A few of us were at a friends house, and we noticed a large collection of cheesy romance novels on my friend's shelf. After much bullshitting, we stumbled upon a hilarious game. Focus: Excerpts from a romance novel written for men. "And then she made him a sandwich, and they lived happily after." "And she fucked him. It was good. The end." Ok, so my friends are not good at this. You can do better.
They came home together and made passionate love. He made sure to whisper to the cab driver to keep circling the block for 5 minutes so he could beat a hasty retreat when finished.
(Notice this is fiction and fantasy) He knew he had finally found the 'one'. Finally, proof that the perfect woman does exist. She demanded he leave SportsCenter on so he could catch up on the latest scores while she blew him. After all, it was the middle of March Madness. As he looked to his right, he noticed the cooler with beer she had left for his enjoyment. "Hey sweetie, are these for me?" he said. Without missing a beat, she replied "mmmhmm" (as she was still giving him head) and cracked open his can of Bud Light single handed. After slurping down the ice cold beer, catching up on the game high lights, and successfully blowing his load, the doorbell rang. It was the pizza his future wife had ordered and subsequently paid for. Life was good.
Her oral precision on the meat rod was perfectly in sync with the cheering roars, as the Redskins secured their fate as Super Bowl CIII champions. Climax resulted in the very choking Skins fans had become used to over the last two decades; not today. Today you just pointed at that bitches tear stained face and laughed. A good laugh indeed.
As I removed her underpants to reveal her poorly-quaffed beaver, the pungent odor of untouched nether-regions overpowered our tent like a fart in a space-suit. My boner-filled sweatpants stood at full attention - like a pair of sweatpants with a really big boner in them. As I pulled them down to reveal my manhood in all its glory, she discarded the crossbow and bowie knife and took me in her mouth while I strummed my air guitar wildly to the soft melody of Thunderstruck. Moments later, the manager of Dick's Sporting Goods stormed our love nest with the head of security and ejected us from the mall.
Actually, there's a whole genre of men's romance novels. They're called science fiction novels. Most of them are based on an almost autistic premise of a guy accumulating power, status, and ultimately, a girl, but with a mechanical attention to detail and no character development. The perfect example for this type of book is anything by S.M. Stirling. Focus: Ultimate man's romance novel -- Alpha Male Copy Pasta. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just as made up as any romance novel.
As Sidney Crosby scored the game-winning overtime goal, she turned to him and whispered into his ear: "You won the bet, honey. Which two of my friends do you want your threesome with?"
Her heaving bosom swelled with anticipation as the sweat ran down her cleavage, briefly pooling in her naval before she wicked it away. Gustav, looking at her through the morning sun streaming in the window, had never experienced the kind of longing, the level of anticipation he felt as she sauntered towards him, her hips wiggling seductively as she walked. All his energy was focused on one thing and one thing only. His animal instincts had taken over. Goddamn that was gonna be some good fucking bacon.
"Then, by some stroke of luck, some evolutionary mutative happenstance so magnificent he could hardly comprehend what was going on, her nipples began to dispense beer, and he was at once astonished and at peace as he laid and suckled."
Wife: "My mother can't come to dinner on Saturday, she has implosive diarrhea." Husband: "Fair enough."
"And after the fight had ended, she conceded by admitting fault and telling me I was right all along." "I'm sorry, honey, I wasn't thinking logically and my reasoning was all based on emotion and not fact. Would it be okay if I gave you a blowjob now, as an act of sincerity?" "Upon completion, the doorbell rang with the pizza delivery girl, who instead of monetary payment, decided a threesome would be payment enough." The end. Red dot away, ladies.
"Ohh yeah, you're amazing! Your hands are so strong... yet fast, and precise." She said, her voice oozing with lust. "That was nothing baby, get ready for this..." "Oh... OHHH... they're coming so fast!!" she screamed. She had never met a man who could beat Through the Fire and Flames on Expert, and it was making her wet. "FUCK ME SILLY YOU GUITAR HERO-PLAYING SEX GOD!!!"
Someone on this board inspired me... Spoiler I am walking out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, still wet from the shower. Thin rivulets of water are snaking from my soaked mane into the cream towel, glistening against my tan. My hemp lotion is in my hand, I am headed towards the couch to rub it in while watching television. You are sprawled on the couch watching a movie, wearing an old tshirt and jeans. I think to myself that you look delicious, as always, and sit on the overstuffed chair adjacent to you. I absently unwrap myself and begin moisturizing my legs in long strokes, while watching the episode of Family Guy you have playing. I am aware that you are watching me and begin slowly working my way up to my hips, my belly, my breasts and arms, all the while ignoring your gaze. I stand so that I may reach my back and finish with my ass, rubbing the lotion in circular strokes, acting still as if you aren’t even there. I finally meet your eyes, give you a playful haughty smile and start strutting towards the bedroom to get dressed. You grab at my hand and I pull away, laughing. I almost make it to the room when you are upon me, your mouth on mine. You kiss me hard, bruising my lips, one hand on my throat, the other with a fistful of hair. I resist, playing hard to get, which only encourages you. You grab my arm and turn me so that my back is to you, keeping a handful of my mane for control. I can feel your cock hard at my back, I am already soaked for you. You push me toward the dining room, nipping at my shoulders, tasting my fresh skin. You are leaving marks, which likely pleases you, proof of your ownership. You keep pushing me towards the dining room table, start bending me over it, rubbing my back to prep me for entry. I still resist, as if I don’t want your hard cock inside of me, I’m pushing away from the table. You use your purchase on my hair to turn me to you and release it to grab my hips. You shove me onto the table, lifting my ass and thrusting into me hard. My legs are over your shoulders, your hand covering my mouth, muffling my screams. You are fucking me so hard, hitting my cervix so hard with every thrust, when you decide you want to punish me further. You pull out, your cock is soaked with my desire for you. You slowly press your cock against my tight little asshole. I moan under your hand. You push into my ass, slowly yet firmly. As you stretch me, you start fucking my asshole hard and fast. You take your hand off of my mouth and put it on my throat, so you can hear my cries for you. I squeeze as you thrust, making it a challenge for you not to cum. Suddenly, I am calling your name as I reach orgasm and you release, flooding me with your hot juice. It is leaking out of me as you finally release me….
And before you knew it, she was whimpering her safety word of "woodchipper". Little did she know, that just made him all the more uncontrollable.
With the lights dimmed and the scented candles lit he opened FireFox and immediately turned on the private browsing mode, his hands trembling with anticipation. His wireless connection was perfect and the speed was excellent. Redtube.com opened immediately, and there were no pop-ups or other windows opened. He started streaming "dirty whores fisting their own asses" and there was no buffering time. He was never interrupted while he pleasuring himself, and he finished quickly without incident.
Andrea Dworkin, Catherine McKinnon, and Ann Bartow nodded at each other silently, downed the Koolaid from their white paper cups, and one by one, slumped over lifeless. ...And the world was free to have sex in peace. The End.
There are a few flaws with this short story: 1) It was written by a woman. 2) How do we know she's the perfect woman? You didn't give a physical description. 3) You mentioned marriage. You are not qualified to write mens romance novels.