Michael Stream - Author
I'm a very conventional man, living in New York with my wife and children. I have an interesting hobby: writing hot, steamy sex stories for a female audience.
I'm fascinated by the dynamics that occur between loving couples over time. Look at any couple that's been married for ten years or so, and one thing is clear. The man may have all the outward signs of power, but it's really the woman that sets the terms of the relationship. It's the woman who controls their intimate life, and for all couples the intimacies in their bedroom set the tone for all that passes betwen them.
I think the reason for this is that woman are better suited to modern life. Men are strong in outward appearance, they are agressive and naturally impulsive. Woman are more intelligent, emotiotionally aware, and most of all -- more patient. These are qualities that nature favored in the past, in a chaotic, dangerous world full of predators. Men needed to be strong and brave, and woman needed protection. Women needed safety to raise their children, and so they developed the emotional skills to bind a man to them over many years. Outwardly, that is -- because women still have a natural hunger for more agressive, "alpha" males, men that excite them.
Modern life is different. Civilization is all about the longer term, and in this world the patient maturity of woman gives them a clear advantage in today's world. Women are the majority of college students today, and the legal profession, the gateway to power in business and politics is becoming increasingly female. The hungry, restless nature of men makes them ill-suited for the modern world, and that is why men are more prone to addictions and other self-destructive behavior. That's why the average woman lives more than eight years longer than the average man. That is why over the course of a lifetime together, the patience of a woman will mold her partner to her needs, in the same way as steadily running water wears away the hard rock of a canyon.
I beleive woman are superior, in general, to men. And yes, I am submissive by nature. Not in the sense of a weak, pain-seeking masochist. But rather in the sense of a Knight, proud in bearing, strong and capable in the world, but all my skills tendered in the higher service of my wife, my Queen. She loves romance, she loves soft music, candles and incense, and long evenings of tenderness. Since that's what she wants, that's what she gets. It isn't that she orders me around - she doesn't need to, because after fifteen years together, i've learned what she wants. I've learned to be attentive to her moods, I watch her for signs of displeasure. When she isn't happy, I know I won't be hapy, because I can't live without closeness to her.
I began writing these stories for my wife. She loves romance novels, and while she's as conventional as I am in appearance and manner, she has an inner wildness that my stories appeal to. So I began writing for her.
She knows everything about me. She knows all my secret wishes, all the dirtly little dreams I have. But I know almost nothing of what thrills her. Like most women, she's learned to keep distant even in the most intimate moments, because she knows that her remoteness, her mystery is the source of her power over me.
But I know she loves my stories, and I think you will too.
Here's an excerpt from my new story, "Nothing Less Than Everything," now available at Extasy Books
"All night long it was like that. He'd had hundreds, maybe thousands of women, yet he gave you the special feeling that you were the best. You were special. You don't know how many times the two of you made love, because it wasn't a series of separate events. No, it was a long evening of bliss, a long, magical evening beneath him while he drove himself into you like a demon until he spent himself. You'd feel him spasm, and he'd lay there, softening but still inside you, gulping air. You caressed him, you kissed him. You told him what a wonderful, what a special man he was. Until at the end of the evening it was you that learned the secrets to his heart. It was you that knew where he needed to be touched, and how soft the caress of your fingers should be, because you could make that thing of his start to grow inside you all over again. And it was you that was saying things that would bring him back alive for you again. . ."
Click on the link below for the full story: