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“Lessons In Lovemaking” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a short story entitled “Lessons In Lovemaking.” It’s a story inspired, in part, by some recent events surrounding the state of sex education in this country. You’ll see what I mean by the end of the story. Enjoy!

“Are you ready for this, Evelyn?” asked a nervous, but excited Aaron Jay Patterson.

“I think so,” replied his girlfriend, Evelyn Marsh.

“It’s not too late. We can stop right now and forget the whole thing. I’ll even take you to that burger place you love.”

“No, it’s okay, babe,” she said with more certainty. “I am ready. I just…want to do this right.”

“So do I,” he said, casting her a smile, “which is exactly why we’re here.”

The beautiful, radiant woman by his side smiled back. The same woman who’d once laughed at the idea of falling in love with a guy she met at her younger brother’s birthday looked at him with an intensity that made him weak in the knees for all the right reasons. Holding her hand, conveying his love with his touch, he’d been preparing for this moment since their first kiss. It was a moment that just had to be perfect.

That was why, on a hot summer day in June, they took a day off from work and college classes to make an appointment with Dr. Sharon Braddock. It was just past noon when they arrived at the office complex located a couple miles of his apartment. Time slowed to a crawl as they sat together in the room, watching other eager couples come and go.

Those that left often did so with beaming smiles. That was a promising sign in Aaron’s book. He wanted him and Evelyn to be one of those couples. Based on Dr. Braddock’s glowing online reviews, her expertise could only help. She was supposed to be one of the best in the area.

Just making the appointment showed how much his relationship with Evelyn had progressed. He’d had other girlfriends. She freely admitted that she’d had other boyfriends as well. However, neither of them had been in a relationship that made it to this far. It wasn’t unreasonable to say that the outcome of this appointment would determine whether their love and their relationship was serious.

Aaron tried not to think about that as he and Evelyn nervously waited their turn. The waiting room had a TV and good Wi-Fi, but there was only so much he could do to distract himself. He was eager to take this next step with Evelyn.

“Mr. Patterson and Ms. Marsh?” the assistant from behind the secretary’s counter said.

“Yes?” said Aaron, sounding childishly eager.

“Dr. Braddock is ready for you now.”

He and Evelyn exchanged glances again. She was still smiling, but he could tell by her touch that she was as nervous as him. From what his older brother told him about these appointments, it was a normal feeling. He also told him it faded really fast once things got started.

“Let’s go!” Evelyn said, brimming with energy.

“Lead the way, my love,” Aaron said.

Together, they got up and walked through the main door, which lead into a narrow hall. With growing anticipation, they made their way towards a large set of double doors. Upon arriving, the doors automatically opened and entered into Dr. Braddock’s staging area, as it was called. There, they were greeted by a tall, middle-aged woman with an athletic frame, a professional demeanor, and a dead serious look in her eyes.

“Welcome,” the woman said. “I’m Dr. Braddock. Thank you for choosing me as your provider today.”

“Thank you for seeing us,” said Aaron as he and Evelyn took turns shaking her hand.

“We’ve heard a lot of great things about you,” said Evelyn. “My Aunt Helen said her second marriage succeeded because of you.”

“I like to think my results speak for themselves. As such, let’s get started.”

The older woman led them into the area and closed the door behind her. It looked pretty much like Aaron expected. It was fairly spacious, about the same size as the master bedroom at his parents’ house. The windows had been blacked out, the lights had been dimmed, and the décor on the walls was very appropriate, so to speak.

There wasn’t much furniture, aside from a queen-sized bed in the center of the room, a desk in the corner, and a couple of mahogany dressers alongside the walls. It probably wasn’t the best staging area in town, but Aaron didn’t need anything too fancy. He just needed Dr. Braddock to deliver.

“I’ve gone over your respective profiles and determined an appropriate recourse,” she said as she looked over a tablet computer. “I need only your affirmative consent to proceed.”

“You’ve got it,” said Evelyn without hesitation.

“Same here,” said Aaron, matching his girlfriend’s confidence.

“Very well,” said Dr. Braddock. “Then, come this way, please. Get into position while I make the appropriate arrangements.”

Knowing what that meant, Aaron exchanged one last nervous look with Evelyn. He hoped it would be the last. From this point forward, he approached the procedure with the assumption that it would vindicate his and Evelyn’s love.

Confident in his mindset, he and Evelyn walked over to the side of the bed and stood in front of one another. He faced her and she faced him, awaiting the doctor’s instructions and trying to contain his desire for the woman before him.

“According to your file, you two have been romantically involved for six months and nine days,” Dr. Braddock said, now standing in front of her desk.

“That’s correct,” said Aaron.

“It says you both have been involved in previous relationships,” she said. “Am I correct in stating that at least one of those relationships included sexual intercourse?”

“That’s correct too,” said Aaron. “I’ve had sex with one other woman. It was during high school and it was only three times.”

“Same here,” Evelyn said. “It was just after high school and twice with two different men.”

“Would you consider any of those encounters explicitly romantic?”

“Nope,” Aaron said simply.

“No, definitely not,” said Evelyn.

“Would you say they were pleasurable, even if they weren’t particularly satisfying?” Dr. Braddock asked.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s accurate,” said Evelyn.

“Same here,” said Aaron. “I don’t remember them being that special. Guess that’s why we’re here.”

“Indeed,” said Dr. Braddock, typing notes into her laptop with a stern professional demeanor.

The older woman entered something into the computer on her desk. Then, she downloaded it into her tablet. Aaron kept facing Evelyn. They were standing so close that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body. He fought the urge to just throw his arms around her and vent his passions on the spot.

Aaron took a deep breath and restrained himself, though. He reminded himself why he and Evelyn were doing this. It was an important step for every couple. He saw it as one of the most serious efforts he’d taken on in his adult life. He and Evelyn had worked hard on their love. He had every intention of working harder for this.

After going over more data on her tablet, Dr. Braddock walked over from her desk so that she stood at the head of the bed. Then, with a professional demeanor that would’ve made his old gym teacher proud, she addressed him and Evelyn.

“I’ve compiled your data. The procedure is ready,” Dr. Braddock said. “Do you wish to begin?”

“Yes,” said Aaron intently.

“Hell yes!” said Evelyn, her tone brimming with energy.

“Very well,” the older woman said. “First step in the process…take off each other’s clothes. Do not remove anything on your body. Rely exclusively on your lover. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Doctor,” he and Evelyn said simultaneously.

Aaron and his love did as instructed. Evelyn undid the buttons on his shirt and pulled it off over his head with ease. He undid her tight-fitting denim pants and pushed them down her shapely legs, giving her room to wiggle out of them. She was even a little playful with it, but only to a point. She understood as well as him that this was serious and they had to treat it as such.

Piece by piece, he and Evelyn took turns stripping one another. He took off her shirt. She took off his pants. They even alternated when taking off their shoes and socks. That might have been a bit too formal, but under Dr. Braddock’s critical eye, it couldn’t hurt to be extra thorough.

Once down to their underwear, though, Aaron let himself get a little affectionate. He slipped in closer to her warmth as he reached around to undo her bra, grinning affectionately at her as their naked skin touched. She smiled back, giggling a little as she pushed his boxers down to his ankles. That smile only widened when he did the same with her panties, pulling them down those shapely legs of hers and exposing his love in all her glory.

It might have been the most mundane part of the procedure. He’d seen a naked woman before. He and Evelyn had even seen each other naked on multiple occasions. He made no secret of how much he enjoyed the sight of her exposed breasts, her heart-shaped butt, and her womanly curves. She was just as vocal about her fondness for his slim, yet muscular build.

“Remain close to one another,” Dr. Braddock said, her voice very official. “Take a moment to admire one another’s bodies. Complement each other on the parts you enjoy.”

Aaron laughed to himself. That wasn’t going to be too hard. Evelyn had so many features he admired, physical and otherwise.

“You have great breasts, Evelyn,” he told her. “They’re so nice and round.”

“You have a great butt, Aaron,” she told him. “It’s so strong and compact.”

“You’ve got a great butt too. I admire it a lot when you’re not looking.”

“I do the same. Why else do you think I love wearing tight jeans?”

She snickered like a couple of giddy school children, but remained as focused as him. Aaron’s eyes drifted up and down her body, scrutinizing her nude figure from head to toe. It made him want so badly to reach out, touch her, and feel her hot flesh. For all he knew, that might have even been the point.

“Now, go ahead and embrace each other,” Dr. Braddock instructed. “Do not kiss. Simply touch. Give special focus to the breasts, buttocks, and genitals. You are lovers now. That means opening yourselves and being open to one another.”

The way she said it made it sound so official, as though they had just graduated from a casual romance to something more serious. That made the experience of touching his lover’s body that much more meaningful, not to mention arousing.

Like gravity pulling them together, Aaron snaked his arms around Evelyn’s waist while she pawed his chest. With growing desire in his eyes, he affectionately grasped her butt while she traced her finger down the sinews of his upper body. She soon made her way down to his torso, eventually reaching his penis, which she lovingly took in both hands. He let out a slight gasp under her touch, which encouraged her to grasp it harder. That, in turn, got him to squeeze her butt, evoking a soft purr from her lover.

He could already feel the lust escalating between them. Every touch felt so hot. Aaron felt his heart rate jump, half the blood in his body rushing downward, causing his penis to become erect. Within that escalating feeling, their naked bodies pressed up against one another like the opposite poles of two magnets coming together. Not kissing her made it somewhat strange, but that might have been a good thing because it gave them a chance to really admire one another’s beauty.

“Aaron…please,” Evelyn whispered, “touch me here.”

Not waiting for him to react, she lightly grasped his wrist and guided his hand between her legs. It marked the first time he touched his love’s private areas. He knew as much about female anatomy as any man with an internet connection, but the feeling of touching the one that belonged to his girlfriend carried extra meaning to it.

“You’re hot already,” Aaron commented, trying hard not to react too strongly.

“And you’re hard,” she said, giving his member a lightly squeeze.

“Don’t be too overt,” Dr. Braddock told them. “It’s good to vocalize some arousal, but let the touching do the talking. Use that to get each other sufficiently aroused.”

He and Evelyn fell silent, but continued sharing affectionate moans as they explored each other’s bodies. They weren’t quite as casual as they’d been when taking each other’s clothes off. He found himself being more careful, as though his lover’s body was a precious relic that required the utmost care. She treated his the same, but Evelyn was a bit more enthusiastic.

Like an athlete getting their second wind, she became bolder with her touching. While still fondling his cock with one hand, she trailed the other all over his body, feeling around his arms, shoulders, back, and butt. Aaron knew Evelyn was an affectionate persona, but he had no idea she could convey so much with touch alone.

He tried to return the favor, lightly stroking the tender flesh between her thighs and feeling up the curves of her body. With each new bit of skin he felt, Aaron’s passion for her grew. It was like seeking the warmth of a fire on a cold winter day, wanting so much to embrace that warmth, but not able to get close enough. That too might have been intentional.

“For effective, pleasurable lovemaking,” Dr. Braddock said, “trust must come before desire and desire must come before intimacy. Your respective passions, as well as your personalities, are uniquely adept at complementing one another. Channeling that feeling will ensure maximum intimacy.”

The woman’s expertise showed. Aaron could already sense his passion for Evelyn intensify to new levels. The way she looked at him was unlike any look he’d ever gotten from a woman. Just being horny and aroused wasn’t enough. He sought more from his love.

“With that in mind, get onto the bed and proceed with your foreplay,” Dr. Braddock told them. “This time, incorporate kissing into your gestures. Convey both your passions and your desire for intimacy.”

Her instructions were so simple, yet seemed so daunting. That didn’t make Aaron any less determined to see it through, though. If anything, it encouraged him and his lover.

His legs already weak from arousal, he and Evelyn climbed onto the bed together. They remained in a partial embrace, not wanting to part from her loving warmth. Whether by accident or instinct, he found himself sitting in the center of the mattress with her, their arms and legs entwined in somewhat messy convergence of flesh. It was like they didn’t know what to do with all their passion and desire.

“You heard the doctor, Aaron. Kiss me,” Evelyn said.

That was just the reminder he needed. Before they fully settled into the bed, he captured her lips with his in a powerful kiss. It wasn’t the most desperate kiss they’d ever shared, but it conveyed the right emotions and incurred the right impact.

As soon as their lips tongued and their tongues twirled, a more thorough round of foreplay unfolded. Aaron more freely explored his lover’s body, fondling her breasts and trailing his fingers over the ticklish parts of her skin. Evelyn did the same, showing a bit more urgency. The way her nails raked over his neck and shoulders, he could literally feel how much she wanted him.

“You’re doing well,” Dr. Braddock said. “You’re building both anticipation while communicating affection. That, in turn, gives meaning to the pleasure you’re about to give one another.”

Encouraged by her words – the idea of sharing such feelings with his lover and making it feel good – Aaron stepped up the pace of his foreplay as well. It was getting pretty heated. He didn’t just feel Evelyn’s desire in her kiss. He felt the extent of her arousal, the passionate energy radiating from her body and the moist heat from between her legs. His arousal was pretty obvious too, as if there was any way to hide a full-fledged erection.

As heated as their passions had grown, though, Aaron still listened intently to Dr. Braddock’s instructions. He hadn’t forgotten why they came here or why he and Evelyn decided to do this.

“The next step will set the tone for that pleasure,” she said. “Mr. Patterson, lie down on your back. Ms. Marsh, got on top of them. From there, give each other mutual oral sex.”

“Isn’t the official term for that a 69?” joked Aaron.

“I don’t go by what’s official. I go by what’s necessary,” she said, still as serious as ever. “Proceed with your oral sex. Please, for the time being, refrain from climaxing.”

“Yes, Doctor,” said Evelyn, not sounding nearly as serious.

Their lips having parted, they shared a playful grin before repositioning themselves accordingly. As instructed, Aaron got on his back and Evelyn got on top of her. That left him face-to-face with her pussy and her with a perfect view of his cock. Still approaching the procedure as important as any other, Aaron went to work eating his lover out.

“Mmm…my love,” she purred as she took his manhood in both hands.

“That’s it,” Dr. Braddock said. “Be gentle, but focused. Get a feel for your lover’s anatomy. Make an effort to memories those intricacies. You’ll need them for later.”

Now more motivated than ever, Aaron channeled his love for Evelyn and his moderate understanding of the female body to give her the pleasure he wanted. He was very careful at first, not wanting to hurt or overwhelm his lover. He quickly found out that she wasn’t as sensitive as he thought. She responded quite favorably to targeted, fervent stimulation.

As he got a feel for how his lover liked to be teased, Evelyn did her part as well. With both hands gripping his shaft, she began suckling along the length of his cock. Like him, she started slowly, emphasizing quality over quantity. She quickly learned that he enjoyed a little energy with his sex. When she sucked him harder, he returned the favor with some extra thorough oral teasing.

Soon, the staging area echoed with muffled moans of bliss. It was like a perfect cycle of sorts, a circle pleasure that complemented their passions. It helped satiate some desires while intensifying others, adding a new layer of intimacy to their act.

As the cycle continued, hot sensations compounding every intimate feeling, Dr. Braddock kept taking notes. She watched the scene before them like an impartial observer. Aaron had no idea what she was writing. He just knew he had to memorize every intricate kink that made his lover moan with delight.

Aaron wasn’t sure how long Dr. Braddock would have them go at it. For all he knew, he was racing against the clock, needing to get his lover to a level of arousal before a certain point. Evelyn had already worked him to a state of peak arousal, forcing him to restrain himself from climaxing too quickly. He had to work quickly, touching and teasing her pussy with every ounce of effort to get her to that special place.

“For maximum intimacy, you must guide your bodies into a similar state of being,” Dr. Braddock told them. “That way, you can share the breadth of the feeling.”

The older woman stopped writing down notes. With his face still buried in his lover’s pussy and his cock still deep in her mouth, Aaron never lost focus, waiting for that moment when his body and Evelyn’s would be in sync. It was hard to tell, but that was why they had a professional present.

“You’re both doing very well, thus far,” the older woman said. “It’s time for the last and most important step. Mr. Patterson and Ms. Marsh, cease your oral sex and reposition yourselves as follows – Ms. Marsh, lie down on your back and spread your legs while Mr. Patterson gets on top of you.”

“Yes, Doctor!” they both said, intense desire having long since replaced playful spirit.

Now fully intoxicated by his passion and lust for this woman, Aaron coordinated his body with Evelyn’s at an efficiency that would’ve made his drill sergeant uncle proud. Evelyn couldn’t get on her back fast enough, lying down in the center of the bed and spreading her legs as wide as her old gymnastic skills would allow. Aaron then got on top of her, his face hovering just inches over hers as he caressed her hands in his.

“Now, Mr. Patterson, enter your partner,” Dr. Braddock said. “Use your hands to hold her legs apart. Ms. Marsh, hold onto your partner’s shoulders to provide leverage.”

Like an order from a higher power, Aaron shifted his grip to his love’s thighs and guided his manhood towards her wet entrance. Then, with a steady thrust of the hips, his manly flesh filled her womanly depths. The hot sensations that followed were a feeling like no other.

“Oh Evelyn!” he gasped.

“Aaron!” Evelyn moaned.

As they took in that powerful moment, Dr. Braddock wrote down something else. Then, her gaze narrowed on him as though she were about to give him the most important message of his life.

“Your bodies are entwined. Start moving together,” she said. “Work your penis within her vagina. Use the knowledge you gained earlier to stimulate your partner’s depths. Do it with the intent of giving her an orgasm.”

“Yes…Doctor,” said Aaron.

Overwhelmed with energy and desires, he began making love to the beautiful woman under him. He dug his knees and feet into the soft mattress, clinging firmly to her thighs as he worked his body against hers in a fervent sexual rhythm. With every movement came a rush of blissful sensations. With those sensations came heightened passions. At that moment, Aaron felt more connected to this woman than he had with anyone else before.

As gasps and grunts filled the room, her loving gaze locked onto his. She clung hard to his shoulders, providing just the right amount of leverage for every motion. In between the passionate moans, they shared affectionate kisses. For such an intimate feeling, it was like icing on top of an already delicious cake.

“Keep the pace of your sex steady,” Dr. Braddock said. “Don’t be afraid to go a little faster, either. Extra stimulation is often necessary for greater pleasure, particularly to those within your personal profile.”

Aaron still took that suggestion as a command. He dug his feet into the bed harder and increased the tempo of their sex. He didn’t do it too hard, but it was still hard enough to rock the bed. If Evelyn’s louder moans were any indication, he was doing something right.

“Aaron…my love! Like that! Just…just like that!” she moaned.

“You hear that, Mr. Patterson? I believe you’ve found her preferred tempo,” Dr. Braddock said. “Now, with that in mind, make sure you stimulate her clit to facilitate orgasm. Most women do not climax from penetration alone. Ms. Marsh is one of them.”

Always one to be thorough, especially when it came to the woman he loved, Aaron followed Dr. Braddock’s instructions. He released his grip on one of her thighs and used his fingers to rub Evelyn’s clitoris with the same rhythmic intensity as their sex. The impact of those efforts was almost immediate.

“Oohhh Aaron!” Evelyn exclaimed. “You’re going to make me come! You’re going to…make me…come!”

Hearing those beautiful words in that beautiful voice made Aaron feel like a star athlete about to win the race. With grit and determination, he intensified their love-making, being more thorough with every thrust of his hips. He watched in awe as his love’s expression tensed and contorted to the oncoming pleasure. He was close too, but he badly wanted to see her go first.

“Your partner is about to orgasm, Mr. Patterson,” Dr. Braddock said. “You can stop withholding yours, if you haven’t already. Try to time your release with hers. It doesn’t have to be simultaneous. It just has to be close.”

Aaron hadn’t realized how close he was to his own release. Getting the go-ahead from Dr. Braddock seemed to remind him. He was almost ready, but he refused to cross that threshold before his lover.

With greater focus, Aaron pumped his manhood into Evenly’s pussy harder, applying more pressure to her clit. Being so in tuned with her – physically, emotionally, and sexually – he could practically feel her peak approaching. When it finally arrived, he watched with utmost pride as his love closed her eyes, threw her head back, and cried out to the heavens in ecstasy.

“Ohhh Aaron!”

It was nothing short of angelic, the look on her face when she came. Her lower back arched, her toes curled, and nails dug into his shoulders, as though he were her lifeboat in an ocean of ecstasy. In addition to the visual spectacle, he felt the hard contractions of her inner muscles around his dick. With just a few more thrusts, that gave him the push he needed to achieve his peak as well.

“Evelyn…I’m coming!” he moaned.

At that moment, time stopped and so did his world. His body tensed and shuddered as an eruption of hot pleasure surged through him. Aaron had experienced plenty of orgasms before, but this one felt extra special. All the anticipation, the effort, and the exertion paid off. His love for Evelyn took a real, tangible form and it felt amazing.

Together, he and his love writhed in the pleasure, their bodies reverberating together in an intimate heat. It felt like a true culmination of their relationship, literally and figuratively. They’d come to Dr. Braddock to make sure they did it right. Who knew doing something so right could feel so good?

“Congratulations,” Dr. Braddock said, finally cracking a smile. “You two have successfully made love to each other.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” said Aaron breathlessly.

“You…are a true expert,” said Evelyn, still in an orgasmic daze.

“I simply evaluate, inform, and instruct, as any competent sex doctor does,” she said as she wrote down a few more notes. “With the completion of your first lesson, I can prescribe a recommended regiment for lovemaking. Given what I’ve observed, I suggest you two make love at least three times a week. Also, start sleeping naked if you haven’t already.”

“We haven’t,” said Aaron, “but I’m looking forward to it now.”

“Me too!” said Evelyn playfully. “Doctor’s orders, after all.”

They shared a playful laugh, already settling into their post-lovemaking afterglow. As Aaron withdrew his flesh from his lover, he kissed her passionately to cap off a successful and critical experience.

As they shared that moment, their naked bodies entwined on the bed of a sex doctor’s office, Aaron took a moment to appreciate the time in which he lived. He and Evelyn resided in a world where couples didn’t have to fumble around on their own in learning how to make love. There were experienced professionals to help them skip all that awkwardness. How his parents and everyone before them managed sex without such resources was beyond him.

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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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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Avenging Desire” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story entitled “Avenging Desire.” It’s not based on any real events, but it was inspired by the recent hype surrounding the debut of “Avengers: Infinity War.” Enjoy!

The wait was almost over. The day that fans of Marvel and superhero movies had been waiting for had finally arrived. “Avengers: Infinity War” was set to release and fans of all kinds had lined up outside the MaxCinema IMAX theater for the midnight showing.

Michelle Meyers considered herself one of those fans. In fact, she considered herself a bigger fan than 90 percent of those waiting in line, thinking they could get away with not pre-ordering tickets two weeks ahead of time. A few days ago, she would’ve laughed at them for their lack of foresight. Now, if they knew her current predicament, they’d probably be laughing at her.

“The biggest movie premier of my life,” Michelle mused as she sat on the hood of her car, “and fate finds a way to make it harder for me… and break my heart, in the process.”

Muttering a string of curses to herself, she looked away from the crowd and checked her phone. She had a little more than an hour before the midnight premier of the movie. She should’ve been more excited than any sane woman should for a movie premier. It was the cinematic event of a lifetime and Michelle thought she’d prepared for it, even going so far as to get a Black Widow costume.

Then, it happened. More specifically, her boyfriend happened. Eric Landon, the man she’d dated for two years and seen more than her share of superhero movies with, broke up with her. On top of that, she found out he’d been cheating on her with some girl he met on a comic book message board, of all places. If that weren’t bad enough, he’d been the one to pre-order their tickets.

“Fuck you, Eric,” Michelle said, still staring at her phone, which had an old picture of them in the background. “Fuck you for being worse than Thanos when it comes to loving your girlfriend. The least you could’ve done was break my heart after we saw the movie.”

She kept cursing her ex under her breath and in her mind, hoping that new girl he left her for would bust his balls like the Hulk every chance she got. Michelle had gone through bad break-ups before, but she’d never hated someone so much for ending a relationship at the worst possible time.

It wasn’t just that the tickets he bought had been in his name. She’d also found out just a few hours ago that Eric intended to use what should’ve been her ticket to take his new girlfriend to see the movie. For all she knew, they were already in line and Eric was wearing the same old Captain America T-shirt he wore on their first date.

It was tempting to just hunt him down, kick his ass in public, and take the ticket that was rightfully hers. However, Michelle had another plan, one that would help her see the movie and get back at her ex. It required a little cunning and sacrifice on her part, but for a chance to see “Avengers: Infinity War” tonight, she was willing to take that chance.

As time ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace, Michelle kept checking her phone, watching as the premier drew closer by the second. Finally, she heard the voice she’d been waiting.

“Michelle Meyers…is that you?” said Samuel Hartman, the man who held the keys to making her night a success.

“That’s me,” Michelle said, putting on her best smile and using her most seductive tone. “You’re right on time, Sam.”

“I know you couldn’t give too many specifics with your text, but how do you want to…”

Michelle held up her hand to silence him. He sounded so nervous, if not a little anxious. She couldn’t have that. She had to maintain a certain mood. It was the only way they could both get what they wanted.

“Don’t overthink this, Sam. I was vague for a reason,” she said as she got off the hood of her car. “First, let me see the tickets. I need to be sure…more so than I was with Eric.”

“Of course,” he replied, already sounding somewhat calmer.

She watched as Sam reached into his back pocket, took out his wallet, and showed her two movie tickets to the “Avengers: Infinity War” premier, which was set to begin in under an hour. Michelle then approached him, scrutinizing the tickets to make sure they were real. Having worked in a movie theater during high school, she knew how to spot fakes. Near as she could tell, they were real.

“Wow! You got great seats,” Michelle said with a smile.

“My older brother is a real movie junky,” Sam said. “He has picking the best seats down to a science.”

“And you thought to use it on the biggest movie premier of the past decade…smart.”

“Well, in my defense, I do consider myself an Avengers fan. Plus, I failed miserably to get tickets to the Black Panther movie and I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.”

“Except, you already had someone to share those tickets with, didn’t you?” Michelle said.

“I did,” he admitted, “but that’s where my sister’s terrible luck is your gain. She and I were going to see this movie tonight, just like we have with every MCU movie. Then, her car breaks down on her way back from Florida and she’s not going to be in until tomorrow night.”

“My older brother is a mechanic. I’ll get him to fix that car for free if this is as worth it as I hope.”

Michelle took a step closer and, in a move that would’ve made the Black Widow proud, pulled the young man into an intimate embrace. It was a lot more intimate than she usually offered for someone she’d just met, but for Sam and the promise of seeing “Avengers: Infinity War,” she made an exception.

Sam wasn’t just a guy who happened to have a spare ticket to the movie. The only reason Michelle knew him was because he worked for the same law firm as Eric. Sam even outranked him technically, having been close to one of the partners at the firm. She’d met him at the office Christmas party and remembered that he’d recently endured a nasty break-up as well. That aligned their goals in ways beyond the movie.

Michelle had overheard Eric talking to Sam about “Avengers: Infinity War” earlier in the week, just before she found out about his lying, cheating antics. She also remembered Sam being less an asshole when debating who could lift Thor’s hammer. That made the revelation that he had a spare ticket even more enticing. It also made her method of payment much clearer.

“Um…Michelle?” said Sam, still holding the tickets and his wallet.

“Yes, Sam?” said Michelle, smiling playfully as she let her body press against his.

“I know you said you wanted to earn this ticket,” he told her.

“I still do,” she replied seductively.

“For the record, though…I still would’ve accepted cash. I would’ve even offered a discount after what Eric did to you. I mean…cheating on you and using his ticket on the girl he cheated with? That’s just wrong!”

“It’s for that exact reason I didn’t accept the discount. You see, unlike Eric, I prefer to put in the work. I like doing things the hard way. It makes the end results so much more rewarding.”

With each word she spoke, Michelle channeled every ounce her flirting skills. She hadn’t used those skills much since college and even back then, she needed a little alcohol to really maximize the effect. True to her word, she decided to push herself with Sam and for all the right reasons.

As he stood dumbfounded in her embrace, she casually grasped his arms and lowered them so that he put the tickets and his wallet away. She then guided his arms around her waist so they could share a more complete embrace. She could still sense Sam overthinking things to some extent, but if the sudden hardness in his pants were any indication, his thoughts were giving way to action. Tony Stark would’ve been proud.

“That’s also why I parked my car all the way out here,” Michelle told him, gesturing towards her car. “It’s a long walk to the theater, it’s in a corner lot, and it’s right across from that pile of broken concrete that the construction crews haven’t cleaned up yet.”

“Yeah, I figured there was a reason for that,” said Sam with an awkward grin.

“The reason is simple,” she said more intently. “It’s remote and private. On top of that, all the cops are in the theater, making sure nobody sneaks in a bottle of bourbon inside a toy hammer.”

“Would you think less of me if I tried something like that when I saw Thor: Ragnarok last year?”

“Actually…I’d find that incredibly hot.”

She must have sounded like Scarlett Johannsen because she swore she felt a bulge form in Sam’s pants instantly. Embracing him under the poor illumination of a street light, the crowded theater in the distance taking up everyone else’s attention, she and Sam might as well have been in the same underground cave as Thor was in “Avengers: Age of Ultron.”

Michelle didn’t know Sam that well, but he loved superhero movies like her and he hadn’t given away her ticket to “Avengers: Infinity War” to some undeserving bitch. That was more than enough to evoke the desires she needed to make their little transaction work.

The first part of it involved a simple kiss, which Michelle gave Sam without hesitation. She even threw in a little tongue with some extra body contact. That actually surprised him, but in the best possible way.

“Whoa,” Sam said after their lips parted, “you’re very direct.”

“I am when I have to be,” she quipped.

“Eric once mentioned how determined you could be when in the right mindset. I think he undersold that trait.”

“Please don’t mention that name from here on out. As far as I’m concerned, there are only three things that matter right now…you, me, and seeing this goddamn movie.”

Michelle kissed him again, being even more direct than before. She practically shoved her tongue into his mouth, grabbed his wrist and guiding his hands down onto her butt. That time, Sam didn’t hesitate. Instead, he kissed back. Apparently, his brain had caught up with the rest of his body. Much like the Avengers, they were ready to assemble for the ultimate mission.

Having set the tone and made her intentions clear, Michelle sensed they were ready for the next part of their transaction. That meant a different kind of assembling.

“Now then,” Michelle said, after their lips parted, “why don’t we take this to the back seat of my car and finalize our little deal?”

“Between this movie and your kissing skills…I’m just going to shut up now.”

“Works for me!”

Tapping the same giddy spirit she felt years ago when she came out of the first “Iron Man” movie, she latched onto Sam’s arm and led him to her car. As soon as she opened the rear passenger doors, she couldn’t get into the back seat with him fast enough.

Her car wasn’t the most spacious vehicle in the world, but she’d cleaned it out that afternoon, knowing she’d need every bit of space for tonight. As soon as she closed the door behind her, doing one quick check to make sure nobody was in sight, Michelle smothered Sam with healthy dose of kissing and fondling.

Before long, he was lying on the back seat with her on top of him, his hands back on her butt as their still-clothed bodies pressed together in the confined space. She more she kissed him, the more she kissed back. The more she pawed his chest, the more he squeezed his butt. It wasn’t quite the kind of teamwork the Avengers embodied, but it still seemed fitting.

All the kissing and touching helped things heat up very quickly. Already, Michelle felt the air inside her car get hotter and stickier. It made staying fully clothed unbearable for a second longer.

“Sam,” she said, already breathless as she lay on top of him, “it’s getting hotter than Surtur’s balls in here. What do you we ditch these itchy clothes?”

Sam just grinned, keeping his promise to shut up while she carried out their little transaction. That fact alone – him actually keeping a promise – already put him above her ex. That might very well make the next part even more enjoyable.

Rising up in the seat, still straddling his waist, Michelle took off her Black Widow themed T-shirt to reveal a matching black bra. Then, with the same seductive glance that made Scarlett Johannsen the best part of “Iron Man 2,” she unhooked the clasp and removed it, allowing her breasts to tumble free.

“Michelle,” Sam said, his eyes widening with delight at the sight of her breasts.

“You can call me Natasha Romanov if you want,” Michelle said playfully, doing her best Russian accent.

“I’ll…stick to Michelle,” he said jokingly.

They both laughed and kissed again. Sam didn’t need help guiding his hands to her breasts. He quickly found his way and began fondling them with both hands. He wasn’t too hard. He was actually careful. Clearly, he had fondled breasts before and was pretty good at it. That got Michelle even more eager to get out of her clothes.

First, she helped Sam keep up. As he fondled and admired her breasts, she undid his button-up shirt with an Avengers logo on the chest. Once that was off, she undid his belt buckle and pants. That proved more challenging because that bulge she felt earlier had grown quite a bit. Still determined, both to finish the job and see the movie, she managed to pull them off, boxers and all.

“That’s better,” Sam said as he eagerly kicked off his pants.

“Yes…much better,” said Michelle.

She felt like a drunken prom date, getting her first glimpse of Sam’s dick. In addition to being in better shape than Eric, Sam was more endowed as well. In the spirit of Thor, she looked to test if he was worthy of it. That also meant testing just how determined she was to see “Avengers: Infinity War.”

“I’m going to suck your dick, now,” she told him. “Then, I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you so well that you’ll deem me worthy of that ticket…so worthy that Thor, himself, would be proud.”

“You just keep sweetening this deal, Michelle,” Sam said with the widest grin she’d ever seen on a man.

He must have felt like Tony Stark at that moment and Michelle intended to affirm that feeling. Still hovering over him, letting him admire and touch her breasts, she reached down and began fondling his cock. That got a favorable reaction, one that she followed to the utmost.

With his rigid member in hand, she adjusted herself so that she could get a more up-close look at his manhood. Sam did the same, rising up from the seat so she had room to work. Now comfortably resting with his back against the door, Michelle leaned in and took his length into her mouth.

“Oh yeah!” he moaned upon feeling her lips around his shaft.

Encouraged, she began sucking him off, treating it like a mission ordered by Captain America himself. Michelle usually wasn’t that eager to give a blowjob. When she’d been with Eric, he often had to sweet-talk her into it. She didn’t need that with Sam. He’d already given her plenty of incentive to both go the extra distance and even enjoy it a little.

On paper, it seemed like a chore. She would give a man sex. He’d give her a ticket to see “Avengers: Infinity War.” It was a simple, albeit lurid transaction. It might have even been illicit, according to her uncle, who happened to be a cop. Michelle refused to approach it like that, though. Like Scott Lang in “Ant Man,” she saw it as an opportunity worth pursuing.

Whether she was just that excited about the movie or just extra horny for some reason, Michelle’s efforts paid off. Eric’s blissful moans were proof enough of that, as well as the way his dick throbbed in her mouth. After sucking and slithering her way along his length, he was as hard as the Hulk’s bicep. That was her queue for the next part.

“Mmm…so strong and hard,” Michelle said playfully. “Ready to smash my pussy like the Hulk, Sam?”

“Hell yeah!” Sam said, now every bit as into it as her.

She grinned up at him, giving the tip of his dick one last lick in anticipation. She then rose up, undid her tight-fitting black pants, and pulled them down, along with her panties. Upon kicking them off with her sandals, Michelle eagerly straddled him so that his member was perfectly aligned with her wet opening.

“For the record,” she said, now gazing intently into his eyes, “I’m not just doing this for a movie ticket. I’m doing this to avenge the pain my ex caused me.”

“Avenge huh?” said Sam in a humored tone. “I can totally respect that!”

He smiled playfully and she smiled back before capturing his lips again. Then, as their tongues became entwined, Michelle thrust her hips downward and drove his cock up into her.

A surge of sharp sensations followed. The penetration was surprisingly smooth. She’d gotten herself much wetter than she’d thought. Either Sam was having an effect on her or the prospect of seeing “Avengers: Infinity War” made her just that horny. She preferred to think it was a little of both.

“Ohhh Michelle!” Sam moaned.

“Yeah…you like that?” Michelle said curtly. “You like how I avenge my ex?”

“Ohhh fuck yeah! Avenge him…just like that!”

She laughed playfully and kept kissing him, all while thoroughly gyrating her hips and building up towards a sexual rhythm. She clung to his shoulders while he held onto her waist, their naked bodies gliding and moving together in a sexual heat. Michelle even noticed the windows fogging up from all the heat and sweat. It was her kind of avenging, indeed.

As if possessed by the devious spirit of Loki, Michelle rode Sam’s cock with a passion, making it a point to fuck him better than she’d fucked Eric in the last few months of their relationship. She was hard and thorough with every movement, really working his length into her depths. Together, they made a potent heat within her car, even rocking it at times.

Soon, it didn’t feel like an obstacle between her and seeing “Avengers: Infinity War.” It was almost like a bonus, getting some hot sex before the movie. It almost didn’t seem fair, but then again, it wasn’t fair how her ex treated her so she figured they were officially even.

Within the back seat, despite the inherent confinement, she and Sam managed to go at it longer than she’d expected. He even managed to work up a good sweat, his chest glistening under the limited lighting from outside. She felt some sweat beading up on her naked skin as well as they worked their way towards a thunderous peak.

It even got a little chaotic, naked bodies shifting around while hands eagerly roamed. At one point, Sam was squeezing her butt as she rode him and she was pinching his nipples. At another, she was leaning back as she rode him so he could keep fondling her breasts. Whatever form their sex took, it had the same goals. One involved seeing the movie. The other involved something more basic.

“Michelle, I…I’m close!” Sam grunted, his every breath becoming more labored. “I’m getting real…real close!”

“Ooh me too, Sam!” Michelle moaned. “Please…come first. I want you…to come first!”

That seemed so counterintuitive, a woman wanting a man to climax first during sex. Then again, it was part of the transaction. She promised to give him a satisfying fuck in exchange for that ticket. That meant his peak had priority, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t also enjoy it.

Still leaning back, allowing Sam to keep admiring her breasts, Michelle worked her hips in a final surge of energy. Like that last desperate push the Avengers made against the Chitari in the first movie, she was determined to finish. Much like her favorite superhero team, she eventually triumphed.

“Ohhh Michelle!” Sam cried out as he finally climaxed.

It was so abrupt, but intense. Michelle felt Sam’s body tense within her grasp, his hands really squeezing her butt as the feeling took over. She finally slowed her motions, watching as Sam’s face contorted to the pleasure that came along with his release. She made sure he enjoyed it, remaining on top of him while his dick throbbed inside her.

Since she was so close to her own climax, though, she kept the rhythm going for a bit longer. From that final push, along with a little extra self-stimulation, she managed to achieve orgasm as well. She hadn’t expected it, as part of her deal with Sam. The fact she could just made the avenging that much more satisfying.

“Mmm…Sam!” Michelle moaned. “Avenge…with me!”

That sounded so cheesy out loud, but in a state of orgasmic bliss, she was beyond caring. With Sam still reeling from his own peak, Michelle grabbed onto his shoulders, closed her eyes, and threw her head back as she let out a cry that felt like it came straight from Asgard.

She was much louder and more energetic than she’d intended. However, she’d always enjoyed being vocal during sex. Adding that on top of her excitement on seeing “Avengers: Infinity War” just made her deal with Sam that much sweeter.

“I think…we’re done avenging,” said Sam breathlessly.

“That’s for sure!” said Michelle, still dazed by her orgasm.

Their naked bodies remained entwined as she soaked in the feeling, taking in every last ripple of pleasure that coursed up through her body. She even threw in a sultry kiss and an extra embrace. It helped let Sam know that what they had just done was more than just a transaction for movie tickets.

Once the feeling passed, their bodies parted and Michelle caught her breath. Still sweaty and sticky, she and Sam were sure to look pretty disheveled in the theater. She didn’t care, though. She was too excited about the movie, among other things.

“Come on,” she told him. “Let’s get dressed and get in line. We’ve got a movie to see!”

“I haven’t forgotten,” said Sam as he gathered his clothes.

As soon as he found his pants, he took his wallet out again and handed her the ticket. Michelle, still fully nude, eagerly took it. Having done her part and completed the deal, it was hers now. Just holding it in her hand helped it feel real.

“I’m also glad you didn’t take the discount price I offered,” Sam told her.

“Of course you didn’t,” Michelle teased as she put the ticket in her purse. “This way, you got to have sex.”

“That, and I helped avenge something that needed avenging,” he said, “On the night of an Avengers movie premier, I can’t think of anything more fitting.”

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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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Dangerous Double Standards And The Distressing Stories They Tell

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When it comes to conveying complex ideas in an understandable way, I don’t consider myself exceptionally skilled. When it comes to telling a story, though, that’s a skill I know I have and not just because I aced every essay question in college.

Sometimes, a story is the best way to convey an idea and the emotional weight it carries. Anyone can list the details of complex issues like gun control, abortion rights, or net neutrality. Some, like John Oliver, can even make it funny or entertaining. However, explaining what an issue is doesn’t necessarily convey why it matters.

Whenever I talk about gender double standards, be it uncomfortable thought experiments or imbalances in our sexual attitudes, I try to do so in a way that highlights the larger implications. Those implications, I believe, are part of the reason why there’s so much hostility on issues like the anti-harassment movement, representation in popular culture, and fair treatment under the law.

I don’t want to belabor the points I’ve made on that topic in the past. Instead, I want to tell a quick story that I thought about turning into a short novel. Then, something happened in the process that struck me on a personal level. Read the following story and see if you can tell where the process broke down.

An average man, single and living alone, is walking down the street on a Saturday evening. It’s cold and rainy. Not many people are out in these conditions.

Then, as he passes by the dumpster near his home, he sees a girl who can’t be older than 10-years-old huddling under some dirty boxes. She’s wearing dirty clothes, she’s shivering, and is clearly in a bad situation.

The man feels sorrow and concern for the girl. He asks her where her parents are. He learns that the girl has run away. Her mother was abusive, even showing him some scars she had from when her mother cut her with a fork. Horrified, the man offers to help the girl. She eagerly accepts.

The man takes the girl home, gives her some badly-needed food, lets her take a hot bath, and lets her sleep in his bed while he sleeps on the couch. The next morning, he calls social services and finds out the girl’s mother is nowhere to be found. Overwhelmed and under-staffed, they are unable to find any relatives to take care of her.

Having grown fond of her company, he offers to look after her. The girl eagerly accepts. The man spends the next several weeks caring for her, getting her new clothes and introducing her to his family. At first, his parents and siblings are uncertain about him taking care of a kid. When they meet her and see how much she loves him, their worries quickly fade.

As time goes on, the girl comes to love the man as a father. She starts calling him daddy. At first, he keeps reminding her that he’s not her real father. Soon, he stops and just smiles. The girl enriches his life in ways he never imagined. He wants to be a father to this girl who isn’t his. He wants to love her in the way she deserves.

Then, one day, a woman arrives at his door. She’s angry, disheveled, and badly dressed. She claims to be the girl’s mother. When the girl sees her, she’s terrified and hides behind the man in fear. The man demands that she leave, but she refuses to leave without her daughter. He threatens to call the police, but she threatens to do the same.

She then takes a step closer, revealing bad teeth, foul breath, and loveless eyes, and presents him with an ultimatum. If he doesn’t hand over the girl, she’ll call social services, the police, and the local news crew and tell him that he’s a sick pervert who took a girl off the streets just so he could groom her to be his personal slave.

It doesn’t stop there. She points out that he’s single, unmarried, and living by himself. Conversely, she’s just a poor woman who got taken advantage of by the girl’s biological father, fled out of fear for their safety, and got tragically separated in the process. All she wants to do is get her daughter back and away from a sadistic pervert. She even says she’ll claim he gave her all the girl’s scars.

In that story, he won’t be the man who took a poor little girl under his care and loved her like a father. He’ll become a disgusting pervert, his reputation destroyed and his life ruined. The fact the girls loves him will just be proof of how much he’s groomed her to be his slave.

The man is horrified. The girl says her mother is a liar and a monster. The woman just laughs before asking one more time for the man to hand over the girl. The man, seeing the terrified look in the girl’s eyes, doesn’t want to see her suffer. He then gets up in her face and tells her this.

“You stay the hell away from her! She belongs with me! Lie all you want. I know the truth and so does she.”

The woman just shakes her head and laughs again.

“It doesn’t matter what the truth is. Everyone will believe me at my worst before they believe you at your best.”

This is as far as I could take the story. At this point, the creative process broke down for me. For someone like me who loves telling stories, sexy or otherwise, that’s akin to tripping over my own feet in the middle of a race. It usually takes a lot for me to throw my hands up and give up on a story. This was one of them.

Image result for man in defeat

That’s because when I imagined that final confrontation, I could not come up with a way to see it through. I can easily see the man fighting the woman’s accusations and winning out in the end. I can also see the woman winning out and the man having his life ruined, all because he showed compassion for a little girl.

The fact that I can see both outcomes as equally possible really bothers me and not just because I found myself unable to finish the story. In telling that story, I touched on a disturbing implication of double standards and the assumptions we have about men, women, and how they treat one another.

The story was partially inspired by an incident in the UK where a man, who happens to be a widower, took his teenage daughter on a vacation. When they checked into a motel, though, the staff got suspicious that an older man was traveling with a teenage girl. They called the police on him, suspecting that he might be a pedophile.

 The dad and daughter were staying over for trip to Thorpe Park together

By most measures, it’s a simple, albeit egregious misunderstanding. It deeply disturbed the girl and put the father in a terrible position. He was able to show the staff pictures and IDs to prove that he was the girl’s father and not some pervert. The damage was done, though.

When I read that story, I found myself wondering what would’ve happened if the man hadn’t had those family pictures. Then, I wondered what would’ve happened if the man wasn’t a blood relative of the girl. Then, and this is where the impact got especially heavy, I wondered what would’ve happened if the man had just tried to help a girl who had run away and had nowhere to go.

If he had been a woman helping a 14-year-old girl in her time of need, I doubt anyone would’ve batted an eye. However, because this involves a man and expectations about parenting is different for men, the situation takes on a much darker undertone.

Image result for man with daughter

That undertone highlights why these gender double standards can be so damaging. It’s one thing for those standards to inspire overplayed tropes about men in sitcoms. When they create a real incentive for people to not do the compassionate thing, that’s not just a problem. That creates real, tangible harm in the world.

Men are capable of kindness and compassion. Most decent people believe this. However, when there’s a situation in which assuming the best for one gender requires that you assume the worst for another, that reflects the kind of double standard that needs to be confronted.

We’re already seeing men show more reluctance in being alone with women. Any level of reluctance requires a certain level of fear. When it gets to a point that just being alone with another human being scares us, then that’s a sign that something is very wrong with our attitudes.

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Filed under gender issues, sex in society, sexuality

“Love Like Champions” A Sexy Short Story (About Super Bowl LII)

The following is a short, sexy story that was directly inspired by the outcome of Super Bowl LII and some of the passionate Eagles fans that I know personally. Enjoy!

“This game, Darla…this fucking game,” said Adam Mayfield, sounding more stressed than any man in his mid-30s should.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve said that, Adam,” Darla groaned, who’d stopped trying to calm him down.

“You’ve been keeping track?”

“What else is there to do when we’re out of buffalo wings and cheese dip?”

“I’m sorry, damn it!” he said. “It’s just…I had this same feeling 13 years ago the last time the Eagles played the Pats in the Super Bowl. That did not turn out well.”

“No need to remind me,” said Darla. “I remember…more than you know.”

He probably didn’t hear that last part. He was too caught up in the spectacle that was Super Bowl LII. Darla had anticipated a stressful night since the Eagles topped the Vikings two weeks ago. She and her long-time boyfriend, Adam, were as big an Eagles fan as they came. Them being in the Super Bowl was a test of heart, in more ways than one.

Unlike Adam, Darla hadn’t been born in Philadelphia. She’d moved there from Scranton about 15 years ago, following her father and uncle, who helped her get a job at a mortgage company. Being from a family with three brothers, each being big football fans themselves, she thought she knew what it meant to be a fan when she embraced the Eagles as her home team. Adam proved her wrong.

“How can I love a team so much, but be so frustrated by them?” Darla groaned.

She made it a point to say that out loud, hoping her lover would get the message. Either he was ignoring her or he’d tuned everything out. She was inclined to believe the latter, but Darla could never be sure. Adam was such a passionate man. That was a big reason why she fell in love with him. The frustrating part was how he channeled it during football season.

Adam came from a long line of Eagles fans. He’d been born in Philadelphia. His parents, grandparents, and siblings were all passionate about their team. During every game in every season, they wore their heart on their sleeve, cheering and lamenting their team through every win and every loss.

Darla thought she could handle cheering with them. She learned early on that Adam and his family were on a whole other level. It showed in how elated they were when the Eagles won and how miserable they were when the Eagles lost. However, even though she’d been with Adam for over a decade, she’d never seen him react to a Super Bowl loss. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“I may have to take a trip to Baltimore tomorrow,” she muttered.

As much as Darla wanted to convey her sentiment to Adam, she too had an investment in the game. She didn’t want to see her team lose either. She was sick of getting crap from the Cowboys, Steelers, and 49er fans in her family, whose teams had multiple rings while hers had none. That had to change at some point, but she preferred it changed tonight.

“It’s not enough of a lead,” Adam said, his hands clasped together as though he were praying to the football gods. “38 to 33 with more than two minutes left and Tom fucking Brady at quarterback? If the Falcons couldn’t hold on with a 25-point lead last year, for crying out loud!”

“These aren’t the Falcons, babe. These are the Eagles,” Darla reminded him. “This is our team.”

“I know. That’s what scares me even more.”

His pessimism was annoying, but usually right. There was a reason why the Eagles had never won a Super Bowl. They had a tendency to choke in these exact situations whereas the Patriots seemed to thrive.

Darla stayed on her side of the couch, almost not wanting to watch Brady pull off another late-game miracle at the expense of her favorite team. She couldn’t turn away, though. She kept watching.

It felt like her stomach was up in her throat. She noticed Adam anxiously tapping his feet, something he only did when he was extremely nervous. The last time she saw that kind of nervousness, he asked her to move in with him. She could only imagine the kind of tension he felt now.

It was second and two from the 33. The Patriots offense had over two minutes left, a timeout, and the greatest quarterback of all time being coached by one of the greatest coaches of all time. It seemed like the story had already been written. Brady would drive the Patriots down the field, score the game-winning touchdown, and go home as a six-time Super Bowl champion while the Eagles remained winless in the big game.

“Please, just get it over with,” Adam groaned. “My heart can only take so much of this shit.”

“They’ll find a way,” said Darla, trying to will the fates in her team’s favor. “They have to!”

They watched on. The ball was snapped. Then, it happened.

“FUMBLE!” Adam shouted, shooting up from the couch as though he’d been struck by lightning.

“THEY GOT IT! EAGLES BALL!” Darla said, shouting as well.

In an instant, the mood shifted from dread to elation. She shot up and embraced her boyfriend and cheered at the sudden turn of events. She could even hear the cheers outside. All of downtown Philadelphia must have seen what they just saw. The Eagles had just forced a fumble and recovered the ball. The sight of Tom Brady, the so-called greatest of all time, sitting there on the turf in defeat was just too satisfying.

“It’s really happening. They might really do it!” Darla cheered, still clinging to her boyfriend.

“I know! It’s not over yet, but they’re close!” Adam exclaimed. “They’re so goddamn close this time!”

“Then, you better hold onto me, babe. I’m still not sure this is real.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not letting go until the last tic on the clock!”

It might have been superstition. It might have been the sheer weight of the moment. Whatever the reason, she and Adam clung to one another, still trembling with excitement at the prospect of their team finally winning the Super Bowl. If that moment finally came, it had to happen when they were in each other’s arms. It just had to be that way.

Her heart still racing and her passions still in overdrive, she and Adam sat back down on the couch. He grasped her hand firmly while she clung to his favorite Eagles jersey, which he wore for every game. They watched as the Eagles did the most they could with the ball.

They ran it three times, taking as much time off the clock as possible. They couldn’t get a first down, but they still managed a field goal, putting them up 41 to 33. There was still a minute left. Even with no timeouts, it was still the New England Patriots. It was still Tom Brady at quarterback.

“41 to 33,” Darla said, holding her lover a bit closer. “That’s going to be the final score.”

“I hope you’re right, Darla. I really do,” Adam said, still affected by the Eagles’ history of disappointment.

“It’ll happen. I know it will. You’ll see!”

She made it sound as though she’d already seen the final score. Darla learned early on in her time as an Eagles fan that victory was never secure. However, she refused to give into the dread this time. She was certain her team would win.

The next minute might have been the longest in the history of sports. The Patriots got the kickoff. They messed up on a few plays, but managed to move the ball to midfield. With each yard they gained, she felt Adam tremble a bit more, doubt and dread creeping into him with every play. She held him a little closer, as if to protect him from it. She wanted him to believe as strongly as she did.

Finally, it all came down to one play. With 9 seconds left and no timeouts, it was down to a final Hail Mary to the end zone.

“This is it,” Darla told him. “This is the last play of the game.”

“Please, be right,” Adam said. “I want you to be right…so much.”

“I know.”

“No…I don’t think you do.”

Darla cast her lover a strange glance, but didn’t have time to scrutinize it. The play was about to go off. As soon as the Patriots snapped the ball, time seemed to move in slow-motion.

For a moment, it looked like Brady would get sacked. She sensed Adam wanting to shoot up and cheer. That didn’t happen, though. He managed to escape, as he always did, and got the throw off. At that moment, Darla almost felt her heart crack again.

“Not this time,” she said in defiance.

She and Adam watched, like a couple of deer looking at an oncoming train. The ball hung up in the air for an eternity. The game clock now read zero. It all came down to this.

Finally, in an instant, it actually happened. The ball hit the ground. The pass was incomplete. The game was over and the Philadelphia Eagles were Super Bowl champions.

“YES! THEY DID IT! THEY REALLY FUCKING DID IT!” Adam exclaimed.

“THEY WON! OH MY GOD! THE EAGLES WON!” Darla exclaimed.

In a moment of pure, unadulterated elation, Darla and Adam cheered with the rest of Philadelphia. They jumped up from the couch and hugged, as though they’d just won the lottery. Earlier that year, winning the lottery seemed more likely than seeing the Eagles win their first ever Super Bowl. After only knowing disappointment for so long, Eagles fans like her and Adam could finally say that they won.

They kept wildly hugging each other and cheering, watching as the confetti fell on their favorite team. They didn’t care that they knocked over some empty beer bottles and crumbled up bags of chips. Their team had won. For once, she and Adam knew what it felt like for their favorite team to be a Super Bowl champion.

At one point after all the cheering, they settled down enough to face each other. Adam hadn’t let go of her since before the fumble. She hadn’t let go of him either, still clinging to his favorite jersey. Now, in this moment of pure elation, they looked at each other with a sense of both shock and triumph.

“You were right, babe. You were right,” Adam said.

“Yeah, I guess I was,” Darla said with a smug grin.

“You really have no idea how much I wanted the Eagles to win this…to finally see them win a championship.”

“You don’t need to tell me. I know you’re a bigger Eagles fan than I’ll ever be, Adam. You deserve to run down Broad Street and cheer with other fans like you.”

“See, that’s just it,” he said in a more serious tone. “I wasn’t planning on doing that. My buddies at the office all had elaborate plans for how they would celebrate if they won, but I wanted no part of it. I knew if this actually happened…if the Eagles actually won…this is where I’d want to be.”

Darla’s heart skipped a beat. Adam had that look in his eye, the kind she saw when he wanted to get extra romantic with her. She hadn’t expected to see that tonight, even if the Eagles won. During football season, she’d always been content to let him cheer victor or mourn defeat in his own way. It was an unspoken rule, of sorts, that they stayed out of each other’s way when that happened.

However, there was something different about this and not just because the Eagles had won the Super Bowl. That same passion that Adam usually channeled into every Eagles game was now solely focused on her.

“Darla, I know I’m not the easiest guy to love. Hell, I’m not even the top 50,” he told her.

“Adam, I know you get worked up after Eagles games,” Darla said. “Are you really sure you want talk to me like this after the biggest game in Eagles history?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Adam said without hesitation. “We’ve been together for 13 years now. In that time, we’ve built a great life together…one that often revolves around rooting for the Eagles. I know I don’t say it enough and I doubt I’ll ever have the mind to say it again, but I’ve treasured every moment of that life…from the worst loses to this amazing win.”

Now, Darla’s hard raced even more than it had before the fumble. This couldn’t possibly be what it sounded like. She and Adam had already discussed it on more than one occasion. They were boyfriend and girlfriend. They had made that relationship work for over a decade. She thought that was how it had to be. Darla had made peace with that long ago.

However, when she saw Adam get down on one knee, hold her hand in his, and look up at her as though she were the Lombardi Trophy, it began to sank in. A Super Bowl parade wouldn’t be the only celebration tonight.

“Darla Mason,” Adam said, “when we met 13 years ago, I was at the lowest possible point. The Eagles had just lost the Super Bowl. I had no job, too much student debt, and a bad history of dating women who couldn’t put up with me. You changed that. You came along when I was at my lowest, stuck with me when you could’ve walked away, and loved me more than I ever deserved.”

“Adam…you’re making me feel like the Super Bowl MVP, here,” Darla said, her heart ready to burst.

“Now, here we are…13 years later, watching the same Philadelphia Eagles beat the New England Patriots. We’ve gone from one devastating lost to the most exhilarating victory possible. I say, let’s make it our own personal dynasty! Merry me, Darla. Merry me and let’s fly together like a couple of Eagles!”

Darla didn’t think it was possible for something to sound so corny, yet so heartfelt. Adam had to have rehearsed it ways for weeks on end, possibly since the Eagles clinched a playoff spot. The Eagles win the Super Bowl. He proposes to her. Given how they came together after they lost 13 years ago, it seemed so fitting. That made her response just as obvious.

“Yes!” Darla said eagerly. “Yes, Adam…I will marry you.”

“God, I love you, Darla.”

“I love you too, my future husband. Now, shut up and kiss me like a champion!”

Adam didn’t need a trophy or a call from the President to heed her desire. He shot up from the floor, threw his arms around her, and embraced her passionately as they came together in a deep kiss.

It still took a moment to sink in, both the Eagles being Super Bowl champions and her being engaged now. It was a hell of a feeling, a bigger rush than anything she’d felt before in her life. The sound of rowdy Eagles fans cheering outside could be heard. She imagined there would be a hell of a party down Broad Street for the rest of the night. They could enjoy that party. She intended to have one of her own with Adam.

As they kissed and hugged, the sound and images of the Eagles’ victory playing out on the TV, Darla felt those same passions that she and Adam channeled so strongly take a new form. They were champions. They were engaged. They were in love. With so much excitement and elation surrounding them, there was only one other way this night could be more perfect.

“Adam,” Darla said breathlessly as their lips briefly parted.

“Yes, my future wife?” he said playfully.

“Do me,” she told him. “Right here…in the living room…with the Eagles accepting the Lombardi trophy!”

Adam’s reaction to those intense, seductive words were priceless. Still awash in the thrill of victory, he had the look of a man who could slay a dragon for his woman. It was more than enough to set the tone for how they would celebrate their team’s victory.

“Darla, if you could be any sexier without wearing an Eagles cheerleader costume,” he told her.

“You want me to go find a costume? Or do you want to get naked right now and make love like a champion?”

“Well, I was going to call my folks and share the news first, but…”

His words trailed off as his desires took over. He kissed her again, this time with the passion of a champion. Darla kissed back, eager to match that same championship-caliber energy. For such a powerful moment that had been 13 years in the making, nothing less was acceptable.

Like a couple of pros, they went to work undressing each other. Adam pulled her favorite Eagles sweatshirt up over her head while she undid his jeans. Then, in a show of strength that would’ve impressed any starting offensive lineman, he lifted her up in his arms and laid her down on the couch.

Shortly after she fell atop the soft cushions, he took off his pants and underwear, followed quickly by his shirt. Whether by the thrill of victory or the passion of having proposed to his lover, he already bore a rock-hard erection. He looked so strong and powerful under the glow of an Eagles’ victory. It was enough to make Darla wetter than she’d been since her prom night.

“Off! Get my panties…off,” she urged him.

Her lover gladly obliged her, grabbing them by the side and sliding them off her shapely legs. She even undid her bra in the process, allowing her breasts to pop free. The sight of her naked body with the image of Eagles players kissing the Lombardi Trophy in the background sent Adam into a passionate frenzy that Darla eagerly embraced.

“Darla…my MVP,” Adam said to her.

Joining her on the couch, her new fiancé got on top of her. She eagerly spread her legs, allowing him to position herself over her while still having a nice view of the Eagles celebrating their championship. Holding onto her thighs and focusing that special passion of his solely on her, Adam thrust his hips forward and entered her.

“Ooh Adam!” Darla cried out.

Already, she felt like an MVP. His manly flesh filled her womanly depth, sending a surge of sensation up through her core. Almost immediately, Adam began working his body against hers, making love to her with a fervor unlike anything she’d experience in the 13 years they’d been together.

With each movement, he rocked her world, letting out deep grunts that doubled as sounds of victory. He held onto her thighs, holding them apart, which allowed him to penetrate deep with every thrust. Darla moaned with delight at every sensation, reaching up and caressing her lover’s face. She kept beckoning him with her gaze, urging him to make love to. Like star quarterback in the clutch, he delivered.

“Oh yes! Oohhh yes!” Darla gasped. “Adam…my champion.”

“Darla…my love,” he said.

Her world kept rocking as their naked bodies moved and gyrated together in the ultimate victory dance, evoking a potent combination of pleasure and triumph. At one point, Darla pulled him down closer so they could kiss as they made love. It added extra intimacy along with the euphoria of victory.

It proved to be a perfect combination, victory and love. She and Adam, energized by their team’s first championship, tested the stability of their eight-year-old couch. They made love with the kind of vigor and passion that only champions could muster.

One moment, he had her bent over the edge, thrusting into her from behind so she could see the Commissioner present the Lombardi Trophy to Eagles owner, Jeffrey Lurie. The next, she had him pinned on his back, riding his cock as the players sang the Eagles fight song play while accepting their congratulations. Somewhere along the way, she had an orgasm. In fact, she ended up having several.

That rush of pleasure, alongside the thrill of being engaged and being an Eagles fan on this night, made it extra special. It was a feeling she made sure she shared with her lover, making sure he got more than his share of the pleasure when he achieved his own climax.

“Darla…I’m close,” he told her.

“Then, go on, my love. Fly with me with me…like an Eagle,” Darla said, mirroring his own passionate words.

When it finally happened, she made it a point to embrace him passionately, tying her love with the heat of ecstasy. Those same cheers he let out when the game ended turned to cries of ecstasy. It helped cap off a truly remarkable celebration for a very memorable Super Bowl Sunday, one that Darla wouldn’t soon forget.

Their championship lovemaking complete, Darla settled into her lover’s arms. They remained naked, still indulging in the blissful afterglow of both passion and victory. Other fans might cheer. Others might loudly proclaim that this was the best night in the history of Philadelphia. However, only Darla and her lover could claim to know the true bliss of soaring like eagles.

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Filed under Sexy Short Story, sexy stories