damn much.”

“Hmm…that could work,” the man said with growing excitement.

“I’ll take you there under one condition.”

“Name it! And I promise that’s not just my penis talking.”

“You keep that costume on. That includes the mask,” she told him. “Also, I don’t want you to give me your real name or anything. Just let me call you Wade.”

“Keep the costume on, keep my name secret, and let you call me Wade,” he said, pretending to think about it, “all in exchange for some kinky sex. Normally, I would take a moment to pray to the gods of Stan Lee and Rob Liefield for guidance, but I think I’ve got their blessing with this!”

“Good!” she said intently. “Because on a night like this, I intend and expect maximum effort!”

Casting aside all restraint and reservation, Wendy just left a couple twenty-dollar bills under her half-finished coffee before grabbing the man by the arm. Then, with an energy and intent that surprised her more than him, led him out of the bar through the rear entrance. Most customers weren’t allowed back there, but since her Uncle owned the place, she gave her a pass.

The man she now called Wade eagerly followed, staying close by and slipping his gloved hand into her back pocket, giving her butt a firm squeeze. It got her to move a little faster, making her inner thighs feel hotter in the process. Between excitement for a movie and a lengthy sexual drought, her body seemed extra receptive to a little stimulation.

“You’ve got a nice ass,” Wade whispered into her ear as he followed her, “not quite as nice as Ryan Reynolds, but still close.”

“Stay close,” Wendy replied in a lurid tone. “I can use my ass as well as Deadpool uses his guns!”

“A bold claim,” he said. “I’d like to see you prove it!”

“Oh I will!”

Still completely confident, she led Wade down a narrow hall, passing one of the cooks along the way. She ignored the strange look she gave him. She didn’t care if the whole bar saw her slip out. She was going to have sex this man. Then, she was going to see Deadpool 2. By every objective measure, it looked to be a damn good night.

Upon reaching the door, they burst out into the hot mid-May evening. They emerged in a back alley where nobody who wasn’t driving a delivery truck ventured, especially this late in the evening. As soon as the door closed, Wendy turned around and jumped Wade with the same fervor as Vanessa did in the first Deadpool movie.

Wade responded just as favorably, catching her in his arms and leading her back to the wall next to the door. Along the way, she kissed his mask, playfully licking around the mouth area while grinding her body up against his. She could already feel the bulge in his pants growing. She also felt him feel up her curves, squeezing her ass and tracing up along her waist. It got her so hot that her clothes became unbearably itchy.

“Wade…help me get this off,” she said, already breathless as she unzipped her pants.

“Gladly,” he replied.

Kicking off her sandals, not minding the dirty pavement on her feet, Wendy slid her pants down her legs with Wade’s help. In the process, she revealed the Deadpool-themed panties she’d been wearing, complete with an image of Deadpool’s face right over her pussy. She swore she heard Wade giggle.

“Ooh! Those are so cute,” he said to her, his hands already on the side.

“Help me get them off and I’ll let you smell them,” Wendy told him.

“Deal!”

She laughed again, but never lost focus. She slipped out of her panties quickly, leaving her naked from the waist down. As soon as they were off, she let Wade take them, who eagerly put them up to his mask. She watched as he took in a deep whiff, not unlike the one Deadpool did when he smelled his guns.

“Ooh yeah!” he said. “I’m touching myself later.”

“Better make it much later!” said Wendy. “Remember what we discussed about ball-fondling? I’m for it.”

As if to prove her point, she dropped to her knees and grabbed the side of Wade’s pants. By now, the bulge in his pants was pretty big. Getting it off was a bit of a challenge, but after doing the Deadpool-themed belt-buckle, she managed to pull the tight-fitting red pants down to his ankles, along with his boxers.

Much to Wendy’s surprise, the man wearing the suit was very well-endowed. He had the kind of manhood that Deadpool would’ve joked about to no end. At the moment, though, it was no laughing matter. Wendy was horny, excited, and daring. True to her word from earlier, she went to work fondling Wade’s balls and playfully stroking his cock.

“I fully approve…of your position on ball-fondling,” Wade teased.

“That’s not all I’m in favor of,” Wendy said in a lurid tone.

With one hand still cradling his balls, she shot the masked man a kinky glance before taking his dick into her mouth. From there, she began giving him oral sex, channeling her inner Vanessa from the first Deadpool movie. Wendy had given her ex-boyfriend oral sex on multiple occasions, but never with such effort and fervor.

“Holy fuck-knuckles, that’s good!” Wade moaned, still holding her panties to his masked face.

Encouraged, Wendy kept up her oral teasing, using her lips and tongue to full effect. It didn’t take long before Wade was leaning back on the wall for support, running his fingers through her hair with one hand while holding onto her panties with the other.

As she sucked him, Wendy felt her own arousal escalate. At one point, she slipped a free hand between her legs and fingered her vagina to get all the right juices flowing. Before long, she was ready for a new effort.

“Mmm…ready to fuck me, Wade?” she asked seductively after giving his cock one last lick.

“With maximum effort!” Wade replied.

With instinct and reflexes as powerful as Deadpool himself, Wendy shot up from the ground. Wade, seizing the initiative, took her in his arms briefly and turned her around so that she was up against the brick wall, facing away with her heart-shaped ass pointing at him.

His pants still around his ankles and his mask still on, the man she instead on calling Wade grabbed her by the waist and guided his dick into her with a single thrust. He was so hard and she was so wet. Like Deadpool and a young Bea Arthur, their flesh embraced one another.

“Ohhh fuck!” Wendy exclaimed into the humid evening air.

“Fuck…yeah!” Wade grunted.

Wendy’s world began rocking. Wade put in the same effort into fucking her as she had when she gave him oral sex. He was so energetic and thorough, pumping his manly flesh inside her and stimulating her womanly depths with every motion. Wendy bucked her hips with every thrust, leaning harder against the brick wall. It didn’t matter that it was dirty and reckless. They were just that excited about Deadpool 2.

He fucked her nice and hard in that position, his pelvis rhythmically smacking against her putt with each thrust. At one point, he grasped her but with one hand and reached up her shirt with the other, pulling down her bra and feeling one of her breasts. That added an extra bit of sensation to their sex. Wendy loved it and craved more.

“Harder, Wade! Fuck me harder!” she cried out.

“Nice boobs…hot pussy…super penis…I fucking love it!” Wade said.

They kept going at it, moaning and grunting in the dirty nook behind her Uncle’s bar. Somewhere along the way, he pulled out and turned her around so that she could jump him again, throwing her legs around her waist so he could fuck her just like Wade fucked Venassa in the first movie. Wendy eagerly embraced the opportunity.

Her back now against the wall, her breasts hanging out of her top, Wade held her legs up as he guided his dick back into her and resumed their sex. She held onto his shoulders as their bodies rocked to the rhythm. Wendy found herself gazing intensely into the masked face before her. Whether by fluke or kink, looking at it just made her hotter and pushed her faster towards her peak.

The sex was so intense and driven. In that moment, she wasn’t just fucking some random guy in a Deadpool costume. She was actually fucking Deadpool. He was Ryan Reyonld and she was Morena Baccarin. He was Wade Wilson and she was Vanessa. That thought, along with the steady onslaught of sexual sensations, brought her to the brink of orgasm.

“Ohhh I’m coming, Wade! I’m coming!” she cried out.

“Ooh yeah! Me too,” he grunted. “Fuck, I’m going to pop my fucking load in you!”

“Do it, Wade! I want to feel your Deadpool-loving cum inside me!”

That was probably the most vulgar thing she’d ever said during sex, even while drunk. Wendy didn’t care. She was loving it too damn much. It was just too damn fun.

After a few more powerful thrusts that tested her flexibility, and other various aspects of female anatomy, Wendy came hard. She came so hard that she scratched her nails down over the seams of the mask, tearing through parts of the fabric in the process. Her toes curled, her lower back arched, and her core was set ablaze with a fiery surge of pleasure.

As that feeling engulfed her, Wade let out a labored grunt of his own, tightening his hold on her butt as he steadied his hips in anticipation of his release. She then felt his dick throb inside her pussy, his manly juices mixing with hers.

In that moment of shared, Deadpool-driven ecstasy, she kissed the masked men with passion, knowing that she’d achieved something once deemed impossible. She found a way to make Deadpool even more awesome.

“Fuck yeah,” Wendy said in her orgasmic daze. “Now that’s what I call maximum effort!”

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“The Gardener” A Sexy Sort Story

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The following is a sexy short story entitled “The Gardener.” Now that it’s spring and people are starting to do yard work again, I felt inspired to put a sexy spin on it. Personally, I’m not big on gardening, but I can easily see it having a certain kind of sex appeal. That’s what this story celebrates. Enjoy!

“Don’t forget to clean the upstairs bathroom!” yelled an impatient voice from downstairs. “Just because you’re home for the week doesn’t mean I’m cleaning your soap scum!”

“Yes, mother,” replied an annoyed Heather Ryan.

“And be sure to vacuum your bedroom while you’re at it!” she added. “You father and I worked hard to keep your old room organized. Don’t make us do it again!”

Heather felt like banging her head on the nearest brick wall. It was her first day home from college – the first day of spring break, no less – and already she longed for another mid-term. It was hard enough with most of her friends were taking trips to the beach or camping upstate. Being stuck at home made it feel less like a vacation and more like a chore.

“Chores,” Heather groaned, “they never end because things always get dirty.”

Slumping down in her chair at the desk next to her bed, she was already dreading the rest of her week. She’d arrived home from college late last night, carrying two large suitcases of dirty clothes, one of which got soaked because it had been raining. Her parents were glad to see her for about five minutes before they started giving her crap for tracking mud into the foyer.

She should’ve been used to it, by now. Since she was a kid, her parents had been neat freaks. She and her two younger siblings, Kevin and Joan, learned from an early age that cleanliness was a priority in their house. That didn’t just mean cleaning up after themselves. That meant doing the necessary chores and doing them on time. Failure to do so would result in more chores of increasing drudgery.

It never seemed to end. She almost envied her two younger siblings, who were still in high school and got to spend a chunk of their day out of the house and away from all the chores. With her dad working late at his law firm, her mother expected her to share the workload. It promised to turn Spring Break into an extended chore.

As Heather dreaded the work her mother had in store, her gaze drifted towards the window overlooking the back yard of her parents’ two-story home. After the rain last night, the sun had come out and the warm spring air had rolled in. She wished she could appreciate it, but all it did was remind her that her friends were probably laying on the beach, working on a tan.

“I miss winter already,” Heather said to herself. “At that way, my mom wouldn’t try to stick me with yard work. I’m almost afraid to go outside.”

She sighed to herself and got up to close the blinds, if only to help her fight the temptation. Then, just over the fence and into her neighbor’s yard, something caught her eye that tempted her in a very different way.

“Oh my sweet Lord,” she gasped. “I’m officially unafraid.”

Suddenly, Heather was grateful for the warm spring weather. Out in the backyard of her neighbors, she saw a very handsome, very shirtless young man working in a garden. He was tall, tanned, and well-muscled. He definitely worked outside often and, if the way he handled that shovel were any indication, he was very comfortable working on a hot spring day. However, his muscles and his stature were not his most attractive features.

The man was so unkempt and disheveled. He had messy, mid-length hair that no barber had touched in at least a year. He had a grizzled, unshaven face that hadn’t felt a razor blade in at least a month. Heather swore she could smell the sweat and the dirt on his flesh through her window. It was enough to trigger a little spring-time heat-wave between her legs.

“It’s half-past-ten and he’s already hard at work,” Heather mused, “hard, dirty work.”

She said that in the tone of a woman who hadn’t had sex since she broke up with her boyfriend eight months ago. In that time, she’d been on a handful of dates that ended uneventfully or in disaster. It made for a lot of lonely nights, especially during the winter and whenever her roommate snuck over to her boyfriend’s dorm.

However, the memory of those nights quickly faded as she watched the man work. He was shoveling a large pile of mulch into a sizable garden in the corner of the back yard. There were already several large plants in place so he must have already done the dirtiest work, getting on his knees and really sifting through the mud. Just picturing him doing that made her panties feel moist.

It was at that moment when Heather remembered that the neighbors she had in the fall had moved out shortly before she left for college. She also recalled that the house next door had been for sale when she came home for the holidays. That meant the handsome young man had come with her new neighbors and she hadn’t been around to introduce herself.

Suddenly, she had an excuse to go outside and risk her mother sticking her with more chores. The more she watched the handsome man work, the more willing she felt to take that chance.

“A handsome, hard-working new neighbor,” Heather said, not even trying to hide the sexual undertones in her voice. “I might as well go introduce myself.”

With a mischievous grin, she got up from her desk, put on a pair of sandals, and rushed downstairs, avoiding her mother, who was busy in the basement. She didn’t bother changing out of the denim shorts and tank top she’d worn yesterday. For once, she wasn’t going to worry about being clean and presentable, like her parents always told her. For a stranger, who happened to be a handsome man, Heather sought to present herself in a different way.

As soon as she stepped outside, the hot, muggy spring air hit her on all sides. Heather could already hear her parents yelling at her to take off her sandals, keep the doors closed, and shower before dinner. She shut all that out, focusing only on the handsome, disheveled man next door.

The heat and humidity must have already gotten to her because she didn’t bother just peaking over the fence, admiring the handsome man from afar. She was a young, single college woman who had to endure a week at home with her uptight parents. She was not going to waste an opportunity like this.

“Someone’s getting an early start this morning,” Heather greeted as she casually walked along the short wooden fence. “Is this how you start every Monday morning, stranger?”

The man, apparently caught off guard by her presence, almost dropped the shovel as he turned around. Up close, she could already see dirt and mud stains on his jeans. That only made him hotter in your eyes.

“Uh…good morning to you too, ma’am,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ve met.”

“You’re right. We haven’t and that’s just rude of me,” Heather said playfully. “I’m Heather, the rowdy college girl that my parents probably didn’t mention when they introduced themselves.”

“You’re part of the Ryan family?” he said, sounding intrigued. “Funny, they did mention having an older daughter in college. I don’t remember them saying much about her…or about how rowdy she was.”

“Trust me, that part was implied.”

“Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

The handsome man smiled at her and she smiled back. He seemed intrigued. That was a promising sign. Most girls her age didn’t admit to being rowdy. That usually evoked too many dirty thoughts in young, straight men. Heather dared to be unusual. It helped that she actually wanted him to think those thoughts.

Setting aside the shovel, he walked up to her and leaned on the fence. As he got closer, Heather sweat on his body made him glow under the morning sun. His messy hair, his messy beard, and even the hair on his chest radiated a thick, sweaty musk. Her parents would’ve been aghast at such a smell. Heather found it utterly intoxicating.

“The name’s Mark,” he said to her, “the youngest, but most experience member of the Truman family clan.”

“Experienced, huh?” Heather said, leaning over the fence with a flirtatious glance. “That how you describe your gardening skill?”

“I like to think I’ve got more skills than that, but I guess this is counts as one of them.”

“I’m sure you’ve got plenty, but this one really shows. The last set of neighbors let most of their backyard turn into a mud pit.”

“Yeah, my folks and I noticed that too. We knew this place needed a lot of work when we moved in. Lucky for us, we ain’t afraid to work. My dad’s a mechanic and my mom is a vet. We know the value of getting our hands dirty.”

“Dirty indeed,” said Heather.

She might have been too flirtatious with that remark. Mark almost seemed amused, but didn’t mind when she got a little closer, giving her another whiff of the distinct odor that could only come from a hard-working man. It was dirty, but so strong. If she hadn’t been leaning on the fence, she doubted her legs would’ve supported her.

“Well, it’s good to finally meet you,” said Mark before the silence got too awkward. “You home for the week or something?”

“Yep!” Heather affirmed. “I’m on Spring Break. Most of my friends are off on vacation or at the beach. I’m stuck at home the entire time.”

“Funny, you don’t sound too upset about that.”

“Believe me, I was…until a few minutes ago when I saw you.”

“You don’t say?” he said with even more intrigue. “Well, I’m glad I could make your break a little better. I’m also glad I finally met someone my own age in this neighborhood. Seems like the only people in this neighborhood are young kids or grumpy adults.”

“Guess we’re somewhat even,” said Heather. “You’ll find plenty of people our age around here, but in a neighborhood like this, you won’t find many who will get their hands dirty…not if they have the money to pay other people to do it.”

“That’s too bad,” he said. “I work in my dad’s garage and clean up after my mom’s dogs. I’m dirty 90 percent of the time. Think that’s gonna cause problems?”

“With some people, it may. With others…well, they might prefer you stay as dirty as you damn well please.”

Hoping her flirtatious undertone had gotten her point across, Heather decided to take another risk. She reached over and lightly trailed her fingers up his arms, feeling the sweat and grime from all the dirt along the way. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the smile on his face widened. It was as though no one had ever appreciated his willingness to get dirty.

Now standing so close, able to feel the heat from his body over that of the morning son, she leaned in a little closer. Mark leaned in as well, his gaze on her become more focused. All the effort and toil must have really got his blood flowing because she could feel him undressing her with his eyes. In the muggy spring heat, she didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Ms. Ryan,” said Mark, again avoiding too awkward a silence.

“Heather,” she said. “We’re not a dinner party or a ball. You can call me Heather.”

“Okay, Heather,” he said. “I’m still new in town and I left a lot of stuff behind up state.”

“By chance, was one of those things a girlfriend?”

“As a matter of fact…yeah, that was a big thing,” he said. “In fact, it was bigger than I thought it would be…coming to a new town, starting over, and not having anyone besides my folks to help me adjust. I guess you could say busting my butt in a garage, a garden, or anywhere else I can get my hands dirty is how I’ve been coping.”

“That’s sad, but noble as hell,” Heather said. “There are way worse ways a handsome young guy like you could handle himself in a new town.”

“I like to think I’ve done things the right way so far.”

With every word he said, Mark Truman just kept getting sexier and sexier. Not only did he get his hands dirty, but he was a genuinely good guy who had to deal with the decisions his parents made for him. A man like that didn’t deserve to be alone when adjusting to a new neighborhood.

At the same time, she needed a man like that…one who was good, but still embodied had traits completely unlike her parents or the rest of the neighborhood. He was unlike any of the other men she’d dated or been around. He might not recoil at the idea of sticking his hands in the mud. That made Heather certain of her desires. She was going to hook up with this man.

“Well, Mr. Truman – or Mark, if that’s what you want me to call you,” she said in an outright seductive tone, “if you’re looking for another way to cope, I think I could help.”

“That’s mighty generous of you,” Mark said, his grin widening even more.

“It might be a little more wrong than right, depending on your point of view,” she added, “but if you’re willing to get just a little dirtier with a girl who may or may not have a thing for that…”

She let her words trail off so that Mark could fill in the blanks. Looking to guide him, she playfully trailed her finger up his arms, over the sinews of his biceps, and onto his exposed chest, not minding the sweat or dirt for a second. She must have come off as overly eager, a horny young woman who just needed a good humping. That could either completely dissuade him or seal the deal.

He seemed inclined towards the latter, his gaze narrowing on her as she lightly pawed his chest. From there, it didn’t take long for him to fill in the blanks. Leaning in closer, so much so that she could feel his hot breath on her face, he reached up and caressed her face with his dirty hands. His touch set her inner thighs ablaze, making her even more eager to get dirty with him.

“I never shy away from dirty work,” Mark said to her, “especially when it involves a pretty girl.”

“Then, I’ll skip the part where I ask how comfortable you are around girls like me,” said Heather, “and I’ll just ask where the nearest private space is.”

“Well…depending on how dirty you’re willing to get, the shed is closer than the garage.”

“Oh trust me, I’m that willing!”

To assure him there were no doubts in her mind, Heather kissed him hard on the lips. She didn’t care that his face was unshaven or that his hair was greasy. If anything, that turned her on even more, prompting her to put a little tongue into it. That sent a clear message. She wanted him. She wanted to be taken by a dirty, sweaty man in a dirty, confined shed.

Mark got that message loud and clear. He eagerly kissed back, wrapping his powerful arms around her and pulling her closer to his body. She already could feel he wanted her too, the hard work making him deserving of a fitting reward. Heather wanted to be that reward…the kind that made the dirt, sweat, and toil feel worth it.

“Mark…take me,” she gasped in between the kisses.

Before he could even respond, Heather scaled the waist-high fence, not leaving his arms for a second in the process. Once over, he caught her and pulled her into a deeper embrace. Almost immediately, Heather felt his sweat stain her shirt. That didn’t bother her in the slightest, though. That just gave her all the more incentive to get them off.

“The shed…that way,” Mark said.

“Lead the way!” Heather eagerly replied.

Already drunk on his touch and his sweaty musk, she pounced on him, jumping up into his grasp and throwing her legs around her waist. She even lost her sandals in the process, but she didn’t care. She was in Mark’s arms, eager to follow his desires as well as her own.

With the same strength he’d used to tend his garden, Mark held her up by her butt and carried her over to the shed that was adjacent to the garden. They kissed every step of the way, their tongues aggressively entwined with lust. Upon entering, he closed the door behind them, leaving them in a dirty, confined, poorly lit space. From her point of view, it was the hottest setting they could’ve been in.

“Off! Get it off!” Heather said desperately, already trying to remove her shirt.

Mark set her on a work bench in the corner of the shed, covered in dust and littered with rusty tools. The ambience just kept getting hotter by the second.

Once in place, their lips briefly parted so she could remove her shirt up over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra so she made sure Mark got a good look at her exposed breasts. He clearly liked what he saw and hungrily grasped them with both hands.

“Nice tits,” he said in a lecherous tone.

“Go on. Touch them with your dirty hands,” Heather said, emphasizing the dirty part.

As Mark fondled her breasts, she skillfully undid her denim shorts and took them off, panties and all. Now fully nude, she felt the heat, grime, and humidity on her exposed flesh. By her parents’ rigid standards, she was filthy. Instead of feeling wrong, though, it felt so right…right and sexy.

Mark, showing more excitement in the presence of a naked woman, smothered her with his lustful touch. As he felt over her breasts, hips, and butt, he kissed her again, the raw hunger in his every touch hinting at a growing desire. Heather sought to match that hunger every step of the way, throwing in some intimate touching of her own, which eventually led her to the growing bulge in his pants.

“Pants…off,” she managed to get out in between wrestling tongues.

He couldn’t comply fast enough, undoing his belt buckle and kicking off his boots. Heather did the rest, undoing his jeans and pushing them down, along with his underwear to reveal a semi-erect cock. Like the rest of his body, it looked so strong and rugged, emanating an intensely masculine aura. Heather wanted nothing more than to have it inside her.

She made that desire clear, reaching out and grasping it with both hands as they continued kissing. Mark let out a deep moan, her touch inspiring even more lust. Before long, his dick was fully erect, the air around them ablaze with shared desire. It was already a hot, muggy spring day. Together, they were going to make it hotter.

“Heather…you ready?” he said, already breathless as their lips party.

“Ready to get hot, sweaty, and dirty as hell!” Heather told him.

Grinning at her choice of words, Mark shifted those filthy hands of his down to her hips, pulling her forward so that she sat on the edge of the work bench. As he positioned himself closer, she hooked her legs around his waist and grabbed onto his shoulders. Then, once his manly flesh was aligned with her hot opening, he thrust his hips forward and entered her.

“Ohhh yes!” Heather cried out. “Give it to me, Mark. Give me that dirty cock!”

Mark responded with a determined grunt, not unlike the one she’d heard earlier while he was shoveling mulch. With the same grit that he’d shown with his garden, he fucked her. He did it with raw strength and power, rocking her body with every movement. It forced her to cling harder to his shoulders, gasping every time she his member probed her deepest depths.

With each labored motion, a sharp surge of sensations followed. The heat, the sweat, and the desire morphed into pleasure…raw, unfiltered pleasure. It unleashed in Heather a kind of pent up energy that she didn’t know she had.

“Yes! Oh yes!” she exclaimed. “Mark…so strong…so dirty. Ooh I love it!”

“Ohhh Heather!” Mark moaned.

Their sex took on a distinctly messy rhythm, which felt all too appropriate. They were doing it on a dirty table within a dirty shed on a hot, sticky day in spring. Everything about it defied the conventions of cleanliness that had been instilled in Heather since birth. Somehow, that made for the hottest sex she’d ever had.

Through the intense exertion, she worked up a sweat of her own. Before long, her naked skin glistened with the same dirty glow as Mark. Her sweat soon mixed with his, allowing their bodies to glide and slither together more effortlessly. His hands more wildly roamed all over her body, feeling her up from her thighs to her breasts to her face. She did the same, raking her nails over his back and trailing her fingers over the manly sinews of his upper body.

She fueled his intense desire just as much as he fueled hers. There was nothing careful or reserved about it. She was just as willing to put in the work in pursuit of a greater reward. During that pursuit, their bodies shifted chaotically in the heat of their vigorous sex. At one point, she hitched both legs up over his shoulders so he could fuck her at a different angle. At another, he held her up in his arms and bounced her along his cock.

Eventually, Heather found herself bent over the work bench, her breasts and face pressed up against the dusty wood as Mark fucked her from behind. She was almost at her peak, holding onto the sides of the table for dear life. Mark was close too. She could tell by how each movement got more steady and targeted. If they were going to share in the work, then they might as well share in its fruits.

“Mark…I’m close. I’m so…so close!” Heather moaned.

“Me too, Heather! Just a little…bit longer!” he said in between grunts.

The next few moments were a test of endurance, albeit in the best possible way. Heather closed her eyes, focusing on the heat, scent, and grime around her. It was all associated with one man…the strong, hard-working man having sex with her. Together, they got dirty in the most rewarding way possible.

Finally, after a few more labored thrusts, Mark sent her over the edge. In an instant, the heat around her turned into a seas of ecstasy in which she became fully immersed. Throwing her head back, Heather let out a cry that reverberated throughout the confined shed. Intense, throbbing sensations of pleasure surged through her like an erupting volcano. It effectively completed the hard, dirty work.

Her orgasmic bliss soon became Mark’s. As her pussy throbbed around his rigid cock, he crossed that threshold as well, letting out a deep moan that complemented her blissful cries perfectly. She could actually feel his manhood tensing within her as it released its seminal load inside her. It was so raw and dirty, which made her love it even more.

“Heather…so hot,” Mark said breathlessly.

“Mark…so dirty,” she replied.

Their ability to form words failed them. That didn’t stop her from rising up from the dirty table and turning her head so he could kiss her again. That told him everything she wanted to say and then some.

For a moment, they just lingered in one another’s naked, sweaty embrace. Eventually, his body parted from hers, but they remained in each other’s arms, still immersed in the muggy ambience of their grasp.

“I’m starting to think I’ll like it here in this neighborhood,” Mark said as he affectionately caressed the side of her back.

“And I’m starting to think my Spring Break won’t suck anymore,” Heather said.

They each laughed and shared another playful kiss, not caring for a second as their sweat, grime, and various bodily fluids continued to mix. There was something liberating about it and it wasn’t just a byproduct of the afterglow either.

Heather had lived much of her life in a world where so many things had to be clean. Hard, gritty work was somehow unappealing and to be avoided at all costs. By getting dirty with Mark – literally and figuratively, no less – she discovered that there was value to that work. It didn’t just turn her on. It inspired real passion…a kind that only a uniquely special men could appreciate.

Whatever else Spring Break had in store for her, she was already convinced that Mark was just that special.

“You know, at some point we’re still going to have to get cleaned up,” Mark reminded her.

“I know,” said Heather curtly while running her hand through his greasy hair. “That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy being dirty a little longer.”

“Well, I guess it helps when you’ve got someone to share it with.”

“Definitely!” she said with a beaming grin. “After all, how can you appreciate being clean if you don’t let yourself get a little dirty once in a while?”

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Before The Prom” A Sexy Short Story

valentines-day-couple-kissing-photos-9

The following a short story called “Before The Prom.” With prom season just around the corner and all the raging hormones that come with it, I felt inspired to craft a steamy little story to get everyone in the spirit, so to speak. Enjoy!

“How about another smile the happy couple?” said Rod Richter’s enthusiastic mother.

“Promise this is the last one?” said Rod. “My jaw muscles can only take so much.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Sherry Hopkins, his girlfriend and prom date. “You smile more when Coach Whitman cancels track practice.”

“You’re not helping, Sherry,” he said while still smiling for the camera.

It was a momentous, but tedious moment, at least for parents. Rod was about to go to his senior prom. Finals were over. College applications had been submitted and acceptance letters had been received. The hardest, most stressful parts of high school were almost over. He and everyone else at Grovesberg High School had earned one night of fun and partying.

Despite the annoyance he felt from his parents’ wanting a picture from every possible angle, he still smiled and held his girlfriend close. He and Sherry had already been through this with her parents when he picked her up. He barely had any time to admire the beautiful black dress she’d bought or the fresh highlights she’d put in her hair. Both their parents still tried to make it about them.

“Don’t worry. The wait will be worth it,” she’d told him.

 “I sure hope so,” Rod replied.

“I know so. I promise!”

She sounded so certain. Then again, Sherry had always been the confident, self-assured type. That was part of what attracted him to her. She was actually the friend of a friend of his older sister, Dina. They’d crossed path a few times during their junior year. Then, right around the holidays during a big get-together with his sister’s friends, they found each other. Everything after that had been textbook teenage puppy love.

However, Rod hoped to push their relationship to the next level. Tonight was their senior prom, the last hurrah before they finalized their college plans. What happened tonight might very well decide whether they go their separate ways or see if they could be something more.

Looking at Sherry as the flash from his mother’s phone went off, he still wasn’t sure whether how deep his feelings went for her. When she looked at him with those intense, yet passionate eyes, it made him shudder in the best possible way. He smiled back at her, holding her a little closer and feeling that tone, fit body that had made her a track star last spring. He hoped to know that body more intimately before the night was over.

First, though, he had to escape his parents’ scrutiny. With the sun having just set, his mother finally relented.

“That’s the last one,” his mother said.

“You sure this time?” Rod asked half-jokingly.

“Positive!” she affirmed. “It’s time. You’re free to go, my youngest son.”

“You’re not going to get dramatic on me, are you? We already got that with Sherry’s mom.”

“And I’m not even the youngest,” Sherry added.

“I’m trying not to, but I can’t help it. My baby’s off to his senior prom and I can’t keep calling him a baby much longer.”

Rod rolled his eyes, but hugged his mother anyway, which earned him a look of approval from Sherry. She’d gone through the same thing with her mother, struggling to process the idea that her teenage kid wasn’t a kid anymore. She got over it enough to let them leave. Now, it was her mother’s turn.

After an extended hug, Rod rejoined Sherry and made their way to his car, which he had washed, gassed up, and ready for an eventful night. His dad had even put a prom poster on the back just under the rear window. He didn’t get as emotional as his mother, but the two beers he’d drank hinted that he felt it too.

“Have a great time, you two,” his father said.

“We will, Mr. Richter!” Sherry said as she excitedly clang to his arm.

“And son…be careful,” his father added.

“I will, dad,” Rod said as he waved goodbye.

“I mean it, Roddy. Be careful,” he said, this time with a suggestive subtext.

Rod bit his lip and faked a smile. He even noticed a snicker from Sherry. She’d picked up on it too. He wished she hadn’t, but it was hard to ignore, even from his parents.

While his mother seemed perfectly content ignoring the implications, his father had already given him the proverbial talk. He said he’d been young once too. He knew what happened between couples at the prom. Rod didn’t ask for details, but he got them anyway and had been trying to forget them ever since.

He opted not to dwell on them and focus on Sherry, who didn’t seem to hold his father’s comments against him. She kept on smiling, even as he opened the passenger door to his car and let her in like a true gentleman. He waved goodbye to his parents one last time, ignoring eye contact with his dad, before finally driving off towards the Maple Resort Hotel where the prom was being held.

“That…was more intense than I thought,” said Rod, shortly after they pulled away.

“Were you expecting them to not care that their handsome son is going to prom with a beautiful girl in a $400 dress?”

“That would’ve been easier,” he joked.

“But it would’ve undercut the importance of this night,” she said, “and I know as well as you just how important it is.”

There was a subtext in her tone as well, but it wasn’t nearly as lurid as his father’s had been. Sherry might have been a fun-loving, energetic girl, but she could be serious when necessary. In fact, it was when she was serious that he saw her most attractive traits.

“We’ve been planning this for weeks,” Sherry said to him as he drove. “We laid out everything we wanted to go right and agreed on the things we didn’t want to screw up. We went in on a hotel suite, got intel on the chaperones, and even made plans in case Mike and Joel tried to pull another one of their pranks.”

“I’m pretty sure I threatened them and their ancestors to restrain themselves, this time,” said Rod. “I sure as hell hope they got the message.”

“Beyond just having a good time, we also made more intimate plans. Since your father made it so awkward for us and my dad could barely make eye-contact, I won’t say those plans out loud.”

Rod gripped the wheel tighter as memories of that conversation came rushing back. He hadn’t made it a secret, how much he wanted her. She sent some pretty clear signals as well. In fact, the night they first got together, she let him feel her up when she hadn’t been wearing a bra. Sherry was not at all shy about sharing herself with others.

However, as fun as that moment had been, it was as far as they went and for good reason. Sherry wasn’t a virgin. He’d known that before they started dating. He also knew that her first time hadn’t been very memorable. She said it wasn’t painful or anything, but for all the expectations she’d had with her first boyfriend, it really fell short.

“I thought I did everything I had to do to make my first time great. Turns out, I overdid it,” she’d told him.

Rod understood, more so than he wish he did. His first time hadn’t been that memorable, either. His last girlfriend, Connie Bridges, was a sweet girl with a great personality, but she was a real micromanager when it came to certain aspects of her life. That included sex.

He could laugh to himself about it now, but it was not very funny or sexy at the time. She tried to dictate every position and movement, as though she somehow knew what good sex was. Being so nervous and so horny, it was more nerve-racking than enjoyable. He barely remembered getting off, let alone feeling that intimate. Connie still acted as though they’d done everything right, which contributed to their eventual breakup.

Rod didn’t want that with Sherry. Looking over at her as the car stopped at a traffic signal, he saw a young woman who cared about his desires too. She didn’t mind kissing, hugging, and sharing dirty texts in the middle of the night. She let him express certain feelings that he couldn’t express with anyone else. She’d been so good to him, which was a big reason why he didn’t complain when she said she wanted to hold off on getting sexual.

“Yeah, it’s probably for the best,” he’d said. “Better to wait for the right time than mess up what we have.”

Rod said those words to her barely a week after they’d gotten together. At the time, he didn’t know if Sherry would just be a quick fling or something serious. Now, she was his senior prom date. He didn’t know how much more serious they could get.

“I still want to see those plans through,” Rod said to her as he waited for the light to turn green, “including the intimate ones.”

“Me too,” said Sherry, leaning over and clinging to his arm. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about it…among other things.”

“Same here,” he admitted, “and believe me, thinking only goes so far.”

“You’ve got an internet connection and a Playboy poster in your bedroom, Rod. I never assumed you’d live the life of a monk while we made these plans.”

“I appreciate that,” he said with a bemused grin, “but those plans still have merit. You didn’t hide how disappointing your first time was. I didn’t hide the dirty details of mine either.”

“To be fair, yours weren’t that dirty,” she teased. “Connie just found a way to make a sexy moment dull, which is a hell of an accomplishment.”

“And one I don’t care to repeat,” Rod went on. “I care about you, Sherry. I really do. I’ve also seen my friends – and even some of yours, mind you – screw their personal lives with sex.”

“You don’t have to name names. I know who you’re talking about.”

“They don’t plan it out. They don’t talk about it. They just act and think that’s all there is to it. Then, they’re still surprised when they’re disappointed.”

“And you don’t want that for us,” she said in a more serious tone.

“Hell no!” he said without hesitation. “If we’re gonna do it, let’s at least make it a strength and not a complication. That’s why we made these all these plans in the first place…to see if sex can show us just how good we can be together, beyond the prom.”

There was a brief silence. For a moment, Rod thought he’d said too much. Much to his relief, though, Sherry just smiled back and gave him an affectionate kiss.

“Oh Rod…that might be the sweetest thing a horny guy has ever said to me,” said Sherry.

“Uh…you’re welcome,” he said, now blushing profusely.

Rod got a little more serious than he’d intended. He wasn’t usually the type to get that personal, even with his girlfriend. Since it was prom night, he made an exception and Sherry seemed to appreciate. The way she clung to his arm made his heart race with anticipation on what the night held.

He probably would’ve kept going with his personal ramblings, but thankfully, the light turned green and they drove on. Sherry remained close. He still felt her penetrating gaze on him, which made the air around him feel several degrees hotter. For an anxious teenage guy in a rented tuxedo, that was not a pleasant feeling, but he endured. Sherry was worth it.

After driving down the North Valley Parkway for a couple miles, he turned onto one of the back roads that he often used to cut through to the downtown area. It was heavily wooded and near a golf course that had been closed for renovations for the past several months. Other than parking lots and gated areas, it was probably the quietest place in the county.

There wasn’t much traffic and cutting through meant getting to the hotel earlier and ahead of their friends. If they were going to get to those intimate plans, then they might as well get a head start. The more Rod thought about it, the more he wanted to see them through. Being so close to Sherry, that beautiful black dress hugging her body, really tested his hormones and his patience.

“Hey Rod,” said Sherry, “can I ask you one thing before we get too deep into plans and prom spirits?”

“Of course,” Rod said without hesitation, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Say we make all these plans and follow them to the letter,” she said. “We do everything we set out to do, right down to the sexy stuff. If, after all that, it ends up being this amazing, passionate, and deeply satisfying experience…would that make us the kind of couple who don’t forget each other as soon as we graduate?”

“If it’s that good?” he said with a laugh. “Hell, that wouldn’t just make us that couple. That would make this the greatest prom of all time.”

He made it sound so logical and it was. If their plans worked out and they had the kind of sex they both wanted, then Rod could easily see himself being with Sherry beyond this night, high school, and maybe even beyond that. The way he saw it, if two horny teenagers could find a way to enjoy sex after the disappointing first times they had, then that was a sign that they had something special.

Logic or not, Rod soon sensed a shift in Sherry’s demeanor. Her penetrating gaze narrowed on him. A strange smile formed on her face. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but tried to keep his eyes on the road.

Then, just as they neared a particularly sharp turn, Sherry reached over, grabbed his thigh, and leaned in.

“Rod, there’s an empty parking lot just up ahead. Pull into it,” she said to him in the deepest, sexiest voice he’d ever heard outside a computer screen.

“Uh…what?” said Rod, almost losing control of the steering wheel.

“You heard what I said. Pull over. Find some place quiet and private. I want to skip a few parts of our plan.”

His heart rate spiked. His entire body broke out into a sudden sweat, making his tux feeling unbearably itchy. For a second, he thought he was fantasizing…that he’d just imagined Sherry telling the more impulsive parts of his brain just what he wanted to hear. When he felt her hand grip his thigh, causing his pants to tighten almost immediately, he was convinced. This was real.

“Sherry…” Rod began, his brain and his hormones now locked in conflict.

“I know what I said, Rod,” she said, stopping him before he could overthink. “I want to do it. I want you to pull over and have sex with me in this car…on prom night…before we even get to the prom.”

Rod opened his mouth to respond. Then, Sherry trailed her hand up his thigh and over the front of his pants where a bulge was already forming. As soon as he felt her touch, that sealed the choice for him.

“Fuck it,” he said, “if you’re sure you want this…”

“I’m sure,” Sherry said before he could finish.

“Then, I want it too. God, I want it even more than I thought.”

Before he could overthink the situation, he pumped the breaks on his car and pulled into the dirt road that led to the parking lot near the top of a hill, causing the tires to skid and the transmission to screech. It was a bumpy ride, but that did little to dissuade him or Sherry. If anything, it excited him.

The parking lot was small and heavily screened by trees. It was where the golf carts were usually stored when the course was in operation. Since the renovations began, it had been a just a storage area lined with metal trailers and large dumpsters. In terms of privacy and isolation, it was perfect.

“Over there!” Sherry said, pointing out a secluded space near a storage trailer.

“I see it,” said Rod, gripping the steering wheel firmly.

He couldn’t park his car fast enough, slamming on the breaks and stopping it just under an oversized oak tree. He didn’t care that it was crooked. He just needed to get his girlfriend in the back seat and out of these itchy prom clothes.

Before he even turned the engine off, Sherry had undone her seatbelt and began crawling into the back seat. In the process, Rod got a peak of her underwear. He swore he could smell the arousal between her thighs through the muggy spring air. It was more than enough to send his hormones and his desires into overdrive.

“We’re really going to do it. Sherry and I are going to have sex.”

That thought kept playing out in his mind, overwriting all others as he turned off the engine and joined his girlfriend in the back seat. While they’d both planned this, Rod didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. The way he saw it, they weren’t throwing out the plan. They were just rearranging it.

“Hurry up, Rod!” she urged him as he stumbled into the back. “Don’t make me wait a second longer than I have to!”

“You won’t,” Rod said with more confidence than he’d had at any point in his life.

As he sought her intimate grasp, Rod kicked his loafers off and threw off his jacket. Sherry kicked off her shoes as well and was already unzipping the back part of her dress. Before they could get too ahead of themselves, though, he took her in his arms around her and kissed her. That sweet, romantic kiss he thought he’d save for their last dance of the night…it became an afterthought as his entire world now revolved around making love to Sherry.

“Mmm…Rod,” said Sherry, eagerly kissing back.

“Sherry,” Rod gasped upon tasting her lips.

It was so sweet and not just because of the expensive lipstick she wore. Kissing Sherry had always had a special feel to it, more so now than ever. He wasn’t just going to savor it. He was going to let it guide him into giving his girl the kind of sex she deserved.

The kissing, along with the embrace, quickly turned into a fervent make-out session. He and Sherry had enjoyed many such sessions, but none so heated. He could already feel the air in the car getting hotter as their lips twirled and their hands hungrily roamed. Sherry had already hitched her legs around his waist, grasping at his neck while he trailed his hand up her waist.

He could feel in her more than just arousal. There was a desire in her touch…a sincere, genuine desire that went beyond the basic need for sex.

“She wants me as much as I want her. God help me, I want to give her everything she deserves.”

Fueled by this desire, more clothes came off. Sherry made quick work of the bow-tie that took him five tries to get right before rapidly undoing the buttons to his dress shirt. Rod kept up, reaching behind and unzipping her dress the rest of the way. Once his shirt had been undone and her dress sufficiently loosened, they broke the embrace.

“Off! Get them off!” Sherry said with growing urgency.

He didn’t need that much incentive, but he took it anyway. While out of his girlfriend’s embrace, he practically threw off his dress shirt and the undershirt as well. Sherry did the same, pushing her dress down her body and tossing it over the passenger’s seat.

The first thing Rod noticed after that was that Sherry hadn’t been wearing a bra. She now wore only a pair of black lace panties, matching the style of her dress. While he had seen her breasts before, and even touched them, such a sexy sight sent him into a daze.

“That dress…didn’t do justice to your tits,” Rod said in a goofy tone.

“Stop staring and get those pants off, handsome!” Sherry said.

As eager and horny as Rod felt, that proved easier said than done. Moving around in the confined space was difficult, but Sherry made it easier. While he tried to stand up to undo his belt, Sherry reached over and did most of the work, undoing the zipper and pulling the neatly-pressed slacks down his legs along with his boxers.

By the time his dick popped free from its confines, it was already semi-hard and growing harder by the second. As soon as Sherry saw it, her face lit up like a kid on Christmas.

“Ooh Rod!” she said seductively. “Those pants didn’t do justice to your dick.”

“Very funny…and sexy, too,” Rod teased upon kicking off his pants. “Now, lay back and get those panties off!”

Mirroring the same urgent tone she’d used on him, Sherry did so without hesitation. Leaning back so that her head rested on the side door, she gave herself room to lift her hips and slide her panties down her thighs. Around halfway, Rod grabbed them and pulled them off, leaving his girlfriend and his prom date completely naked.

“Sherry…you’re so beautiful,” he said in a horny daze.

“And you’re so strong,” Sherry said with lust in her eyes, “so willing to work with me and be with me.”

“Worth it!”

They embraced and kissed again, prompting another make-out session that quickly evolved into full-fledged foreplay. This time, their naked bodies were unobstructed and unabated, her feminine curves meshing with his manly sinews. It was much better than itchy formal-ware, the feeling of a beautiful woman’s naked skin touching his.

The way her skin felt against his was nothing short of intoxicating. He wanted more and unlike his first sexual experience with Connie, he wasn’t the least bit anxious. Already, he had worked up a light sweat. The air within the car got muggy and sticky, but he didn’t care in the slightest. He was going to make love to his girlfriend, the prom be damned.

A part of him hadn’t forgotten his plan to make it better for her than her first time. That involved really building up the feeling, caressing her naked body to get the blood flowing in all the right directions. He could already feel the moist heat building between her thighs. He had to make sure she was fully aroused before the big moment.

“Sherry…are you ready?” he asked her, already breathless.

“Yes!” she gasped eagerly. “Please, Rod…I want feel you inside me.”

That desperate, passionate look in her eyes left no room for doubt. Acting on a potent combination of desire and urgency, Rod pushed Sherry’s thighs apart and positioned himself over her. He carefully aligned his member with her wet entrance, rubbing the tip up against the outer folds. Then, with a simple thrust of his hips, he entered her.

“Ohhh my God!” they both cried out, almost at the same time.

It felt even better than he had hoped, her hot womanly flesh surrounding his rigid manhood. It was like a true melding of bodies and passions, flooding his world with so many blissful feelings. He didn’t remember the moment being this powerful with Connie. Sherry must have been that special.

“Rod…ooh I feel it!” Sherry moaned. “It feels…so good.”

As soon as Rod heard that, he knew the most critical part of their plan was complete. They wanted their sex to feel better and be more meaningful than their previous experiences. If the look on his girlfriend’s face was any indication, they had already succeeded.

“Sherry…my lover,” Rod found himself saying.

Whether out of love or lust, those words set the tone. With their flesh now entwined, passion and hormones took over.

With Sherry up against the door and him hovering over her, Rod began moving his body with hers, establishing a steady, yet focused rhythm. She let out more moans while he let out more grunts, his rigid flesh moving within her tight depths, extracting raw sensations that evoked heightened feelings. As they moved together in a sexual heat, Rod captured her lips in another kiss. The way she kissed back only made those feelings more intense.

It was the kind of intimacy that most couples only dream about on their prom night…or any night, for that matter. They hadn’t even gotten to the prom yet and already, he and Sherry were experiencing the most romantic moment they had ever experienced. It almost seemed backwards, having such a moment before they even got to the prom. Regardless, something about it just felt right.

“I like this plan better…much better!”

Sweat quickly covered their bodies. The windows of his car became foggy as the air got even muggier. Whatever hairspray she’d used or cologne he’d put on had long since washed off. All that spectacle that the prom was supposed to build gave way to real, raw passion. It sure beat the hell out of dancing to cheesy pop music.

Rod wished the feeling could’ve lasted all night. Unfortunately, basic human biology – especially those of inexperienced teenagers – made that impossible. That didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy it, though. At the very least, he wanted Sherry to come before he did. That meant holding back and exercising some discipline with his lust, but it turned out he didn’t have to hold back for very long.

“Rod! Oh…ohhh Rod! I’m close…very close,” Sherry told him.

“Sherry…” was all he could get out in the heat of the moment.

He kept kissing her, stepping up the pace of his movements in the process. He already knew how she liked to be embraced. Rod used that to his full advantage as he brought his girlfriend to orgasm.

“Ohhh Rod!” she cried out as the feeling hit.

Her lower back arched and her legs tensed as she got her release. She was pretty loud in her blissful proclamation, so much so that it left his ears ringing. He didn’t mind, though. In fact, it made the moment that much more special, knowing he had giving this girl that he cared for so deeply that much ecstasy.

He was more than happy to ease up on the rhythm and let her soak in the orgasmic feeling. However, Sherry didn’t linger for long. With her body still shuddering, she captured his lips again and shifted their bodies.

“Now…it’s your turn!” Sherry told him.

Not needing much explanation, Rod let his girlfriend take it from there. He soon found himself sitting up right in the sweat, Sherry straddling his hips and riding his cock. She held onto his shoulders for leverage, shoving her breasts in his face in a blatant effort to get him to climax too. It worked like a charm.

“Ohhh fuck, Sherry! I’m gonna come! I’m gonna…come!” Rod said with labored grunts.

“All…part of…the plan!” she said in between her heated motions.

Rod held on, grasping Sherry’s hips and bracing himself for the onslaught of ecstasy. When it hit, he closed his eyes, threw his head back, and let out a deep moan as he climaxed hard. It was, by far, the most satisfying, intimate feeling he’d ever felt.

Even as he soaked in the feeling, he could sense Sherry’s affectionate gaze on him. She even stopped moving her hips, allowing him to fully enjoy his release. As his member throbbed inside her, he opened his eyes to see that powerful gaze. At that moment, Rod came to an important realization.

“This is real. What Sherry and I have…it’s really real!”

As that realization sank in, they came together in another kiss. It was softer and less heated than before, but still conveyed the same feeling. What they had just done went beyond any high school dance. He and Sherry had essentially pre-empted the spirit of the prom and captured that romantic feeling all their own.

“Sherry,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“Yes, my lover?” said Sherry. “Which I can now say unironically, mind you.”

“If I said I love you…before we even get to the prom…before we carry out the rest of our plan…would that ruin anything?”

It was the most serious question Rod had ever asked someone. The smile on Sherry’s face never waned, though. That told him all he needed to know.

“Not in the slightest,” she told him.

“That’s…a relief,” he said, still breathless, “because I do love you. What we just did…on a night like this…I’m now comfortable saying that.”

“So am I,” she said, “because I love you too, Rod. Regardless of how the rest of the prom goes…I know what I feel. And I’m ready to celebrate it!”

Rod shot her a beaming smile and kissed her again, enjoying their sweaty, naked embrace as much as possible. Eventually, they would have to get dressed again. They might even have to clean themselves up so that they didn’t look like a couple that had just had sex in the back seat of a car.

They were probably end up being late to the prom, much to the chagrin of their friends. That didn’t matter, though. As far as Rod was concerned, he and Sherry had already captured the spirit of the prom.

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“The New Neighbor” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a short, but sexy story that I wrote. My last short sexy story did surprisingly well so I’m going to see if I can make this a regular thing on this blog. If you enjoy this kind of content, please let me know. If you have any sexy suggestions for future short stories, please let me know as well. I’d love to hear those ideas.

For now, here’s another sexy short story that was inspired by my recent move. Enjoy!

“Wake up, little sister!” said an annoying, condescending voice that could’ve roused a corpse. “It’s after seven and you’re officially late.”

“Ugh! Damn it, Ray. It’s Saturday,” groaned Sarah Jones as she held a pillow over her head to block out the morning sun.

“I don’t care. I’ve got work. You’ve got errands. So long as you’re living in your generous, loving sister’s condo, you’re going to stick to a schedule.”

Sarah closed her eyes and buried her face in the arm of the couch, which also happened to be her de-facto bed. She tried willing her hard-ass older sister out of existence, but it was no use. She offered no mercy, pulling the blanket off her and ripping the pillow out of her grip. It was mornings like this where she hated that she’d inherited her mother’s looks while her Rachel got Dad’s strength.

Hit with a faceful of sun and an older sister’s penetrating gaze, Sarah groaned as she pulled herself up from the couch. Wearing a dirty T-shirt, old sweat pants, and the same underwear she’d worn to work for the past three days, she felt about as rested as a hung-over hobo. In some respects, it was a fitting metaphor for her life at this point.

“You must really hate me, Ray,” Sarah said as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “I know I suck as a sister, having to crash at your place after fucking my life up in ways that are entirely my fault.”

“Enough with the guilt trip, Sarah. You know I don’t hate you,” Rachel replied, rolling her eyes at her, “but even you have to admit you need a kick in the ass these days. It’s bad enough you dropped out of college to hook up with that high school crush of yours. But between staying with the guy after he cheated on you and letting him burn through your college fund on that failed video game company of his, you’ve got no high ground to stand on.”

“For your information, it was a software company,” Sarah muttered, as though that much it hurt any less.

“Doesn’t matter what it was. The point is now you’re waiting tables, your credit is shit, and you wasted mom and dad’s charity when you tried to get a payday loan on their car.”

“Which I apologized for a million times, by the way,” said Sarah.

“Too late for that. Mom and Dad gave you leeway and it burned them. I’ve worked hard and exercised infinitely better judgment than you so I’ll give you none. You want my help getting your life back together, this is the price you pay.”

Sarah felt inclined to cuss her sister out until next Christmas, but that only would’ve made her more smug and she couldn’t have that. She’d done enough to screw herself over these past few years.

Avoiding eye-contact with Rachel, Sarah pulled herself up from the couch and did her best to wake up. She tried fixing her messy hair and wrinkled clothes, but at this point in her life, she could only do so much to feel presentable. Having once been the hottest girl in school who had every opportunity given to her, all her bad decisions just made her feel ugly, by default.

As Sarah did what she could to look somewhat less pathetic, Rachel retrieved her purse and keys from the kitchen table. She was already dressed in her overpriced pantsuit, ready to pull some overtime at the law firm she’d been working at for the past five years. Between her makeup and more professional demeanor, it was painfully obvious which one of them had made the better life choices.

“I’ve left a list of errands on the fridge next to the wine where I know you’ll see it,” Rachel said as she checked herself in the mirror near the door. “I need you to go to the DMV to pick up the license plate for my new Mazda, swing by the farmer’s market to pick up supplies for the firm’s annual meeting, coordinate with the building manager open house in the unit across the hall, and take care of that big stack of laundry that’s still sitting in my bedroom.”

“That all sounds like very important work,” Sarah said dryly. “Want me to learn Mandarin and do your taxes while I’m at it?”

“Whatever you can do that’ll keep you on schedule and not making dumb decisions is fine by me,” her older sister replied. “Just do what I ask and I’ll have no reason to kick you out. It’s that simple.”

“Simple…right,” Sarah scoffed.

She’d heard that before. Those three words in that particular order might have been her least favorite words of all time. That was what her ex-boyfriend told her when he told her about some get-rich-quick scheme he’d conjured. That was what she told herself when she dropped out of college to pursue what she thought would be a less complicated life. Every time she heard or said those words, it led to another poor decision that she came to regret.

Rather than risk hearing those words again, Sarah dragged herself to the kitchen in search of something to wake her up. As annoyingly regimented as her sister was, Sarah couldn’t afford to push her buttons. If her sister kicked her out, then she would have nowhere left to go.

“Well, if I’m going to run off and be your personal errand girl, I’m going to need some coffee,” she said.

“Sorry, but this is the last batch,” said Rachel, holding up her travel mug as though it were a trophy.

Please tell me you’re joking,” Sarah groaned. “Please tell me you’re just trying to kick my ass into gear again. I promise I won’t get mad this time.”

“Sorry, but when you’re busy and have a functional career, certain things slip your mind. Guess you’ll have to get some from the new neighbor across the hall and hope he’s a morning person.”

“Are you ever going to get tired of punishing me for being such a bitch in high school?”

“If I do, I’ll let you know if I do,” Rachel replied smugly. “Have a great day, little sis!”

Sarah shot her older sister a harsh scold, but she barely saw it. She was already out the door, on her way to drive her nice new Mazda to her well-paying job while her broke sister relied on public transportation to do all the menial chores she’d been given. It used to be so much easier to hate her sister, but Sarah just made it harder on herself with every bad decision, it seemed.

With Rachel gone, Sarah buried her tired face in her arms and muttered a string of curses that would’ve gotten her arrested if she’d said them in public. She would’ve loved to just crawl back on the couch, fall asleep, and try to regain whatever strength she could for her next shift at the restaurant. Unfortunately, her uptight older sister had given her a lot to do. If she wanted to even have a couch to sleep on, she had to get to work and pretend she wasn’t too miserable.

To do that, however, she needed coffee. There was no way she could be that alert on a Saturday morning without it. Not having the extra money for a latte, she decided to take her sister’s advice and check with the new neighbor across the hall of her sister’s condo. If she were lucky, he or she wouldn’t ask her to flagellate herself for extra creamer.

Not bothering to put on less scruffy clothes, she walked out the front door and to the condo across the hall. Still too tired to give too many damns about waking someone up, she knocked on the door.

“Please don’t be a mean, vindictive bitch who makes me feel like shit,” she said under her breath. “Just once…let me meet someone who doesn’t bust my ass for being a fuck-up.”

Sarah hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst. Knowing her luck, the neighbor was a friend of Rachel’s who conspired with her to make her sister miserable. Much to her surprise, though, the person that answered didn’t look like a vindictive bitch. In fact – and it might have been the grogginess talking – it looked like a handsome, attractive man with dark hair, a light beard, and no shirt to conceal a very masculine, very fit physique.

“Good morning,” he greeted. “Can I help you with something.”

“Um…I uh,” Sarah stammered, suddenly feeling stupid for wearing such unflattering clothes.

“Are…you okay?” he asked her.

“Coffee!” she said, her brain finally working again. “Uh…do you have any coffee? I’m kind of out and…”

She kept stammering like a drunk prom date, which was saying something because she was used to being the one that made the opposite sex stammer. The man, who must have been a very understanding prom date, just laughed and opened the door.

“Sure, I have coffee,” he said. “Come on in. I just brewed a pot.”

“Uh…thanks,” said Sarah. “I really appreciate it. I’m…having a rough morning.”

“I can tell,” he said as he made his way to the kitchen. “Rough night?”

“More like rough life for the past five years.”

“Well, coffee won’t fix it, but it’ll help.”

Sarah laughed. He didn’t say anything particularly funny, but she still laughed. It felt good to laugh, though. She hadn’t been able to laugh much these past few years. Screwing up and making bad decisions had that effect on someone’s sense of humor. Who knew that being around a handsome man could heal it so quickly?

Trying to regain what little composure she had to begin with, she followed the handsome man into the room. Near as she could tell, he had just moved in. Everything was still messy. There were boxes, pictures, and pieces of furniture strewn everywhere. However, it didn’t strike her as the reckless kind of messy. It came off as a productive kind of mess, the kind that hinted at a man who had his shit together.

“You’ll have to forgive the mess,” the man said. “I just moved in yesterday and I’m still unpacking.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I’ve seen, lived, and made bigger messes than this,” Sarah said.

“Wow. It sounds like you’ve had an interesting life, Miss…”

“Sarah,” she said, “Sarah Jones.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m James Holt. I’m not new to this county, this state, or this county, but I am new to this condo. It’s actually the first condo I’ve ever had…not to mention the first home of my own that I’ve ever had.”

“Damn, then this mess is deceptive,” she joked. “It sounds like you’ve got your shit together, James.”

“Trust me, I’m still behind the curve.”

Sarah had a hard to believing that for anyone who’d managed to buy their own place and not have to rely on vindictive siblings for living space. However, he was so damn handsome in the early morning sun that she didn’t bother doubting him.

She continued admiring his masculine physique as he handed her a cup of fresh coffee. In the process, her fingers touched his hands. She swore it warmed her up more than the coffee. She did what she could to hide it though, smiling awkwardly at him and trying not to hint at how much he’d brightened her morning.

Standing in the middle of the messy condo, Sarah began sipping her coffee with him. She didn’t even mind that it had no cream or sugar. James seemed to prefer it black anyways. As such, she found herself wanting to align herself with his preferences.

Drinking the coffee helped keep the silence from getting too awkward. The heat from his earlier touch only intensified, though. Sarah worried that both the caffeine and her racing heart might get the better of her.

Searching for a distraction, her eyes drifted towards the only picture that had been hung on the wall. It looked to be a letter of sorts. When she looked a bit closer, though, she was surprised to see that it wasn’t just any kind of letter.

“Hey…is that a rejection letter?” she asked him.

“Yep!” James said proudly. “That, Ms. Jones, is the rejection letter I got from my dream school. I had my heart set on one college, I thought I did enough to get in, and then I got rejected.”

“You say all of that with a beaming smile. Am I missing something here?”

“Well, there is a context,” he said. “You see, that rejection was the turning point for me. When I read it, I thought my life was over. Everything I’d planned for in my life depended on me getting into that school. When I didn’t, everything fell apart. I became a total wreck for years after that, so much so my parents kicked me out of the house until I got my shit together. And God help me, I thank them every day for that.”

Sarah looked at him as though he were an alien who just sprouted a second head. He described the kind of situation that crushed spirits and shattered dreams. She knew those situations well because she’d endured plenty of them. Now here was a handsome man in the middle of a new condo, talking about it as though it were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

“I’m going to need more context, here,” Sarah said.

“There’s not much more than that, actually,” said James. “After being a wreck for a while, I got tired and did something about it.”

“And…that worked?” she said skeptically.

“Not immediately, but eventually,” he replied. “I got serious, joined the army, into a vocational program, and worked my way to an awesome job in IT. Granted, it was nothing like the plan I’d originally had for myself, but it still worked out. I basically fulfilled a dream I didn’t know I had and it’s all because I got rejected. Amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…unbelievable,” Sarah said distantly.

She found herself walking up to the framed letter and touching it with her hand. In that overpriced frame, she saw the same crushed spirits that had plagued her over the past few years. Yet standing next to her, drinking a cup of coffee, was a handsome man who took that same frustration and turned it into something. It was nothing short of inspiring. It also made her want this man more than she’d ever wanted her morning cup of coffee.

She ended up only drinking half the cup before setting the mug aside. She then turned to face the handsome man before her, who kept admiring the framed letter like a trophy. He deserved to admire it too. It made her admire him even more.

“James, can I ask you something serious?” she said.

“Does it involve me getting you more coffee?” he said in a humored tone.

“No. It doesn’t. It’s really serious,” Sarah said strongly. “You claimed you were a total wreck…that everything in your life fell apart.”

“And I meant it,” he said.

“But it got better, right? When you put in the work, made the right decisions, and gutted out the frustration…it panned out in the end, right?”

“Well, yeah,” James said, barely pausing to give it any thought.

“And if someone else who was a wreck…someone who feels so pathetic every morning, relying on vindictive siblings and generous neighbors for help…put in that same work, do you believe it’ll pan out for them too?”

She might have been a bit too specific with that question. She probably revealed more about herself than she’d intended. That was something she usually avoided, especially in the presence of an attractive man. However, for James, she gladly made an exception.

“Well, without assuming too much about how you ended up the way you did,” he began.

“Hey!” Who said it was me?” Sarah teased.

“Sarah, be serious,” James said with a coy grin. “Being a wreck sucks. Being broken, lost, and down on your luck sucks. But if you put in the work, stop making excuses, and just push forward…then yeah, it’ll pan out. I believe that.”

“You’d believe that for a woman you just met?”

“What can I say? I have a good feeling about you.”

He moved in a little closer when he said those words, giving Sarah a good whiff of his manly scent. He smelled like he hadn’t showered, but had a long night and worked up a hell of a sweat. It was the kind of musk that sent every womanly instinct into overdrive. Not since her junior prom had her loins been so inflamed and that had been in an overpriced dress.

At that moment, Sarah found herself making a decision that might either be a big mistake or the first genuinely right decision she’d made in a long time.

“James, I know I just met you and you just placed a lot of faith in a woman who just drank your coffee,” Sarah said, “but I need to know one more thing.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best to answer,” he said, sounding intrigued and maybe a little flirtatious.

“If I kissed you right now with my morning breath…and maybe wanted a little more than that…would you stop me.”

The handsome man who’d welcomed her into his new home with coffee and hope grinned at her. She swore his smile lit up her broken soul like a Christmas tree. He must have been a morning person because he set his coffee mug aside and moved in closer, giving him a bigger taste of his manly presence.

“No. I wouldn’t stop you,” he said in a deep, manly tone. “In fact, I’d encourage you.”

“Good!” said Sarah. “Because that’s exactly the encouragement I need right now.”

With more energy than she’d ever had this early in the morning, Sarah threw her arms around James and captured his lips in a hard, messy kiss. His breath still smelled like coffee and toast. Hers probably smelled worse. She didn’t care and neither did he. Within seconds, their lips and tongues were entwined and eager.

From that kiss came more intimate touching. She eagerly explored his exposed upper body while he felt up her hips and waist. The fact he didn’t seem to mind her overly-casual attire only made him more attractive in her eyes. As they kissed and touched, she found herself leading him to a couch covered in unopened boxes.

Along the way, she slid off her shirt and took off her pants, leaving her in a pair of cotton panties. He followed suit, stumbling a bit as he pulled down the loose-fitting pants he’d probably worn to bed last night. Together, they fell on the messy couch, laughing and kissing in a playful outburst of morning lust.

“Oh James…encourage me. Embolden me,” Sarah said curtly.

“Yes, ma’am!” James said eagerly.

Like a man on a mission, he shoved aside some empty boxes to give them more room. Then, he swiftly removed her panties, leaving her fully nude on his couch. Showing the kind of drive she could only envy, he pushed her legs a part and went down on her, gorging on her pussy and filling her with blissful sensations that roused her more than all the coffee in the world.

“Mmm…so encouraging!” she purred.

The man had been hungry for more than breakfast. He must have worked up quite an appetite because she noticed him taking off his boxers while eating her out, revealing a very appetizing endowment. Sarah had encountered men with a propensity for morning wood, but never like this.

“Sarah…ready to feel bolder?” he finally asked her after getting her pussy nice and wet.

“Hell yeah!” she answered without hesitation.

With burning intent, James shot up from the floor and got on top of her. Sarah eagerly spread her legs, welcoming him onto the couch so that he was right on top of her. She even showed off a little flexibility, hitching her legs up over his shoulders so he could enter her with ease. Once in position, he delivered a single thrust and in an instant, her hot flesh parted and welcomed him into her domain.

“Oohhh James!” Sarah cried out.

From that blissful proclamation on, her world rocked. She felt his powerful grip on her hips as he delivered a steady succession of thrusts, working his rigid manhood within her depths. It was so smooth and seamless, as though her body had been waiting for something like this…a feeling to make her feel stronger, bolder, and more determined to rebuild her life. The fact it felt so fucking good was a nice bonus too.

As James made love to her, Sarah passionately raked her nails along his back, feeling the manly sinews of his upper body. There was such strength in his flesh…a strength that had helped him rebuild his wreck of a life. Now, here he was, making love to her. Maybe some of that strength would be imparted to her.

Whether that happened or not remained to be seen. She’d just settle for great sex and a damn good orgasm. That ended up happening sooner than she’d expected. Together, they rocked his couch under the light of the morning sun, their naked bodies moving together in a harmonious union. His touch, his breath, and his sex sent her down a path of ecstasy, one that culminated in the most satisfying climax she’d had in a long time.

“Oohhh fuck!” she gasped. “I’m coming, James. I’m going to…come!”

“Mmm…me too, Sarah,” James moaned.

The pace of their sex accelerated. His hips moved faster and her body rocked harder. After a few, focused movements, he sent her over that special threshold that separated her from her blissful peak. When it happened, Sarah clenched his shoulders, closed her eyes, and threw her head back in a cry of euphoria.

White hot pleasure soon followed, the orgasmic sensations rippling from head to toe. Along with that pleasure came a strength that she didn’t usually associate with sex, although she wouldn’t mind making such a connection.

As she enjoyed her pleasure, James got his. She couldn’t tell exactly when it happened. She just sensed it when his grip on her hips tightened, his grunts intensified, and his powerful manhood throbbed inside her, his pleasure echoing hers. Even while in her orgasmic daze, she took the time to admire the contentment in his eyes.

It was the look of a man who appreciated the struggle of rebuilding a broken life. In him, she saw someone who had walked the path she’d been trying to walk. In her, she hoped he saw someone who was eager to catch up.

As the orgasmic sensations settled, he lingered on top of her. Their bodies remained entwined in a naked heap, his hands still roaming her exposed flesh while she caressed his rugged complexion.

“Thank you, James,” Sarah told him. “Thank you for encouraging me…for making me feel like I can rebuild my life. Oh, and thanks for the coffee!”

“You’re welcome,” James laughed, “and thank you for the morning sex. I think I’m going to like being your new neighbor.”

“Me too!”

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Final Edits of “Rescued Hearts” And Promo Art!

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I’ve got another quick, but pivotal update on the status of “Rescued Hearts.” A couple days ago, I received what will likely be the final round of edits. They weren’t quite as extensive as the first round that I got, but I’m hoping these act as the final layer of polish on what I hope to be a sexy, romantic novel that’ll entertain and titillate for all the right reasons.

While these edits were less extensive, there were a few interesting lessons to glean from the process. Some of those lessons were a byproduct of my writing style and I’m not just referring to the sexy scenes.

When I’m writing something I know will be edited multiple times, either by myself or someone else, I have a fairly specific approach. I tend to be more detailed and specific, sometimes to the point of being purposefully wordy. I know that would upset nearly every English teacher I’ve ever had, but there’s a reason behind it.

I learned early on in my writing career that it’s easier and more efficient to write some bloat into a piece and then trim it later on. Think of it like throwing a huge lob of clay onto a table, but then taking the time to shape and polish it. In my case, though, that clay consists of a sexy story.

During the editing process, it’s mostly a matter of trimming some of that bloat and being more concise in certain areas. That’s especially important for the sexy scenes. In my experience, people don’t want to know the exact location of every strand of pubic hair. The same goes for romance. Not every beat of sweat needs a backstory.

That doesn’t mean I don’t end up having to do major revisions. During the editing process for “Passion Relapse,” I ended up having to rewrite the entire ending. I didn’t have to do that with “Rescued Hearts,” but there have been times when I’ve tried to keep some of the bloat I’ve written.

I won’t get into specifics since I don’t want to get into sexy spoiler territory. However, I’ve learned from these final round of edits that there are certain points in the story where you can stop emphasizing certain details. You’ve already gotten the point across. You don’t need to repeat yourself, but I often do anyway. That’s a tough lesson that I’m still trying to learn.

I hope to make use of those lessons with future novels. For now, “Rescued Hearts” is on track for its October 28th release date later this year. In preparation for that date, my publisher, Totally Entwined Group, sent me some sexy promo art. I intend to use this art every chance I get on this blog so expect to see plenty of it. Here’s a quick teaser that should get your blood flowing in all the right directions.

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Hope that gets everyone a little more excited for October 28th. I also hope “Rescued Hearts” ends up being another step in my efforts to become a successful erotica/romance writer. I want to keep improving with every novel. I want my writing to get better, sexier, and more polished with every novel.

While I am going to put plenty of effort into promoting “Rescued Hearts,” I’m already hard at work on my next novel. I’ve got plenty more sexy ideas beyond that as well. I don’t know which of these ideas will work or whether any of them will make me more successful, but I’m eager to try as many of them as I can. If I can do that and add more sex appeal to my writing, then I’ll consider my efforts a success.

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Announcement: Contract Signed And Edits Begin!

I just want to make a quick announcement to update everyone on the status of “Rescued Hearts,” which is to be my second published book. The release schedule is already set by my publisher, Totally Entwined Group. I have every intention of making that date.

Earlier today, I made it truly official. I received the actual contract for the publication of “Rescued Hearts” and signed it. Just a while ago, I received confirmation from their office that the contract went through. It’s singed, sealed, and official. “Rescued Hearts” is on its way!

Along with the confirmation, I received the first round of edits. Just as I did with “Passion Relapse,” this novel will involve plenty of editing. Editing is one of the toughest processes in any novel, but it also happens to be the most necessary. It’s not enough to tell a sexy story. That sexy story has to have polish. That’s the only way to truly maximize the sexiness.

I intend to make “Rescued Hearts” as polished as possible. I hope it shows when the book finally comes out later this fall. Until then, I’ll be hard at work editing and polishing this sexy, romantic story. I’ll provide more updates as they come in.

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Filed under Book Announcement