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. . ."