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A Scary (Yet Sexy) Story Before Halloween

It’s the day before Halloween. I’m already working up an appetite for candy, I’ve binge-watched an unhealthy amount of slasher movies, and I’m eagerly awaiting the sexy costumes I’m sure to see. Halloween is an underrated holiday, is what I’m saying. I’ve said it before, but it’s worth belaboring.

In the spirit of this sweet, sexy holiday that adults and kids alike can embrace, I’d like to contribute in a way that goes beyond handing out candy, drinking pumpkin ale, or wearing my sexy male nurse costume. Yes, I have a sexy male nurse costume. Men can be sexy nurses too, you know?

While I’m sure some are burned out watching overly-censored version of “Friday The 13th” and “Halloween” on cable, I think there’s still room for a scary, yet sexy Halloween story. As it just so happens, I happen to have one that I would like to share. Hopefully, it gets everyone in the Halloween spirit. If it makes you horny too, then that’s just a bonus.

This particular story takes place during my first year of college. I’ve shared sexy college stories before, but this one is unique in that it was more a legend around campus. I wasn’t there when it happened, but it had already become part of the culture there and, being a curious freshman, it really resonated with me.

Apparently, this story had been circulating around the school for a couple years now. Nobody knew that it was true, but it sounded like it could be true and that’s kind of what made it scary. Sure, it has a sexy twist, but there’s still that creepy undertone that you only ever feel around clown, black cats, or guys wearing hockey masks.

It didn’t have an official name, but I called it “The Tale Of The Cursed Cupcakes.” I promise it’s not as corny as it sounds. I also apologize if I get some of the details wrong because it has been a while since I told this story, but I think it’s worth sharing on the night before Halloween.


The sun had just set. Halloween had officially begun. A young couple, Eric and Karen, were set to go to the biggest Halloween party on campus. This was one of those parties that only a select few got invited to. Eric happened to be a former roommate with someone who helped organize it so they managed to get in. For him and his girlfriend, it was a big deal.

They go to the party wearing their best costumes. He’s dressed as a pirate. She’s dressed as sexy school girl. They arrive at an upscale apartment just off campus. It’s a place usually reserved for students at the school who have rich parents, scholarships, or both. The food is better, the alcohol isn’t cheap, and the toilets actually work. By college standards, it might as well be a luxury penthouse.

Eric and Karen arrive at the party just after eight. They meet up with the host, a somewhat colorful character named Michael Bowers. He has a reputation throughout campus as being somewhat eccentric. His family contribute heavily to the school and works as a trainer with the football team, which gives him all sorts of access. The guy has connections and he’s not afraid to use them.

As soon as they enter the party, they find out he’s used them well. He reserves the party room at his apartment building and he goes all out. He orders multiple kegs, sets up tables full of snacks, and even hires a professional DJ. At the center of it all is this big plate of cupcakes, each designed to look like eyeballs with big blue irises. Karen finds them kind of creepy, but she figures that’s just part of the Halloween theme.

“Welcome!” Michael greets them, dressed as a vampire. “Here, have a cupcake or several. I promise they’ll get you in the spirit!”

“Whatever,” Eric says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m just here to have a good time with my girl.”

“You’re sweet, babe,” Karen replies, giving him a nice kiss.

They both eat their cupcakes. They’re warm and sweet, definitely better than anything bought in a store. Eric ends up having another. Then, he and Karen grab some beer, some snacks, and start dancing to all sorts of Halloween-themed music.

More people arrive. Michael greets every one of them, offering everyone cupcakes. Most accept them, thinking little of it. They then join in the fun. They eat, they dance, and they laugh. Like Karen and Eric, they want to have a good time.

Then, after a couple hours or so, everyone has had their share of drinks and snacks. Intoxication takes over and inhibitions disappear. It’s fun, decadent, and everything Karen and Eric expect of a party. Then, Karen starts to notice something odd.

Eric, who isn’t that drunk, gets a little friskier than she expects. As he dances with her, he starts kissing her neck, feeling up her thighs, and even squeezing her butt. This surprises her because he’s usually doesn’t get that overt in public. He usually saves that kind of intimate touching for the bedroom. He’s kind like that.

Before she knows it, though, his touching becomes more overt. He kisses her in the middle of the dance floor and not in a romantic sort of way. He does so in a way that makes it clear he wants to fuck her.

“God, I want you, Karen,” he tells her with an almost-predatory tone. “I’m so fucking horny right now!”

At first, she thinks he’s just drunk. Then, she feels it. When he pulls her deeper into his arms, it literally pokes her right in the thigh. Eric has a raging hard-on. He doesn’t even try to hide it. When she looks down, she sees he has pitched a full tent in his pants. It’s so big and hard it looks like the seams are ready to burst.

“Eric, what has gotten into you?” Karen wonders.

That’s when she notices something else. Looking around her, she sees similar behaviors between other couples. Some are already making out. Some rushing into darkened rooms. Some are engaged in full-fledged foreplay right on the spot. It’s not coy or playful either. It’s like something has gotten into them.

“Fuck, I’m so hard right now!” she hears one man say.

“Hey! Someone get in my pants right now! I’ve got a hungry snake and he’s ready to bite!” says another.

It’s getting intense. The men around her, and even some of the women, seem possessed. Something has gotten into them and it’s not just the alcohol. They’re like animals in heat. Someone or something has provoked them and Eric is one of them.

He’s now looking at her with the eyes of a hungry animal. She’s never seen him like this before. He’s usually so polite and sweet. On this night, though, he’s a raging ball of masculine prowess and he wants to take it out on her. At first, Karen is worried that something might be wrong with him.

Then, he does it. Eric leans in, nibbles on her ear, and slips a hand between her legs. He does this because he knows it turns her on. He knows it gets her in the mood. He doesn’t usually do it unless the time is right. This might not be that time, but it’s too late. The damage has been done. Now, she’s horny too. Whatever monster has consumed her boyfriend has consumed her as well.

“Please, Karen,” he whispers into her ear with that tone he knows she can’t resist. “I want to fuck.”

“Okay,” she tells him. “Let’s go find some privacy.”

“I know just the place!”

Without hesitation, he grabs her hand and leads her away from the party. He’s been to this apartment complex before. He knows it better than most. He practically sprints across the building, eventually finding the locker room area near the pool, which has been closed for the night.

They enter. It was odd that it had been unlocked, but Karen didn’t bother making sense of it. She just followed her boyfriend inside. He then led her towards one of the changing areas, pinned her against the wall, and slid her panties down her skirt.

There was little foreplay or sexy talk, which was unlike Eric, who was such a caring lover. When he dropped his pants, though, she saw the sheer size of his erection and was convinced.

“Fuck! What has gotten into you, Eric?” Karen gasped in amazement.

“I don’t know, but I want it in you too!” he tells her.

He makes good on his desires. With that massive boner, he goes onto give Karen the hardest, rawest fuck of her life. It’s so raw and primal, as though a demon has possessed her boyfriend and the only way to exorcise it was to fuck her senseless. It was intense, but powerful. She could even feel it herself, this demonic lust filling her as he fucked her.

It’s not quick either. He ends up fucking her multiple times, blowing multiple loads. Karen finds herself climaxing more than once too. She swears she hasn’t come this many times since her prom night. For a moment, it seems as though this demonic lust was going to consume them completely.

Eventually, though, they vent their powerful lusts. They’re tired, sore, and dazed. Karen is still a little scared. What just came over them? What just happened?

“We should go,” she finally says after all is said and done.

“Yeah, we should,” Eric says, sounding just as overwhelmed.

They leave the party without saying goodbye. They make it back to the dorm where they shower, sober up, and fall asleep.

The next day is awkward and confusing. They’re still not sure what to make of it. Eric is unusually silent. Karen worries that the monstrous lust is still in him and he’s trying to fight it. She starts to worry whether that party brought out something in them they didn’t know. Did that party reveal a monstrous side to them that they weren’t ready to handle?

Then, later that day, they’re in their dorm together. Eric gets a phone call. It’s his own roommate who’d gotten him an invite to the party. At first, Karen doesn’t make much of it. Then, she hears Eric burst out laughing. Curious, she approaches her boyfriend.

“What’s going on, Eric? What’s so funny?” she asks.

“Viagra,” he tells her, still laughing hysterically. “The cupcakes had Viagra in them!”


That, my friends, is “The Tale Of The Cursed Cupcakes.” I hope it helps inspire your Halloween spirit, among other things. Again, this is a story I only heard from my fellow schoolmates. I don’t know if it’s true. I don’t think it matters. It doesn’t make the story any less sexy.

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Ta Ta Towels: The Latest In Tit Technology

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Every now and then, someone finds a way to channel their capacity for sexy thoughts and problem solving into something innovative. It speaks volumes to the human capacity for invention and sex appeal when we see a sexy problem, find a sexy solution, and turn it into a sexy product. As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, it brings tears of joy to my eyes.

Those tears went beyond joy when I uncovered the latest innovation in technology involving female breasts. I’m sure I got the attention of the straight males and gay females right now.

We’d all be wise to pay attention because, as much as we disagree on everything from pizza toppings to which deity loves us more, we tend to agree that breasts are awesome. Any tool that can enhance them in any way is inherently awesome, by default. From infants to old farts, there’s little dispute. Boobs are awesome and so is anything tool that helps them.

Enter the Ta Ta Towel. It’s kind of what it sounds like. It’s a towel made specifically to dry, cradle, and support a woman’s breasts. On paper, it does have a legitimate function. When a woman gets out of the shower or it’s just really hot, their boobs are wet and/or sweaty. That can be uncomfortable. It can mess up some perfectly good bras or shirts.

The Ta Ta Towel fixes that situation by creating something that will both support those beautiful vessels of mother’s milk and keep them dry, smooth, and comfortable. I’m not a woman and I don’t have breasts, but I imagine that kind of comfort can be the difference between a good day and the kind of day where you have to resist the urge to stick your head in a trash compactor.

Let’s not lie to ourselves or deny the inner 13-year-old in all of us. Practical or not, this is a new innovation for maximizing the look, feel, and comfort of female breasts. This is the kind of thing that men and women alike can cheer together in gender harmony. Men love looking at breasts. Women love their breasts. Everybody wins with the Ta Ta Towel.

Now, it may very well be one of those weird things that is only a thing for a while. Like the snuggie, the non-hovering hover board, or the Chia Pet, it may be one of those sexy fads that comes and goes. It wouldn’t be the first time boobs have been subject to weird trends either. Given their importance for both genders, they do tend to attract some pretty kinky fashion fads.

Compared to the other weird shit we, as a society, do in the name of the female breast, I’d say the Ta Ta Towel is pretty balanced. Yes, it has a practical use. Yes, it improves the beauty and feel of the female breast, something that is already awesome to begin with. Yes, it’s a product that washed up actresses or retired porn stars will probably sell on infomercials.

It checks all the right boxes, as well as a few unnecessary ones. That doesn’t matter, though. The Ta Ta Towel still does something special, caring for and enhancing the great natural wonders that are female breasts. For that reason, and on behalf of all erotica/romance writers, I declare this wondrous innovation good.

Excuse me, I just teared up again.

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Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Inauguration Edition

It’s been another long week. It’s been more stressful for some than others for spectacularly obvious reasons. I know I haven’t made it easier by talking about such bleak topics like evil and the evil assholes throughout history that makes us wish we were dolphins. There’s still a lot to talk about with this issue, but I refuse to let this blog get too sullen.

No matter what I’m discussing, no matter how serious or disturbing, I’m going to find time to squeeze a little sexiness into the mix. What better way to do that than with my weekly “Sexy Sunday Thoughts” post?

There’s a lot of evil in this world that makes us want to throw a grenade into our gene pool. There’s also plenty of good that’s worth celebrating. Some of that good is sexy as hell. By now, everyone should know which kind I favor on this blog.

So for those who had a rough week and are dreading how the next four years will play out, I hope this offers a reprieve of sorts. We can’t change how certain events can play out. We can’t change the things that inspire evil in this world either. That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the sexy side of things.

“The only real difference between bikinis and underwear is that you’re more likely to be arrested if you wear one out in public.”

I’m a big fan of bikinis. I’m a big fan of sexy female underwear. I’m not a fan of hypocrisy though. From a pure design perspective, a bikini and a pair of underwear are the same. For utterly circumstantial reasons, though, only one is socially acceptable in public.

“The purpose of lingerie is somewhat ironic in that women put it on to get men in the mood to take it off.”

I’m a big fan of lingerie too. I know from experience how lingerie can make for wonderfully intimate moments with a significant other. That said, I still think the actual use of lingerie is so ironic, albeit in a sexy sort of way.

“A good doctor knows the difference between careful examination and foreplay. A great doctor will make sure the patient forgets that difference.”

If the success of “Grey’s Anatomy” and “House” has shown me anything, it’s that doctors can be sexy as hell in the right situation. Sure, some of those situations can get ugly and tragic, but in others it can get pretty damn hot.

Think about it. A smart, educated, well-paid man or woman is feeling up the most intimate parts of your body and asking intimate questions. At some point, your brain and your genitals will get on the same page.

“A prostitute who’s not very good at her job still has more customers than a tax attorney who is.”

Prostitution is the world’s oldest profession for a reason and it’s a damn good reason. Even if you’re moderately attractive and don’t put much effort into it, you can still satisfy plenty of customers. Orgasms will do that. I’ve never met a tax attorney who can be that mediocre and still make customers happy.

“A well-groomed man is just code for a man who spends more than $50 on clothes and hair care products.”

Guys, let’s not lie to ourselves. Women don’t like a man who’s cheap and unkempt. Being well-groomed doesn’t just have to mean shaving your pubic hair for your anniversary once a year. It also means investing some actual resources into yourself. It may suck for your credit card bill, but I think many ladies would agree that it does pay off if you invest well.

“Flavored lube can be dangerous in that it may confuse being hungry with being horny.”

I’ve said it before many times on this blog and I’ll keep saying it so long as our kinky species keeps giving me good reasons. Our caveman brains are full of faulty wiring. Eating and humping are two basic imperatives that our brain dedicates considerable resources to. Anything that confuses them is like bringing a flame-thrower to a napalm factory.

“If communication is supposed to lead to better sex, then shouldn’t negotiators have the best sex lives?”

As “Taken” and it’s various sequels have shown, some occupations require a very particular set of skills. To be a negotiator, you kind of need communication skills to make that job work. At the same time, everyone says communication is key to a good relationship and a great sex life. If we follow that logic, negotiators should basically be rock stars.

“Why do butt-ugly rock star marries a gorgeous supermodel? It’s for the same reason a dog licks his own balls…because he can.”

There’s a reason whey men like Mick Jagger can have kids that are younger than his grandkids running around. For reasons that simply defy logic, rockstars are one of those occupations where sex is basically a buffet that never closes. It affords them opportunities that few ever get, but many would seek

That’s it for now. Hope this lightens the mood. Whether you’re good, evil, or just don’t give a damn, a little sexiness can make anyone’s day better.

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