#( emails i shouldnt queue )

[scarletsxnss]

@misaligncd

[pictures-and-love-lost]

er (discussions of death and other sad things below for mobile users)

so im gonna keep being absent here for the next while.

my grandmother’s cousin, who everyone on our side of the family was close to, passed away last night. she was very sick, and had been for a while, and her prognosis was roughly this long, so it shouldnt have been a surprise, but it was, as it usually is. it came on top of other tough shit, so there we fcking go. im gonna be away trying to Drown The Stress In Activity And Tentative Emails About Masters Programmes

i might bulk up my queue idk

[regalgorgon]

I feel like making a Discord for my commissioners, future commissioners, and fans where they can be updated on any irl status, queue, and keep open contact with me without relying solely on email. Think it's a good idea?

When i get this show on the road anyway. I need to break from work first. Which shouldnt be too long. Then i have two comms in back log to finish first.

[yu-gyummy]

.

[scarletsxnss]

tyson loves how SWEET she can be. he's a needy boy—that much is obvious. but she's so understanding and loving... the best mama ever. so he stays CLOSE to her tit, peppering the areola with kisses and licks while they muse over their date night ideas. "oh... there's that new fusion japanese and peruvian place..." tyson suggests. "maybe we can go there for dinner and catch a movie after?"

Elena shudders, feeling his tongue lick and lap at her. Goose bumps rising, fingers stroking across his skin soothingly, her own cheeks flushing as it turns a little more sensual.

"That could be nice, baby. A sweet mother-son date, spend some more time together," Elena offers quietly. "Is there a movie you've been wanting to see? Or a restaurant you'd like to try?"

[viralhottopics]

How dropping acid saved my life

When writer Ayelet Waldman fell into depression she started microdosing with LSD. She tells Rachel Cooke about her extraordinary experiment with acid

Some time ago for reasons that will become apparent I am not allowed to say when, exactly the American writer Ayelet Waldman scored some LSD. She did this, not on a street corner or via the dark web, but middle-class style, through an acquaintance of an acquaintance, for which reason the drug arrived at her home in Berkeley, California, in a stamp-encrusted brown paper package whose sender (an elderly professor, she believed) identified himself only as Lewis Carroll, a fellow resident of her town. Mr Carroll had, however, troubled to write her a brief note. Our lives may be no more than dewdrops on a summer morning, it said. But surely, it is better that we sparkle while we are here. The bottle he enclosed contained 50 drops of vintage quality LSD, of which he advised her to take two at a time. Waldman was delighted. Not to put too fine a point on it, she believed this drug might save her life.

For as long as she can remember, Waldman has been held hostage by her moods. When she is up, she is up; when she is down, she is down. These highs and lows she has managed over the years with the help of therapy and a number of drugs, with which she has had varying degrees of success. At the time of the parcels arrival, though, she had entered a new and much more scary phase.

I was so profoundly depressed, she says. It wasnt the kind of depression where you fall into bed. Ive been through that before, and while its grim, its manageable. This was more of a mixed state, a kind of activated depression, and thats a dangerous place to be. I was doing everything I could to ruin my own life. I was afraid that if I stayed on that track, I would force my husband to leave me, and that I would probably attempt suicide and being a very capable person, I dont think a failed attempt was on the cards.

It was while she was in this state of mind that she stumbled on The Psychedelic Explorers Guide, by the psychologist and writer James Fadiman, who since 2010 has been collecting reports from individuals who have experimented with regular microdosing of LSD and psilocybin, a naturally occurring chemical found in a variety of mushrooms. Fadimans book is certainly not the result of a scientific research project; there has never been an officially sanctioned study of microdosing.

Here comes happiness: Ayelet Waldman at home. Photograph: Barry J Holmes for the Observer

But the people whose accounts it gathered together spoke repeatedly of experiencing, thanks to LSD, increased focus and better mood. They reported rarely losing their tempers, and becoming more fun to be with. None, moreover, had suffered any side effects. To put it simply, they went to bed feeling they had enjoyed that most elusive of things: a really good day. As Waldman read on, she grew envious. How she needed to have one of those! Was this her glimmer of hope? She thought it might be.

Waldman contacted Fadiman, and received a memo entitled To a Potential Self-Study Psychedelic Researcher. The protocol was simple. In order to participate in his international self-study group on the effects of sub-perceptual doses of LSD, she should take a microdose of the drug every third day. The suggested dose was a minuscule 10 micrograms, one 10th or less of what a person would have to take in order to experience an altered state of consciousness (ie to trip).

Meanwhile, she should lead life as normal, pausing only to record her moods, productivity and physical symptoms. Did this sound to be blunt preposterous? It did. Waldman is a middle-aged mother of four who, in addition to writing novels, lectures on the criminal justice system (she is a Harvard-educated former lawyer). As someone who is law-abiding and swotty, nothing in the world irritates her more than hippies, slackers, free spirits. Even people who wont stay on the right hand side of escalators drive her nuts. Ken Kesey she is not. But she was suffering. She had nothing to lose. Why shouldnt she try it, just for a month?

Having found a supplier, then, she did indeed begin taking the drug, an experience she has now recorded in her own book A Really Good Day: How Microdosing Made a Mega Difference in My Mood, My Marriage, and My Life. Its publication is certain to cause controversy. In fact, the madness has already begun. When we speak via Skype, a month or so before it arrives in bookshops, she tells me that only a few days earlier an excitable reporter got in touch to inform her that his editor had given him permission to drop acid with Ayelet Waldman. (Her response to his question about when they might schedule this journalistic endeavour was: Like, never.)

Loved up: Waldman and husband Michael Chabon. Photograph: Albert L Ortega/WireImage

Attitudes to drugs in America are irrespective of those states that have legalised cannabis far from liberal. Trump has appointed to the Department of Justice a war-on-drugs advocate [the Alabama senator, Jeff Sessions] who is so retrograde in his thinking, he believes the US suffers from an under-incarceration problem, she says. Its for this reason that she wont reveal when her experiment ended: there is a three-year statute of limitations on drugs charges. Do I think a white, middle-class lady will be high on his list of targets? No. But in this crazy new world we live in, you cant be too careful.

Its reception will also doubtless be muddied by the fact that she is its author. In America, Waldman is well known as an acclaimed writer in her own right and as the wife of the Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist Michael Chabon, to whom she has been married since 1993. When she writes about herself, moreover and this is something she does a great deal in A Really Good Day people have a tendency to respond with unnerving fury.

Most famously, this was the case in 2005, when the New York Times published her essay Motherlove, in which she declared that she loved her husband more than her children (If a good mother is one who loves her child more than anyone else in the world, I am not a good mother. I am in fact a bad mother.) In the days that followed, ABCs daytime show The View hosted an unaccountably vitriolic debate about Waldman, her neighbours could be heard tearing her to shreds in Starbucks, and her inbox filled with emails from strangers threatening to report her to social services, the better that her children might be taken away.

Waldman is clever and funny and open-hearted. But as she readily admits, even her more sympathetic readers may sometimes have cause to wonder, in the case of A Really Good Day, which aspects of her behaviour her compulsion to tell the world things that others might prefer to keep private among them are simply the result of her personality, and which can be attributed to her illness. It is hard to distinguish between them, she says, almost wonderingly.

Still, she is probably better placed, now, to cope with any onslaught. Waldman is no longer using LSD her experiment really did last for only a month but its effects have, in some ways, been lasting. I miss its anti-depressant quality, and I miss the way it made me focus. It was like Ritalin [a drug commonly prescribed in the US to children with ADHD] without the side effects, which is frankly incredible. But that month got me out of a dark place. Within the first couple of doses, it was like the computer of my brain had been restarted. I was still moody. I had some really good days, but there were also crappy days, and days when it was just the normal shit. Somehow, though, the bad days were not hellish days, and so I had the capacity to work on issues I just couldnt before. Sure, I was hoping for joy. What I got instead was enough distance from the pain I was in to work on the things that were causing it.

Expand your mind: 1960s LSD advocate Dr Timothy Leary, who advised us to turn on, tune in, drop out. Photograph: AP

That work continues. Im still not on an even keel. Im still struggling with my moods. But Im committed to that. Im doing a new kind of therapy that is working quite well, even if not quite so well as it might be if I was still microdosing. If someone sends her a mean tweet in the coming weeks, she is unlikely to respond as venomously as she might once have done, or even at all.

Given its benign effect on her, why didnt she just find herself a new supplier, and continue taking it? There were, she says, two reasons. The first was her complete inability to purchase illegal drugs: towards the end of her book, she describes how, having made contact by text with a dealer, she panics, having convinced herself that Lucy is a police informant. The second was her determination to write a book about her experience: for that to be safe, she had to no longer be using.

If I could have overcome those things, there is no doubt in my mind that I would have carried on. Of course, it might not have kept working; Ive been on medication before that seemed to be working, and then wasnt. But if it was to be made legal, Id be the first in the queue, and I periodically remind myself that, if I get desperate again, I do have the option.

Her book is well-researched and, in the matter of LSD itself, careful and no-nonsense. The drug, a variation on the ergotamine molecule (ergot is the fungus responsible for the disease known in the Middle Ages as St Anthonys Fire) which was first synthesised in Basel in 1938 by Dr Albert Hofmann, has, she argues, an undeservedly bad reputation. The scare stories it trails of young men and women whose LSD hallucinations lead them to jump off high buildings have little basis in reality. Rather, they are largely the result of conservative Americas response to the 1960s counterculture, to Timothy Learys suggestion that people turn on, tune in, drop out. Twenty million people have used it in the US, and millions more around the world, with no ill effects at all.

Its complicated, but when it comes to the drugs possible use in the treatment of mental illness, what you need to know is that LSD stimulates the 5-HT2A serotonin receptor, which in turn leads to the stimulation both of brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF), something a pharmacologist described to her as like Miracle-Gro for the brain It stimulates growth, connections, and activity, and of glutamate, the neurotransmitter most responsible for brain functions, such as cognition, learning and memory. (Hence its supposed new-found popularity in Silicon Valley, though Waldman thinks that, in reality, there are more magazine articles about tech dudes using LSD than there are, well, tech dudes using LSD: If there were some mass secret movement, it would have been a lot easier for to get hold of my drugs.)

She believes that during her experiment her neuroplasticity was enhanced, and that this didnt only enable her to work for hours at a time, to achieve a real sense of flow at her desk, but that it also made her happier and less impulsive. What little research has been done backs her up a study at Imperial College London showed that even a single dose of LSD produced robust psychological effects though scientists still dont fully understand the relationship between what happens in the brain, and the psyche.

Why isnt more research carried out? The simple truth is that LSD still carries with it a lot of leftover political baggage. During the writing of her book, the few researchers sanctioned by the FDA (Food & Drug Administration) who are out there were reluctant to allow Waldman to quote them, fearing that to associate themselves with a personal experiment would tarnish their hard-won credibility.

So far, so good. However, when her book is on more personal territory, as it frequently is, Waldman is vastly less cautious, and for the reader especially, perhaps, the British reader this can be, well, excruciating. I know! she says, when I tell her this. Can you imagine what it would be like for me if I lived in London? Chabon, a feminist with whom she shares the childcare, has the power of veto over everything she writes. But because hes a writer, too, this seems not to be something he often invokes. In A Really Good Day, nothing is out of bounds, from their agonising couples therapy (My husbands eyes filled I collapsed in his arms, crying so hard I soaked his shirt), to their sex life (I know you love me, I said, as we made love), to their periodic use of MDMA, aka ecstasy, as a way of opening up their lines of connection. What we did was talk, she writes, of the first time they tried it, in a hotel room theyd booked specifically for the purpose. For six hours, we talked about our feelings for each other, why we love each other, how we loved each other.

Waldman reveals that her moods can be triggered by everything from her writerly insecurities, to the dog, to the sound of her husband eating nuts (she suffers from misophonia, or selective sound sensitivity syndrome): I handed him a handful of almonds, and walked out of the kitchen I heard a crunch, the smack of lips; I felt a wave of anger. She is also fed up that her husband earns more than her, and that she has to share his writing studio, which has an uncomfortable couch: Though hes welcomed me in, I feel like a girlfriend whos been given a drawer in the bachelor pad bathroom. Poor Michael Chabon. The reader begins to feel he is some kind of saint.

Well, he is somewhat saintly, Waldman says. He makes my friends crazy. He gives great gifts. He has impeccable taste in clothes and jewellery. He is a know-it-all, but then, he does sort of know everything. Hes misanthropic, in that we [the family] are all he has space for; he doesnt have any close friends, which I think he would benefit from. I was about to say that hes far better than I deserve, but thats the pathology speaking, because I am a very good wife for him.

Isnt he ever mean to her? Yeah, sure he is. He encouraged her to embark on LSD experiment because he was desperate, too.

Before we hang up, I have to ask: does she ever worry her extraordinarily intense relationship with Chabon on Twitter she has been known to post pictures of her husband, along with a line informing her 15,800 followers just how much she loves him might be another symptom of her illness? For the first time in our conversation, she is hesitant. The gale of her voice drops to a light breeze.

Yeah, I have thought about this. I have said to him: If I were to get healthy, would I still love you, and would you still love me? There is a way that Ive confused needing with loving. I dont want to sound like a Hallmark card, but love is [supposed to be] unselfish, and in my most internal, whirling dark places, I think I need him so badly because he takes care of me, protects me, makes me feel safe. One of the things that saved our marriage in that [dark] period was when I brutally tried to disentangle those things.

The upshot is that she thinks, now, perhaps its OK to need him. After the LSD, when I was having this intense new therapy, I took a drive one night in northern California, where the countryside is very beautiful. I had this thought: maybe I dont love him after all. It was terrifying, and I was crying. But then the phone rang, and it was him. How did she feel then? His voice filled me like a glass of water.

People have been curious, even excited: an extract from A Really Good Day

A fewdays ago, I began tentatively to tell people about this experiment. To my surprise, I encountered few negative reactions. Every once in a while a listener might arch an eyebrow or smile uncomfortably, as if trying to figure out whether her discomfort meant that she wasnt hip enough, or whether I really was nuts. But those have been in the decided minority. Most people have been curious, even excited.

Those with histories of mood disorders were intrigued to hear that my spirits have lifted, that though I sometimes feel the familiar clutch of anxiety in my chest, I am generally able to use mindfulness techniques to make it dissolve. When I told them that I have not gained weight and that my libido has not withered away, they got really excited. The side effects of SSRIs are so ubiquitous and unpleasant that the idea of a medication protocol with fewer of them is thrilling.

Friends who incline to the spiritual were disappointed when they heard that Ive experienced no connection to the divine, but reassured when I mention the pleasure Ive taken in the natural world, the tree outside my window, the smell of the jasmine beside the city sidewalks. Risk takers and hedonists were disappointed that I was unable to provide details of hallucinations. No kaleidoscopic colours, they asked wistfully, no feeling that the floor was shifting beneath your feet? I live in California. The last thing I want to feel is the floor shifting beneath my feet. They urged me to try a real dose. It would change my life, they said, as though my problem is that my life has been too devoid of weirdness. Besides, my life is changing.

Tonight, however, was a different story. These two writer friends are about 20 years older than my husband and me, which puts them firmly in the boomer generation. They were in their 20s in the 1960s. Theyve travelled the world, rejected a life of secure conformity in favour of the risks and rewards of art. What better people to confide in? I thought.

Well, I said, Ive been writing, but not working on a novel. Ive been writing about microdosing with LSD.

What does that mean, the woman of the pair asked? Are you writing some kind of nonfiction article on people who use LSD?

I took a breath and then explained.

Her face froze. If she had been wearing pearls, she would have clutched them. She looked horrified, even disgusted, as if Id told her that Id taken up murdering baby seals. Her husbands reaction was only slightly less disturbing. He smiled uncomfortably and changed the subject. I immediately agreed, yes, the antipasto was delicious, and, no, I didnt want any more.

Their reaction launched a series of cascading anxieties. Will I be condemned for doing this? Will people reject me as a nutcase, a crank, a deluded acid freak? Will I lose whatever credibility I have in the world? Will parents not let their children come over to our house any more, under the misapprehension that I keep drugs in my home?

As soon as dinner was over, I tried the technique for dissipating anxiety that my cognitive behavioural therapist recommends. I took a few deep breaths, exhaling for half again as long as I inhaled. My chest and throat unclenched. The anxiety ebbed. I was calm again. I was OK.

Also, I had some perspective. This couple were young in the 1960s, when Timothy Leary was spreading the gospel of psychedelic recklessness. For all I know, they had complicated histories with the drug that influenced how they responded to me. In all likelihood, their discomfort had far more to do with them than with me.

A Really Good Day: How Microdosing Made a Mega Difference in My Mood, My Marriage, and My Life by Ayelet Waldman is published by Corsair at 13.99. To order a copy, go to bookshop.theguardian.com

Read more: http://bit.ly/2i5NhJg

from How dropping acid saved my life

[scarletsxnss]

ozzie slowly pulls the blanket from off of them, letting any of the gallery staff see how their bodies were still TANGLED in each other. her hand strokes him perfectly, knowing exactly how to make him moan. one of his hands gently moves up towards her neck—not choking her just yet, but applying some pressure. "i'm all yours today, kitten." ozzie promises. he'd planned for today to be a relaxing one. the last few days of running around for the gallery was likely taking a toll on him and his pet—it's hard to go from FUCKING every half hour to withholding until they were in front of an audience.

"keep stroking... make master cum." more pressure is applied to her neck, only enough to spawn tears from the lack of oxygen. even on the most relaxing days, ozzie liked USING her body to its limits. it was the way they expressed their love. "where do you want master's cum, kitten?"

the sound of ozzie's voice was what roused her the next morning. she had slept soundly in his arms on the floor of the gallery. alessia had, had the feeling that sir had warned them it might happen. the day had been an intense one. it had been hours of being denied to hours of intense pleasure.

she whimpered as she felt him giving her kisses. her eyes fluttered open and a pout appeared," sir," she whispered," we do?" she had no idea what time it was. that was something that was the norm given she no longer had much of a schedule. though she knew that she lived by his schedule. she nodded slowly, wondering if she was even capable of moving. her body shifted slowly as she turned onto her side," thank you." her fingers reached to wrap around him, beginning to pump up and down," do we have any other plans today? or do i get you all too myself?" she had no idea if he had any plans or if he had any calls that needed to be made.

[scarletsxnss]

her words make his heart FLUTTER with love. she's everything he wants. when he's inside her, he feels SAFE and content. for so long it's felt like grief would drown both of them in sorrow, but now they've found happiness in each other. and his moans are the proof that the shame has washed away and all that was left was PLEASURE. "all mine." the man claims, voice low and raspy as he focuses on ramming his dick into her small cunt. "my pretty wife..." her father adds, as if to CONFIRM everything being said. 

vincent feels her tight walls around his cock. her hands on his body feel AMAZING. it's almost enough to make him burst—but he slows his pace, letting her feel every inch of his COCK as it slides in and out of her. his lips press against her jaw, then neck—ANYWHERE he can kiss. gentle nibbling on her skin mixed with raunchy licks show how obsessed the man is. he's been needing her for a while now.

bee's diary was an amazing source of PORNOGRAPHY for him. vincent loved reading through each entry and every NAUGHTY thought she had. her fantasies were so similar to his, minus a few more wildly kinky stuff. but vincent loved how INNOCENT she still was. he only wishes it could've been him to deflower her. 

"this pussy feels so good, bumblebee..." vincent gasps, moving his hips in a steady rhythm—not wanting to BUST too quickly. "you're so pretty when you take daddy's dick..."

even though, deep down, she knows that their relationship has forever changed, hearing him say it as well as confirm that they're not going back to their old dynamic has her exhaling a breath she didn't know she was holding. "good. that's so good." his kisses were soft, gentle, not unlike the ones he had given her her entire life yet they were never as dirty as they were today. not that she minded. bee was now determined to get these types of kisses from him every day, no matter what. she needed them.

as they lay side by side, she thought she was in for more kisses until he started talking about rules and suddenly she was as serious as she was about her schoolwork. "of course!" she was so quick to answer because she didn't want there to be a single doubt in his mind. she would always be his bumblebee, even more now that they had this new and special bond. and following his rules was also a guarantee as she nodded, agreeing to what he was saying.

bianca is very much aware of how he's stroking himself to hardness right next to her as he lays down their new way of life. while she wants to be a good daughter and listen, she can't help but look. that cock that was just in her mouth was hard again, seemingly pointed right at her. she couldn't help but whimper at the sight. but then a word catches her attention. "wife?" her smile grows. "do you mean it, daddy?" it was more than enough for her to be his bumblebee but the fact that he wanted to devote himself to her like that — and her in return — made her heart melt all over again. "i'll take care of all of it, daddy," she agrees with a nod as she throws her leg over his hip, angling herself for him. "and most importantly, i'll keep taking care of you."

and as if on cue, his cock slides into her cunt and she lets out a low moan. everything is so different from the night before. there's so much passion, so much love. "i love you too," she gasps as her hands wrap around his shoulders, pulling him close. "so much." she kisses him as she feels his cock pull back before he's ramming back into her body and she whines. "mark me as yours, daddy. all of me belongs to you."

[scarletsxnss]

she was still his princess. even when he fingers her like a SLUT, he still thinks of her as his baby girl. in so many fucked up ways, touching her is kind of like when he taught her to ride a bike. or FUCKING her is like those cute daddy daughter dates they used to go on. now things were a little different. at first he was worried that she's resent him for his hedonistic wants. but the more they fell for each other, the more he saw that this LOVE was good for them.

"cum on daddy's fingers, baby." vincent moans as he feels her soft hand move up and down. he's THROBBING and ready to burst. but he hold back, focusing on his movements. his hand practically SQUELCHES as he pounds into her messy cunt. her sex coats his palm and knuckles as it flows from her pussy, to his hand, onto the seat below her. "CUM." he repeats, kissing her so that she knows the taste of his lips when she orgasms. 

alicia always felt like she was in over her head. there had been so much change ever since her mother left. everything was different now and she knew that he needed her. he had insisted on her sending him naughty texts or photos of her in comprising positions. she had resisted in one way or another but it seemed that she no longer could bring herself to deny what he wanted. deep down she knew it was because it was what she wanted.

she found herself getting completely lost in the kiss. a squeal escaped from her the moment that his fingers finally slid inside of her. her eyes nearly rolled back as she moaned helplessly. her own hand continued to move up and down though the movement was slow. she nodded without even thinking twice about it," i won't-promise, love you." she groaned but found herself trying to move her hand a bit faster, her thumb running along the head of him," daddy i really-really need to cum," she choked out," please, i'm-i'm so fucking desperate for you."

[scarletsxnss]

she cleans her plate so GRACEFULLY. it's unquestionable, how much these two long for each other every moment of the day. if the public knew even half of what was going on, then their gazes and need to be together ALWAYS would make more sense than the world was ready for.  "i knew you would NEVER." he leans forward and catches her lips in a loving kiss, pulling her closer and moaning. "your turn." arthur finally tells her. "lay down."

stella had never questioned the way she felt about arthur, much like she never questioned the way that he felt for her. sure, it wasn't ideal, even in the slightest bit - but that didn't matter to her, not when she felt so strongly for him. just as soon as he'd started talking, stella knew that the video had shut off, while they had made some close encounters before, he'd usually stopped the recording once his voice had sounded. taking him farther down her throat, stella let out a moan, feeling him against the back of her throat before he unloaded. swallowing down everything that he gave, stella waited to make sure he was finished before pulling back, cleaning up his cock. a smile fell over her features as a hand came up, her thumb running along her bottom lip with a smile. ❝ do you honestly think that i would ever waste any part of that? ❞ 

[scarletsxnss]

he swears he can live like this forever. the moans that escape his lips are as naughty as they are loving. it's this meld between love and lust that always kept him attached to her. so desperate that, if he were not the eldest male among his siblings, his parents would disown him for using such an extreme amount of family funds on mavis. despite what they thought, mavis was family to him. if this didn't prove her loyalty to him, what would?

she was coted in cum, stroking him like she needed more—his dick throbbing and threatening to shower her in more seed. bruce doesn't feel his body hold back anymore. every drop of precum streams down her hands. cum races to paint her skin, his balls happily getting taken in by her lips. "don't you dare stop." half begging and half demanding.

the male was reaching some kind of lucid state. a place between calm and ecstatic. this was what the buddhists were searching for—her hand and mouth were nirvana itself.

mavis knew bruce thought she was prettiest after a facial, and honestly she didn’t mind it. mavis continued to stroke bruce’s cock while she sucked on bruce’s balls, giving them the love and attention she thought they deserved. “thank you daddy.” she responded while she licked the underside of bruce’s cock, she swirled her tongue around the tip before she licked her way back down to her boyfriend’s balls.

[scarletsxnss]

it felt good to get out of the car and FUCK her like he promised he would everyday. running away meant he could LOVE her without fear of judgement—though a part of him was crazy like that. daniel loved people knowing he fucked his stepsister. it was a wild kink, but he was happy to know she didn't mind. 

his body rested against hers, mainly using the car to hold them both up. he knows she's probably JELLY at this point. the night air is quiet. only their breath could really be heard. 

he takes a moment before pulling off of her and turning her to face him. "yeah?" her brother asks, quickly lifting one of her legs up to give him ACCESS to her again. his cock slides back into her, his eyes on hers now. he can FEEL the way her body wants to give in. if it weren't for him holding her against the car, he knew she would fold over. "tell me how bad you want to be a MOM." 

breeding her was just another one of his kinks. he knew he was a PERVERT—but he loved that she didn't seem to mind.

before daniel she had always thought that she'd never find someone who could keep up with her. she had felt like it was a unique brand of torture when they were under the same roof. at least until she realized that he wanted the same exact thing that she did. the first time she had stumbled upon him moaning her name while jerking off, she couldn't resist. she had dropped to her knees and the rest was history. not a single day passed without them sneaking off to be together.

he had shown her things about herself that she hadn't realized. including how desperate she was to be used by him. she felt like his toy as she realized that she had actually squirted. apparently her body had been far too wound up given the hours in the car. her face was bright red as she whimpered and moaned," can't help it," she choked out," feels so fucking good." she knew that they could spend hours doing what they were and it still wouldn't be enough for her.

willow was putty in his hold as he continued to pump his hips back and forth. the squelch of her own juices was so loud compared to the silence around them. she cried out as she realized his cum was painting her insides. her stomach was doing backflips at the thought and the feeling of being full of him. she groaned as he gave her one final shove before remaining buried to the hilt," dan-daniel." sometimes it frightened her, how well he knew her. she loved the idea of carrying his child," i do-i really want it," she choked out," please, want you to keep cumming inside me, want to be so full of you for the rest of the trip."

[scarletsxnss]

vincent isn't afraid to show them off. but these moments when all three get to be alone are WONDERFUL in their own right. most of the time he prefers having them to himself—their playful banter and sexy bodies keep him young. "mmm..." vincent grins when willa immediately starts touching him. the girls always seemed to know what their daddy needed. "you know i LOVE when you two are fighting for my attention. and i especially love when you're on your knees."

his hand gently rushes through willa's hair, the water rinsing their bodies in a ROMANTIC sort of way. this was their equivelant of kissing in the rain. "good girl, baby... come suck daddy's cock." he encourages, before turning to kiss tanner again, giving her some much needed attention. "that's it... grind against daddy." vincent whispers to tanner, hand running down her back so she can get CLOSER. 

willa loved the dynamic between the three of them. the small levels of competition between her and tanner for vincent's attention, for his love. he always gave more than enough, encouraging their silly games for his favor. not that willa ever felt like she had the real chance of losing it from him - it was still fun to push the limits with the other. she smiles widely as he steps in, already hard and ready for them. her hand slips down to grip him, her softy sudsy palm slowly drawing up and down his shaft as he kisses her, then tanner. today she was determined to be first. "me daddy." she coos softly, looking up at him through long lashes as she continues her motions, tits pressed tightly against him.

tanner can't help but chuckle at willa's eagerness. the two girls always vying for the attention, aggressive in their wants. her own hands fall against vincent's chest, pressing herself to him, lips trailing on his neck. "how do you think we'd look fighting over your cock on our knees?" she whispers in his ear, one hand peeling off his body to land on willa's shoulder, already pushing her down as tanner grinds into him.

[scarletsxnss]

arthur hums when her body finally gives into him. his hand runs along her back, soothing her through this orgasm. none of her friends would guess that they were doing this. he loves owning her, in this way. only he knew how to pull her away from reality and cause her to dive into hedonism with him. both of their bodies drowning in lust with their orgasms as the only way to satiate the desire. "okay, baby." his voice tender as he pulls her by her hair—only enough to have her face him. a deep and sensual kiss is stolen, in front of her friends. none of them were strangers to ryan and arthur's pda. tonight was more of the same, many thought. "say goodbye to your friends." he tells her, motioning with his head as his body shifts in the seat. his body moves in such a way that he pushes deeper into her, encouraging her to hurry. 

there it is, the confirmation she needs, almost as if in cue, a trigger phase for her to do it without anything else, she lets her body go, cunt clenching tightly around him, face pressing into his neck, others would assume she's just being stinking cute, obsessed with her boyfriend; she is, she couldn't deny it, but the dick inside her is the current thing she finds her body obsessing over. knows how to keep her noises quiet, no stranger to hand pressed against her mouth, told to shut up in case anyone else hears. orgasm that runs through her, sends shockwaves, hardest one she's had yet, and he hadn't even touched her, hadn't even fucked her, and yet she was crumbling on top of him. when she finally comes too, body twitching, cock still lodged deep inside her stretched out core, stretched to him, she whimpers softly, "daddy, can we go?" wouldn't usually ditch her friends, but she's dripping, making a mess of herself on his lap, "need you, need your load."

[scarletsxnss]

her squirming is ADORABLE. but he bets she'd look even cutter with her panties DRENCHED and her on her knees. nasty images surface in the male's mind—those of his fantasies that he has all too often about her. his fingers keep PINCHING and toying with her cute nipples, his eyes cast over her observing her reactions. "use your words, baby. aren't you daddy's smart girl? tell daddy how you're feeling."

Darcy can't help but squirm as he continues to touch her. Her nipples are hard against his touch and she shifts on her spot on the bed, feeling her panties dampen and she chews down on her bottom lip. "Uh huh," she breathes out needly, squirming. "Daddy..I.."

[scarletsxnss]

daniel felt so in tune with her body. the weight of his naughty secret was lifting above them as they enjoyed being blanketed in love and lust. "you could never disappoint me." he promises, moaning as he feels her perfect body under his fingers. it's closeness that FUELS the gentle circles his pads trace around her clit. his other hand pulls her body tight against him, so she can feel his skin around her as he gives her pleasure. "does it feel good, sis? show me how you like it."

she had to admit that hearing him talking about how he would watch her when she hadn't known had turned her on. it shouldn't have been as much of a turn on as it was to mila, but she couldn't help herself - just the thought of it was something that could have the girl thinking of one million different fantasies. ❝ and it doesn't make you feel dirty now? ❞ she questioned, the feeling of his hands washing over her body causing her legs to part, giving him better access to her body. ❝ i could never hate you, you're the most important person in my life. i'd do anything just to make you happy. ❞ which she'd meant in a more literal sense now. a soft moan fell from the girls lips as his hand was between her legs, finding herself leaning back against him more. ❝ would never want to disappoint you. ❞