#Audi Windshield

[vicautocollisionrepair]

Discover expert solutions for Audi windshield damage with our comprehensive repair and replacement guide. This essential resource covers everything from assessing cracks and chips to choosing the right repair method or replacement parts. Benefit from step-by-step instructions, professional tips, and practical advice to ensure your Audi's windshield remains in top condition, ensuring safety and clarity on the road.

[lay-z]

☃️ Day 11 ‒ Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!

A continuation to 🎅🏼 Day 3 – Altruism, which means it's set in the same universe! 

Synopsis: On your way home for Christmas leave, you and Kyle get stuck in a heavy snowstorm. As the temperature keeps dropping, you suggest skin on skin contact to stay warm together. 

Pairing: Kyle Gaz Garrick x fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: NSFW, 18+ | military!Reader; fluff; humour; domesticity; established relationship; dirty talk; unprotected sex; accidental creampie 

Word count: 2.5k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

“Yes, sir, will do. Thank you.” 

You’re only half-listening with one ear as Kyle speaks to the Captain on the phone, informing him of your… predicament and coming up with a rescue plan while you glance out of the windshield, watching the rapidly thickening blanket of snow starting to cover it up. It certainly won’t be long until Kyle’s sleek black Audi car will be hidden from view at the side of the road, the only thing visible being its bright hazard warning lights flashing rhythmically. 

Kyle sighs deeply as he puts his phone back in its holder next to the steering wheel before he speaks.  

“We’re stuck… for the next three hours at least,” he informs you and when you glance over at him, he looks apologetic, almost pitiful, like a kicked street puppy, “I’m sorry, baby,” He reaches over and rests his large, warm palm on your thigh, squeezing it gently, “I should’ve listened to you.” 

Despite your initial annoyance at his stubbornness to take the risk and drive home for Christmas in a snowstorm, – a heavily announced one at that, – you cannot find it in you to be mad at your boyfriend, and your anger melts with ease like ice cones in the sun. 

“It’s alright,” you reply, cupping your own hand over his, rubbing your soft thumb over his dry knuckles, “I know you just wanted us to be home for the holidays and make the most of our leave.” 

Kyle’s lips purse as he exhales sharply through his nostrils, “It’s our first Christmas as a couple,” he mutters, “I just wanted to make it special for you.” 

You can tell that he is angry and blaming himself for this, so you give his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“It is special, though, innit?” You quip, making a vague gesture at the car cabin that you find yourself stuck in with him. For the next three hours. At least. 

Kyle snorts, unamused, “Yeah, right.” He pulls his hand back, crosses his arms over his buff chest and leans back into the soft leather of the car seat with an annoyed huff. Not angry at you, but himself; hating the feeling of not being able to live up to his own expectations and standards he’s produced in his head on how to be a good boyfriend. How to be enough for you. 

You can feel it, the way he’s starting to overthink, and you swiftly intervene. 

“Aw, come on, Ky-Ky. We’ve been through so much worse.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and shift in the passenger seat to lean over the middle console, placing a chaste kiss to his clean-shaven cheek before you pull back and pick up your packed rucksack from the leg room. You unzip it swiftly once on your lap and briefly rummage through it as you hum approvingly. 

“Good thing I packed some snacks and drinks for the drive,” you remark, holding up one of your favourite protein bars before dropping it into the chaos inside again. You flash a genuine smile at your boyfriend, “I think we’ll survive those couple of hours.” 

“Yeah,” Kyle agrees, kissing his teeth in thought as he glances out of his window, “Price said he’ll send someone out for us once it’s cleared up. Said we should keep the heater on as long as we can and just risk the battery dying.” 

But the wind is howling outside, the snowstorm getting meaner rather than ebbing down. Luckily, you two barely made it an hour away from base before you got caught up in the storm and forced to pull over. 

“Oh, I’m positive we’re gonna make it, baby. I trust in our combined survival skills,” you mumble casually as you keep going through your stuff, “Remember when we nearly died of hypothermia in Al Mazrah?” You ask, perking up with a snort, “I mean... that would’ve been so embarrassing. Dying in the fucking desert like that.” 

“Nah,” Kyle objects softly and the corner of his mouth lifts as he thinks back of that recon mission with you, “Drowning in the desert would be more embarrassing.”  

You laugh at that, “Good point.” Kyle’s brows furrow as he glances over at you, watching as you keep going through your rucksack like some manic squirrel looking for nuts, she thought she had hidden in the foliage. 

“What are you even looking for in there?”  

“Condoms.” You answer is so swift and dry that Kyle cannot quite tell if you’re messing with him or not. “But it seems that I forgot to pack them.” And then you click your tongue with a small shrug, “Guess you gotta go raw and pull out this time.” 

His jaw ticks and he squirms in his seat, his biceps flexes under his hoodie as he keeps his arms crossed and spreads his legs wider apart, something curious and warm already stirring in his lower gut, because you must only utter something vaguely dirty or sexual, and Kyle’s loins start buzzing eagerly. That’s how tightly you have him wrapped around your finger. 

“What? Why?” He asks, laughing breathlessly. 

"Never had car sex before," you mutter as you put your rucksack back between your feet before you start climbing through the space between the front seats to get into the back, already kicking off your boots as you go. 

Kyle grumbles but follows you without hesitation, no more questions asked, as he struggles to wretch his bigger body between the seats, "Yeah, I better fuckin' hope ya haven't, princess."  

You can't help yourself but laugh at his sudden display of jealousy, snickering softly as you scoot over and make space for him on the backseat. Lacking your feminine grace, he still manages to join you with some huffs and grunts. 

It’s getting darker in the cabin as more snow starts piling up and covering the windows, the blowing winds now muffled in your forced shelter.  

"Of course not, honey," you say, rubbing his chest affectionately as he pants slightly, looking dishevelled with his hoodie rucked up and his bomber jacket askew. His head turns to follow your movements as the warmth of your touch seeps through his clothes. 

Then, he gets that look in his eyes. The one that disarms you, no matter the situation. It has you melting on the inside and always urges you to grab his face and kiss him senseless. Devotion. Love. Sincerity. All mirrored in his warm brown eyes, like freshly harvested honey dripping from a spoon. Sweet and precious, and only reserved for you to taste. 

"I'm gonna keep you warm, baby," he says, his voice husky as he scoots closer, raising an arm to wrap around your shoulders, his other hand cupping your cheek as he leans in to kiss you audibly; plump lips smacking against yours two, three, four times until you giggle. 

"You know I will, right? Always." He mutters against your lips, his thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek with a tenderness that leaves your chest aching and your pussy pulsating. 

Warm as in safe.  

When you became official on New Year's, almost exactly a year ago, Gaz became Kyle. Off duty, he is Kyle Garrick. Your sweet, doting, and yes, sometimes jealous, and overly protective boyfriend. The one who holds an umbrella over your head when it rains and adjusts the chair for you in a restaurant. On duty, the lines blur sometimes, and both of you must remind each other in turns that you're still teammates, that the job is a priority and that no, you cannot catch a grenade for each other if push comes to shove. Not if it compromises the mission and puts the rest of your team in danger. You’re both learning, though. 

“Are you sure you wanna do it in here? Someone might catch us,” Kyle murmurs responsibly, but starts peppering kisses along your jawline, down your neck.  

“Yes,“ you sigh softly, tilting your head to the side as he pulls the collar of your hoodie down, exposing more skin to his mouth, “Anyone who’s daft enough to take a walk right now and is able to peek through these windows, deserves a bloody show.” 

Kyle is getting harder in his sweatpants the more you speak, the more he kisses you and you let him. He sucks your skin into his mouth and bites down lightly, growling playfully. The sound of your half-whine/half-giggle has his cock twitching, blood rushing south steadily. 

He releases your skin with a wet pop, grazes his teeth over the darkening love bite, “Always driving me bloody fucking crazy.” 

Your right hand reaches down between his strong legs, and you grasp him skilfully over his sweatpants, making him shudder as you give his rigid manhood a firm squeeze.  

The windows have fogged up from the inside. The heater is now redundant as your bodies keep each other warm, skin on skin, no barrier in between. It’s getting hot, slick, and sticky. 

Your lips are kiss-swollen, parted as breathy, hiccupped moans are torn from your throat while Kyle has worked you open with his long fingers, his mouth latched onto your left nipple; suckling, nibbling, flicking his tongue over your hardened bud. 

After stripping down and draping a spare blanket, one you’d brought along as a matter of prudence, Kyle manhandled you onto your back on the, thankfully, spacious backseat. Now he’s keeping his hands braced next to your shoulders, his hips grinding languidly, dragging his thick cock through your wet, puffy folds with each roll.  

“You’re so mean, Kyle,” you whine eventually, head tipping back with your eyes closed as you feel yourself getting impatient, “I want you inside.” 

You like calling Kyle mean, because he is the least mean or selfish lover you’ve ever had. It’s the needy, breathy, and pathetic tone you say it in that has him crumble and fold at once. 

He bites your nipple gently, making you shudder and gasp before he pulls back, gazing up at you with dark, half-lidded eyes, “Want?” He repeats mockingly, “Nah, baby, you know how to ask nicely. I taught you better than that.” 

He reaches down between your bodies, grabs his thick shaft and nudges your silky folds apart with the weeping tip of his cock. Your thighs part wider and your lift your right leg to brace your foot on the driver's seat for purchase, keeping yourself open and presented nicely to him. 

“Such a good girl for me, baby. Look at that pretty pussy,” Kyle mutters heatedly, teasing your swollen clit with his cockhead, “Fuckin’ gorgeous.” 

“F-Fuck... Fuck me, please, sir.” You’re practically trembling beneath him, bucking your hips to try and make him slip his tip in, and Kyle’s chest rumbles appreciatively as you call him ‘sir’ again. It happens rarely, you’re the same rank on duty, after all, but whenever it slips your lips when you’re alone, it boosts his ego and makes him preen internally.  

His cock twitches, oozing more precum, and the tightness in his balls almost becomes unbearable.  

“Fuck – ah – alright, y-yeah.” 

Kyle shifts on top of you and you push your hips up for him, chest heaving with deep, slow breaths as you look at him through hooded eyes, and you exhale a breath of relief that ends in a breathy moan when his tip finally nudges past your dripping hole, fluttering around him eagerly as he pushes in slowly, making sure your wetness coats his shaft nicely with each push and pull until he can bottom out, heavy balls resting against your crack as his hips are flush with yours. 

“Feels good?” Kyle grunts out and you nod slowly, “Very good... oh god, so fucking good.” 

He pulls out up to his tip and slowly sinks back in again, stretching your quivering walls repeatedly. That familiar blissful warmth starts pooling in your lower stomach, licking at your spine and spreading through your limbs, up to your chest, flushing your cheeks as he starts thrusting more shallowly. Your thighs are sticky with your slick. The sound of your bodies connecting fills the car and rocks it gently when Kyle picks up the pace. 

You wrap one arm around his shoulder loosely, your free hand reaching over to dig into the back of the passenger seat while you keep your foot braced against the driver’s seat, so you’re not pushed off the backseat.  

Kyle leans in to capture your lips in a deep, sloppy kiss; tongue licking into your mouth, flicking and sucking on yours obscenely as his thrusts become more powerful; pubic bone nudging against your pulsating clit with each grind.  

“...’m close, baby,” Kyle utters, his muscles bunch and flex as his handsome face contorts in pleasure, and his hot breath mingles with yours, saliva keeping your lips connected. 

The hand wrapped around his shoulder sneaks down between your legs and you start rubbing your clit in tune with his thrusts, tendons straining in your neck as your head tilts back again, back arching. Your velvety walls squeeze around his cock, squeezing him mercilessly as you rub yourself to completion. 

“Kyle– ngh, Kyle–” Your eyes squeeze shut as the tension keeps coiling, his large hand grabs a handful of your ass cheek, nails digging into your skin and groping you tightly as he snaps his hips harsher, knowing you need his full length massaging your sopping cunt to make you cum. 

The pitch in your moans as you cum, the way you cry out his name in pleasure and your inner walls convulsing and rippling around his cock, is enough to have Kyle lose all restraint with you. He tries to pull out, he really does, but his body goes weak on him, knees giving out beneath him on the backseat as his vision goes white and his head buries into your shoulder while his throbbing cock spills inside you with several long pumps.  

“Fuck... fuck... ‘m sorry, didn’t–didn’t mean to,” he groans against your skin, but his hips keep rutting into you lazily, relishing in each hitch of your breath and shudder of your body beneath him as his cock begins to soften inside you slowly. “I’m so sorry,” 

Releasing your grip on the passenger seat and pulling your hand back from between your legs, you wrap both arms around his neck again, hugging him closer with a soft, contented smile.

“...’s alright, honey,” you mumble hoarsely, exhaling a soft sigh against his neck as you nuzzle him, “Just consider it a very risky Christmas present.” 

[inkykeiji]

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, dangerous driving, mentions of rough sex and dacryphilia

words: 879

daydreaming about being fyodor’s pretty, precious, perfect little princess, sitting in the passenger seat of his slick, sleek, souped up audi as he whips the car around an empty shopping mall parking lot at three in the morning, blasting russian drift phonk so loud the whole car is vibrating with the bass. and you’re so cute, you’re so coltish, giggling daintily as he veers around a fat concrete pillar, tires spinning, those sweet bubbles of laughter egging him on, begging him to go faster and faster and faster, to press fate just a little further, to risk your lives just a little more. 

the asphalt is cracked from the harsh russian cold, crinkled and jagged like strikes of black lightning, all sharp edges and serpentine veins, but they do nothing to hinder the tires as they whirl and whoosh. 

winter winds howl as they shove back against the car, but fyodor only chuckles in response—something deep, dark, deviously decadent as it drips, slow and sticky, from his quirked lips, the wisp of a smile on his face. the engine purrs as he expertly switches gears; shift, click, whir, the thin, taut muscles in his forearm flexing, and the car cuts through the gusts with practiced ease. the snow is beginning to fall heavier now, cloaking you in a gentle swirl of ivory, fat flakes melting on impact as they pelt the windshield. they leave behind irregular droplets of water, blurring the stark white lights and the cool blue neons of the city. 

the hues dribble into one another as the car sweeps across the lot, an abstract watercolour of the cityscape smeared across the glass. a sharp yelp hitches in your throat as the car glides, almost gracefully, across the expanse of concrete, stopping just an inch or so short of the monstrous snowbank, fyodor yanking the steering wheel to the left with a hard jerk, both of your bodies thrown to the right as the car swerves, tail end just narrowly missing the mountain. the squeal of the tires complements your own, a sweet little scream that shatters to giggles as the car straightens out again, fyodor glancing over at you through thick inky lashes, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips. 

plumes of smoke envelope the audi, a dense and hazy mist that mingles with the soft, spotty flutters of snowflakes, accompanied by the putrid smell of burnt rubber. you can taste it on your tongue, feel it sticking in your throat and intoxicating your lungs, but it only amplifies the exhilaration rushing through your veins, blood fizzing in its wake. 

the car scutters to a stop, and then his hands are on you, colder than ice as they creep beneath your dress. they tug you into his lap, hem pooling around his wrists as his fingers flex on your hips, nails sinking into plush flesh, keeping you steady, keeping you still. 

he tastes sharp, like heady nicotine and fresh pine, a flavour that always leaves you gasping, that kicks the breath from your lungs and into his mouth, a sound he trades for a snicker of his own as he devours it greedily.

and you can feel him, the hot and hard outline of his throbbing cock grinding against your inner thigh, another torrent of gushing heat flooding the apex of your legs, dainty lace of your panties soaked and sticky, clinging to the contours of your cunt.

you’re begging him to fuck you, desperate and delicious, pathetic and precious, but you know he won’t—not here, not now, not the way he wants to—know he loves to hear you sob out those pretty pleads onto his tongue, muscle curling around them as he sucks on them, savours them, melts them into nothing and swallows them down.  

and you’ll never get used to this, you swear to god—never get used to the way that same exhilaration shimmers in his features, glowing in violet eyes and gleaming in ivory teeth, when the car finally stops. 

you’ll never get used to the way he rolls his hips up into your core after he’s had his fun, allowing himself a moment to be messy, needy, clingy in those interim hours where night and morning bleed into one another, melding into something hazy and indistinct, undefinable, and freeing him from the self-imposed shackles of perfection, precision, pristine. 

you’ll never get used to the way he murmurs against your neck, your jaw, your mouth, words nothing more than a smooth purr in his chest that rivals the smooth hum of his cherished engine, too low for you to comprehend, catching fragments of russian as soft lips singe secret promises into your skin. 

but you don’t need to hear his vows to know what they mean. 

because they’re promises he keeps, oaths he renews, every night. 

they’re promises he’ll keep as the winter sun rises and dispels the veil of night, pale and weak as it tints the grey sky with a washed out golden hue. promises he splatters across your body in smatters of broken blood vessels, tongue and teeth as his tools. promises he whispers to you again, stitched together with different languages while you’re absolutely sobbing beneath him, as his hips stutter and his cock pumps and he fills you with thick cum for the umpteenth time that night.

[starscourgc]

bloodborne characters and what cars they would drive

laurence: 2020 mercedes c-class, his dad bought it for him as a graduation gift but never drives it . He just bums off everyone else for rides.

gehrman: 1997 toyota camry. it’s got 400k miles on it, the brakes need to be replaced, windows don’t roll down, but it’s gonna outlive gehrman and everyone he knows. has been set on fire before and still turned on.

maria: 2012 audi a5 coupe. got it off Ye Ol Marketplace for a banging deal. all the windows have 2% tint on them and she can’t drive at night as a result. keeps it spotless and won’t let anyone eat or drink inside.

ludwig: 2023 toyota prius. smthn smthn big man small car joke here. it’s fuel efficient and he cares about that type of stuff, the holy moonlight sword gets buckled in the passenger seat.

alfred: 2003 ford ranger, THE work truck. He has to hotwire the engine, get out and push it 20 feet forward, say a prayer to logarius, and then hope it turns over. radio doesn’t work unless you beat on the dashboard a few times.

gascoigne: 2005 dodge grand caravan. has enough space for himself, viola, his daughters, and henryk. the back windshield is covered in “my daughter is an honor student at yharnam elementary” stickers and a stick family.

djura: lifted ford f150. can hear it turn on from 10 miles away, and you Will go blind cause djura installed those blinding LED headlights. doesn’t know how to turn off said headlights.

eileen: 1989 jeep cherokee 4x4. Laments constantly about how cars aren’t made how they used to despite her getting 5 miles to the gallon on a good day.

edgar: 2006 volkswagen beetle. i dont have an explanation it just feels right.

brador: modded ford escape. loves it more than himself, and it REEKS of cigarettes bc he smokes with the windows up.

micolash: crashed 5 cars until he finally got his license revoked, walks everywhere or gets a lift from edgar.

[enriquemzn262]

My current Hot Wheels collection

The Audi Quattros, now 7 in total, I just keep finding them!

The “I accidentally bought it twice”, Ford Sierra and Dimachinni Veloce.

The Nascar collection, these are very hard to find, that’s why I bought the white one even though it came with a damaged windshield.

The pickups, the Nissan is a Matchbox, but don’t think too hard about it.

The “damn that looks cool!” Collection, I was mostly going for an offroad/rally look, but the weird VW and the dragster were too cool to pass.

And the old guard, what remains of my original Hot Wheels collection from 21 years ago, the oldest being the one in the middle, one of my very first cars gifted to me by mom around 2002.

[laurfilijames]

Lust and Lace

Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Evan Lace x female reader

Words: 4,284

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Stripping. Masturbation. Unprotected intercourse. Oral sex (F receiving). Exhibitionism. Cursing.

Summary: After waking up to find Evan gone, you go to his house later as requested to join him for an afternoon swim. Things continue on in his empty house, making you the star of the show, letting Evan realize again what's really important in life.

A/N: I love Evan and want him happy and in love so here. It continues.

(Also don't have sex in pools but this is fic so it's fine)

Prompts used for @deanobingo were Evan Lace, stripping, exhibitionism/semi-public sex and smoking.

Here's the song that helped inspire this chapter for you to listen to while reading! Enjoy!

Thank you to @blairsanne for photoshopping the heading photo 🥰

---

The late morning sun had you blinking into awareness, your sore, sex-exhausted limbs stretching out comfortably on your bed. With a contented hum you turned over onto your back, searching for the warm body that had sprawled over yours all night between sessions, only to find you were alone.

You knew you didn't dream it; the passion shared between you and Evan was too real to be fabricated, the evidence left on your body all you needed to remember every kiss, caress and moan that took place.

The recollection of your night made your desire strike again, and despite being left completely sated, you found your hands roaming all the places of you that Evan had worshiped only hours earlier.

You eventually rose from the comforts of your bed and the wistful memories that had a permanent smile plastered on your face, walking on tired, achy legs to your kitchen where you discovered a note left by the man who left your heart feeling full and your limbs like lead.

Meet me at mine this arvo

x

Evan

His handwriting was quick, but not too messy, the years of scribbling out paperwork evident in his penmanship; the haste to get business done in a hurry not outshining his desire for order.

You had never been to Evan's house, but knew exactly where it was, and looking out your kitchen window above your sink at the clear blue sky and bright, blazing sun, you thought of what to wear to such a meeting.

A flowy, cross-over dress that accentuated your cleavage became the winner after hauling nearly every piece of clothing out of your closet, and after having agonized over what time to arrive from not being given a specific time, you drove through his neighbourhood, your watch reading three o'clock and the sun still blazing to match as it shined through your windshield like a magnifying glass and created a warm sheen of sweat on your skin.

You pulled in the ramped drive, parking your old, shit-box car on his pristine, concrete driveway, praying that it didn't leak oil all over it; the contrast between his freshly-waxed Audi and his sleek, modern house to your rusty, outmoded ride making you sweat more than the summer heat was.

You smoothed your hands over the front of your dress as you made your way up to the door, already able to see how empty the house was through the floor to ceiling windows that made up most of the building.

Should I knock? Simply walk in? you wondered, unsure how comfortable you should be making yourself in the home Evan had shared with Joanne up until mere days ago.

Luckily, a note written in the same writing as the one left to you earlier was stuck in the door, indicating for you to let yourself in and head straight through to the back.

You did as instructed, carefully walking through the stark white, vacant spaces that you assumed had been filled with expensive art and decor until you were met with a large sliding door greeting you to the patio where the pool lay just beyond.

Evan was in the pool, looking wet and glorious as he smoothed his hair back and flashed you that convincing smile, the sight making desire burst in your belly.

"Ah, there she is," he breathed, wiping his hand down his face to rid it of excess water.

"You left."

Your tone was both accusatory and questioning, changing his expression to more serious as he squinted up at you.

“I had business to attend to and now it's sorted.”

You stared at each other for a moment as if trying to get a read on the other, and before you had the chance to explain to Evan how much you'd missed his presence, he spoke again.

"Did you dress up for me?"

His head tilted to the side while his eyes roamed your form, making you feel as exposed as his blank walls.

"I- no, I just tossed this on," you lied, knowing you looked ridiculous wearing a frock like this, and being used to a far more effortless style, you rubbed your arm nervously as you placed it across your body and glanced around the lavish backyard; fully aware you looked out of place in more ways than one and that Joanne wore designer gear similar to this as a bloody housecoat.

"Take it off."

"What?"

"Take it off, and join me," he repeated, nodding his head behind him at the large pool.

"I don't have my togs-"

"You don't need them," he grinned, leaning his arms against the ledge of the pool to look up at you. "I'd rather you naked than in that," he nodded at your dress, "it's not you."

You swallowed thickly, feeling even more foolish than you already did, the heat that already burdened your entire body creeping up quickly into your cheeks.

"What I mean is," Evan continued, picking up on your discomfort, "that shit doesn't matter. I don't want you pretending you're someone you're not because that's what you think I like���trying to be like her."

You met his stare, seeing the genuinity in his eyes that matched both the water and the sky, and felt your shoulders drop from being so close to your ears.

"Just be you, and be naked."

He smiled, the stretch of his lips accentuating the lines around his eyes and the indents in his cheeks, making you giggle and nod in agreement.

"And take your time," he added, beginning to wade in the water again, "I need something beautiful to look at now everything else is gone."

Fueling the excitement of stripping down for him, you relished in the feel of his eyes on you - already burning with such keen attentiveness - and peeling your hair off your neck and around to one shoulder, you turned so your back was to him, slowly tugging at the strings tied on your waist that held your dress together.

The silky material slipped off your shoulders, allowing the sun to beam against your bare skin, and you flashed a sultry look behind you at the man whose moustache twitched with approval.

You were careful to let the dress fall slowly down your body, revealing you piece by piece along with a white, lace set, hearing Evan's appeased hum and the soft lapping of water against his golden body. The dress dropped once it passed your bum, pooling at your feet in a heap of patterned polyester, and immediately you felt more like yourself.

You side-stepped out of it, your hands crawling up your torso lovingly, smoothing around to your front where you squeezed your breasts held in their lacey cages. Tipping your head back so the sun graced your face, you moaned at your own touch increasing your growing desire, smiling when you listened to the sound of Evan moving toward the edge, the flick of his lighter becoming a familiar noise.

Pivoting around, you met his smile that was interrupted by a fresh cigarette, his eyes glowing as much as the burning end was.

You slipped a finger under the strap of your bra, sliding it down your arm, and repeating the same on the other, watching as the lustful look on Evan's face grew. But, doing as you were told and not letting him get what he wanted so easily, you pulled it back up, earning a set of raised eyebrows. You giggled and tucked your lower lip in your teeth, moving your hand down until it trailed beneath the band of your thong, your fingertips teasing between your wet folds.

Evan groaned as he exhaled a long plume of smoke, his face turning serious as you continued to rub yourself. Before getting carried away, you retreated your hand, placing your coated fingers in your mouth to suck clean, the act causing Evan to put his cigarette between his lips to hold as he used his hands to free himself of his speedo.

A satisfied sense of excitement made a shiver run down your warm spine seeing him grip his hard cock and begin stroking it, motivating you to continue your striptease.

Reaching around your back for the clasp of your bra, you flicked it open, letting it fall unceremoniously down your arms, exposing your peaked nipples to the blazing heat. You peeled it the rest of the way down, flinging the garment somewhere to the side where it landed on the concrete, your eyes fixed on your audience.

"Come in here and get those tits wet," Evan growled, his smoke still hanging from his lips as he jerked himself languidly.

"Patience," you purred, carding your hands over your chest where you pinched your nipples, sending pressure down to your core.

Evan took a wet hand and tugged the cigarette from his mouth, blowing out the smoke with a forceful breath, his chest heaving as he became even more worked up in watching your show.

You hooked your thumbs in the side of your panties, inching them down slowly, following the action with the sway of your hips.

"You look so fucking good," he hissed, his eyes following the path of your thong, his cheeks flinching as he clenched his teeth hard.

A string of your slick pulled away from your sopping lips, sticking to the white cotton, the sun making it glimmer brightly. It fell to the ground, leaving you in nothing but your stilettos, your complete exposure to the elements liberating.

Evan extinguished his half-finished cigarette on the edge of the pool in preparation of you joining him, exhaling the smoke left lingering in his mouth as he stared you down intensely.

You spun around again, continuing to roam your body with your curious hands, and slowly hinged forward at your waist to reach for the strap wrapped around one of your ankles. Your legs remained locked at the knee, providing Evan with an erotic view of your wet folds and puckered hole, and purposefully worked as slowly as you could to unfasten your heels.

Feeling dizzy with arousal, you finally stood upright, kicking your shoes off across the patio, the concrete hot on the balls of your feet as you shifted your weight between them.

You sauntered over to the pool, your eyes heavy with lust, catching distorted glimpses of his readied cock in the ripples of the water.

With agonizingly slow steps, you made your descent into the water on the smooth, tiled steps, the anticipation of having him touch you starting to become too much.

You gasped as the cool water lapped at your heated skin, making your nipples harden even more and goosebumps break out over your whole body. Needing to make your entrance more tolerable, you dove beneath the water, emerging right in front of Evan with an exaggerated leap, the motion making your wet breasts bounce and jiggle enticingly.

Using your hands to smooth back your hair, you opened your eyes to see him smirking devilishly at you, his satisfaction in your work clear on his handsome face.

The waves created by your movements tickled your breasts, and you whined at the sensation, hoping Evan would finally touch you and put you out of your misery.

Much to your approval, he crashed against you, the hair on his upper lip scratching yours as he kissed you with the most intense demand, his hands coming up to hold either side of your face to bring you flush against his body.

His cock nestled between your thighs, and unable to resist the mind-numbing friction, you ground against him until you both were moaning and gripping at each other desperately.

The buoyancy of the water allowed you to easily wrap your legs around his middle, still gliding along the length of his cock, each pass of your hips threatening for him to slip inside. He growled into your mouth, gripping your bum with callous hands, and speared into you to stretch out your aching walls.

You rode him as fast as you could with the resistance of the water making it slower than you wanted, feeling frantic for your release while Evan walked a few steps to the edge of the pool, pressing your back against the ledge so he was able to meet your rolling hips with forceful thrusts.

Your nails tore through his wet hair, the addition of his spirited pumps increasing your frenzy and taking you deeper into the pit of blinding ecstasy, the vocalization of his pleasure dragging you in completely.

Your mouth fell away from his, your screams of sheer rapture calling freely into the summer day, and you contracted around his girth as he continued to drag in and out of you while the coarse hairs surrounding his cock worked against your clit.

Evan gave a broken chuckle, amused at your disregard to the possibility of neighbours hearing, but humbled as your climax brought forth his own. He slapped against you erratically, causing water to splash crudely around your bodies and out of the pool onto the surrounding concrete, the view of your boobs bouncing in his face and the sensation of your tight, wet walls strangling him sending him into a tailspin.

You continued to ride on him as he sputtered and filled you, extending your orgasm until he was left panting and you were a shuddering mess hanging onto him tightly.

Evan kissed you, smiling against your lips, pushing his feet off the bottom of the pool so he floated away with you still wrapped around him.

"You're amazing, Evan," you praised, feeling euphoric in your after-glow and weightless as you were cradled by both him and the refreshing water.

"Hmm, I know," he chuckled, pressing quick kisses to your lips as he waded through the water.

You stayed in the pool until your skin turned pruney and the sun hung low on the horizon, your shivering prompting Evan to fetch towels and bring you inside where it felt drastically warmer despite it being a balmy summer night.

With the sun now fully set and darkness brining out the stars in the sky, you sat perched on his desk, him in his chair, the only two pieces of furniture that remained in his obscenely big house that felt more so without anything to fill it. The white walls seemed even brighter in their lacking as the lights of his office enhanced them, the black night sky contrasting heavily through the large windows that spanned the entire outer wall.

"Are you warm now?" he asked, placing a cigarette between his lips to light it, his brows knitting together as he did so.

"Yeah, I am," you smiled, feeling perfectly comfortable in just your towel.

He placed his lighter back in his drawer and pushed it closed, leaning back in his chair as he took a long drag from his smoke, staring at you curiously as he did.

"I could have this place filled with all that expensive tat again and you'd still be the most beautiful, priceless thing here."

"Is that so?" you grinned, happy that with some true love and genuine affection, a man who had always lived trying to fill that void could feel as complete as he did now.

"Yeah," he confirmed, leaning forward to get closer to your body, his hands landing on your knees to help them drift apart.

The hand that didn't hold his cigarette trailed up your thigh lightly, making you sigh as a fresh wave of desire for him came over you.

You tried to distract yourself, looking around at the vacant spaces, wondering what his intentions were.

"What are you going to do with this place?"

Evan shrugged as he took a drag, letting his blue eyes float around the room as he thought.

"I don't know," he said simply. "I might sell it, start fresh somewhere different."

You hummed, paying more attention now to all the wonderful features of him, lost in your adoration and lust for him once more.

"Would you mind if I stayed at yours again tonight?" he asked, his tone serious and his eyes telling of his insecurities.

"Will you stay all night?" you returned, watching his face grow brighter as a smile crept onto his face.

"Yes."

"Then, yes, I will happily share my bed with you," you purred, swinging your legs playfully in the air.

"Mmm, I did have a lot of fun in your bed," he said lightly, scooching his chair closer to you as he took a final inhale on his cigarette. "But," he continued, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth while putting it out in the ashtray beside your leg, "I'd like to have a little more fun with you here first."

You leaned back on your hands, your legs spreading wider as a sly grin danced on your kiss-bruised lips, happy to indulge him in one last hurrah in his desolate mansion.

Evan stood from his chair and leaned over you, kissing your lips slowly, his towel falling to the carpet. He plucked the fold of your towel that held it together above your breasts with his fingers, his eyes dropping to take in your naked form as it became exposed to him again.

"You're the only piece of art I need," he spoke softly, his lips hovering over yours.

You whined when he dove into your neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh until you couldn't take it anymore, shifting your hips to get closer to the edge of the desk in hopes of contacting his body with your core.

"Stay there," he ordered, taking his seat again, his erect cock bouncing as he did.

You squirmed slightly, waiting for him to make his move, relieved when he didn't torture you by taking his time to touch you.

His lips started at your knee, peppering kisses that tickled on account of his moustache, trailing eagerly up the inside of your thigh until he reached the apex of your parted legs.

The smell of your arousal and the freshness of the pool made saliva gather on his tongue, and rather than swallowing down his appreciation of such a scent, he opened his mouth and deposited it onto your glistening sex. His lips hovered over you, barely touching while his fingers gripped your legs so hard he created indents in your flesh, the careful control he executed with his mouth differing from the feral actions of his hands.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, waiting for him to make contact with you, the thrill of not knowing if or when he would making your body tingle.

His lips brushed over the seam where your leg met with your torso, making you jump and sigh out, humming as you tried your best not to laugh with how it tickled.

Evan chuckled, smiling as he swept his moustache back and forth on the spot, seeing this loving, playful side of him coming through more and more making your heart swell.

"Evan?" you murmured, trying to get his attention momentarily as he continued to gently kiss your inner thigh. "I love you."

Pausing, he glanced up at you, his eyes dancing with yours, a mix of emotions flooding the clear blue of them.

"I love you too."

His voice was slightly hoarse, laced with feeling, and not forgetting his earlier motives, he dove back down between your legs and ate at you passionately.

You gasped and pulled at his hair, his waves soft and full in your fingers, your hips lifting slightly off the wood desk to increase the pressure being put on your core.

Headlights from a passing car reminded you of your blatant exposure to the world, spiking your arousal tenfold, the knowledge of being seen by any neighbour or passer by adding to the frenzy of lust that bombarded you.

Evan licked at you expertly, alternating his broad strokes with his lips pulling and sucking your clit to grow your cries, your hips rolling faster against his face.

You glanced between your heaving breasts to watch him work you with ardent skill, his brows cinched together with effort, the dark hair on his upper lip saturated with your slick and his saliva.

Turning your head to face the windows, you saw yourself in the reflection; perched atop what remained of his personal empire, your naked body made into a meal for the powerful man nestled between your legs, the erotic feeling enhanced when yet another car drove down the street.

"Evan," you whined, nearing your high. He hummed in response, holding onto your legs tighter to keep you from backing away from his intensity. "Touch yourself."

He growled into you at your request, taking hold of his cock to tug it jerkily, his moans from self-inflicted pleasure sending you into bliss.

Curses interrupted by his name poured from your mouth, your hand tearing through his hair desperately for purchase as your other braced behind you on the desk, allowing you to arch your back and lift your hips up to prolong your climax.

Evan stood, running the hand that wasn't wrapped around his length over his mouth, a look of crazed hunger dressing his face.

"Over there," he barked, nodding his head at the windows, extending his hand in that direction to guide you, his other still pumping himself roughly.

You blinked in disbelief, licking your lips as you removed yourself from your seat and stood on shaky legs, the numbing aftershocks of your orgasm spreading fresh want through you when you noticed how close he was to coming undone; his head engorged and leaking, his sack tight to his body.

With a mix of nerves and dauntlessness coursing through you, you sauntered over to the window, glancing behind you to see Evan following closely, still stroking himself, his sly grin and dark eyes making your stomach flip.

You held your breath, stopping at the pristinely clean glass, closing your eyes when Evan came up behind you and began kissing your neck, your hands coming up to splay out on the cold surface in front of you.

His breathing was ragged, tipping so close to the edge, making you wonder if he simply would empty his load onto your bum rather than inside you.

No longer needing to wonder, you felt him squat behind you, lining himself up between your cheeks, his smooth, warm head knocking against your tender folds before pushing through with almost painful resistance.

Gasping, your eyes flashed open, locking with his in the reflection of the window as he started to forcefully thrust in and out of you with raw, brutal power. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, moving you to his pace effortlessly, dragging you along his cock and effectively into another surrender to his assault.

Evan came violently, bucking into you erratically as he filled you with his hot, thick spend, his growls of pleasure echoing through the hollow room.

Watching him through hazy eyes in the reflection of the window, you saw him screw his face up in an attempt to refocus and continue moving inside you, the determination to please you again clear on his face.

You slid one of your hands down the glass to land between your legs, taking some of his seed and spreading it up to your clit where you rubbed yourself briskly and rocked on his cock while it remained hard.

"That's it, gorgeous," Evan groaned, his voice strained as he struggled to hang on, feeling you contract around his sensitive head as he began to slip from you.

You wailed loudly, convulsing through what felt like an infinite moment of rapture, Evan's fingers moving to replace his cock to see your climax through. Your eyes squeezed closed, abandoning the sight of yourself jolting and quivering uncontrollably, letting out a final, drawn-out moan as you soaked both your hand and Evan's with a rush of wetness.

A deranged laugh rumbled from him as he stepped away from you, stumbling slightly, running his hand through his hair and down over his face, letting the euphoria of your session settle in over him.

Eventually, you moved away from the window after catching your breath, no longer paying any mind in being seen by strangers naked and disheveled from sex, following Evan back over to his desk where he collapsed in his chair and chuckled again as he admired you.

You sat sideways on his lap, letting him fold his arms around you while you laid your head on his shoulder, breathing in his sweaty, smoky scent that overpowered his faded cologne.

Evan sighed contentedly, pressing a kiss on your forehead, relaxing comfortably in his chair as he enjoyed the simplicity of being with you.

"I'm very lucky," he said after letting minutes of silence stand between you.

"How so?"

You lightly trailed your fingers across his chest, catching them in his dampened curls, curious for his response as you thought how purely unlucky he had been recently.

When he didn't answer immediately, you sat up a little straighter in order to look at him better, catching the twinkle in his vibrant eyes as an emotional smile grew on his face.

"I've never loved a woman at the same time she loved me back.”

He chuckled and breathed out, looking down and blinking to avoid your penetrating stare, spinning the chair side to side slowly before glancing up at you again.

You cupped his cheek, matching his smile with your own before you crashed against his lips, feeling an overwhelming sense of richness that could never be replaced by the things only money could by.

---

(Bonus photo of him in his office smoking because he's just so sexy 😩😩😩)

Taglist:

Everything: @guardianofrivendell @midearthwritings @cassiabaggins @lilith15000 @trishthedishofreis @linasofia @unbeatablecurlgirl @the-poldarkian @lathalea @enchantzz @blairsanne @legolaslovely @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @sketch-and-write-lover @jotink78 @medusas-hairband @feeweeee@missihart23 @fortheloveofdurin @i-am-still-bb @roobear68 @ichoosechoasandbeingqueer @legolasbadass @spngingerbread21

[phoebified]

So it's clear. My unyielding stances on cars:

Toyota: older ones are frequently christlike, newer ones should have a brick placed gently on the gas and sent into a canyon. you should mourn it but move on. the older ones are easy to maintain, rugged, reliable, and iconic. the newer toyotas have a nice styling but after a certain year their desperation to make their cars luxurious has had a backwards effect and has made them complete dogshit and has made their more affordable cars actually more desirable than their fancy cars. the 2024 camry is complete dogshit and i've never disliked a car more in my life, except for this one piece of shit jeep suv i don't even recall the name of, which i flat out refused to drive. they didn't have to do all that bullshit to the 4runner

BMW: for asshole shitheads. this is neither an accolade nor a condemnation. i admire the resolution of the BMW fanatic to adhere to a brand that HATES when you work on your own car and wants you to never be able to touch your oil or transmission fluid or any fluid at all. like i don't even think they want you putting new windshield wiper blades on your own shit tbh

chevy: i hate you. mostly out of spite, but for select few out of seething jealousy. it is MOSTLY out of spite, though. silverado owners should be crucified.

ford: you should hate yourself for being stupid. mustangs are cute and fun but honestly i only ever see fucking idiots drive them. admiration for their aftermarket support though. the f150 is such a piece of shit it's unfuckingbelievable

dodge: 9.8/10 i hope your head explodes but for that .2/10 i feel a deepseated and unending longing. if you drive a stock charger or challenger you're committing a grave and reprehensible sin.

subaru: it's fine it's literally fine i just don't really give a shit either way

honda: you probably drive like an idiot but it's a fine car. you know what you're getting, they're easy to work on. you might not be getting like, the car of your dreams, but it's a fine beast

nissan: oh my god stop speeding and weaving in traffic you're going to fucking die!!! when you do can i have your car please [THIS EXCLUDES ROUGE DRIVERS. YOU NEED TO HAND IN YOUR LICENSE]

gmc: either a reliable and beautiful truck for grandpa or a house on wheels for someone who seriously needs to get their license and children and maybe house taken away

scion: there's something irreparably wrong with you.

jeep: fun. hateable. understandable as to why people drive them. you Are a freak though i'm sorry. they have so many fucking problems with them like they serious are like fucking rescue dogs with 12 cancers even fresh off the lot. their compact suvs are perhaps of the devil

saturn: [Looks around scared in an empty room] Did you guys hear that

mercury: i really cannot believe people still drive these but it's always a surprise and a treat to see one. beyond that i have no opinion

oldsmobile: yeah that's -- do -- okay. sure. it's a gm car and it's cute in its styling but i think this car is really for a specific kind of person...

pontiac: owners are weirdly stoic. have had fun with pontiac drivers. they're whatever cars it's sad they don't make em no more but i don't blame them neither

volvo: I miss you baby but you are truly a grade of shitbox unlike any other. when people do love them enough to keep them up it's a beautiful thing it's like when a hound loves a farmer

volkswagon: man. whatever. the jetta and the golf attract very mysterious and enjoyable people in the US but i feel neutral if not slightly apprehensive towards the car

mitsubishi: my stupid delight. i keep trying to hate mitsubishi but i really can't

mazda: ...i'm... i'm not sure.

buick: please get off the road

cadillac: I really think something BAD should happen to you. I'm not sure if I even say that playfully

mercedes: weirdly cute cars for fucking idiots and the new ones just seem like such pieces of shit

audi: i have yet to see an audi driver that hasn't thought they were jesus christ or charli xcx despite audis being midtier fauxluxury vehicles

lincoln: cute. weirdly lasting, but i'm not sure that i mean in how their engines are built up. uncertain how i feel about the lincoln demographic. not a fan of their new shit. it's fine but you need to be rich to own one because them parts ain't cheap

suzuki: Falls to my knees. I miss you baby. Fuck...

lexus: the car is neither comfortable nor sleek enough, which makes me not think it's very luxurious. basically lived in one of these for a long time. Hated it. it lasted i guess but when it died jesus christ

hyundai: MAN THEY'RE ALWAYS DOING SOME FUCK ASS SHIT WITH THEIR FUCKING CARS it's always like Here's my car that looks like a Bubble. Or a Dragonfly. And you can't see out of it

bentley: the amount of times i've considered rear ending one of these

kia: cute, useless cars

fiat: cars for smug people

mini: cars for slightly less smug people

lucid: YOU BOUGHT A FUCKING LUCID??? I can't lie that's funny. cute styling i think it seems like a halfway decent ev but i've never studied one hard i just went to a mall exhibition on them so i'm talking out of my ass here

ferrari: not dignifying this with a response

acura: does anyone remember the acura

aston martin: similarly to the bently, ironically enough, the amount of times i've considered rear ending one...

alfa romeo: oh fuck off you rich asshole

bugatti, hummer, land rover, tesla, lamborghini, porsche, ram, RIVIAN, and ESPECIALLY MCLAREN: i hate you. with a burning passion, actually.

chrysler and infiniti: this is like the kind of car they animate in 3d disney movies

jag: you think you're so cool don't you

maserati: unfortunately you are actually cool

maybach: You hurt me so

isuzu: I LOVE YOU BABYYYYY YOU'RE SO CUUUUUTE mostly for their commercial trucks and this is mostly honorable mention but their cars have cute styling. i don't know if the personal vehicles are any good sadly

daihatsu: i really know nothing of the engines but the styling of these cars is really something special

takeoka: i have a hard time giving an opinion on these because any time i look at one i start freaking the fuck out

hino: i have 0 opinion on this.

SEAT: como crecí con estos automóviles, mi opinión es muy subjetiva pero i think they're cute classics. modern versions are hit or miss but isn't that the nature of nostalgia

mitsuoka: biased based on kanji i won't lie but also biased based on that stupid fucking styling i wish i could pop the hood on one of these fucking freaks

[astramthetaprime]

State of the Funyun, 9/22/24

So Things Have Happened.

Two weeks ago I got called in to a meeting with my supervisor. The previous two times this has happened I've been threatened with being fired, so I was thinking "here we go" on the walk of doom. But strangely, no! I was offered to transfer to another job in the company that they thought might suit me better. Yeah, I know, "might suit me better" is code for "this is your last chance you failure". I'm not completely oblivious. Even I can see the writing on the wall when it's printed in 108pt neon orange.

I started learning the new job last week and I'm already doing real work. Like, actual real work. Correctly.

I'm being trained by the person who is getting traded to my old department for me and she's a former schoolteacher. I don't hide the autism, I told her when it was relevant. So I get treated like a third grader with getting interrupted to check on me a dozen times a day, which okay, I understand but the frustration at being interrupted when I'm concentrating is something I'm trying my best to control. She's a really nice person and she doesn't deserve that. Also I just don't like feeling like a putz. But I'm working again. After four months of feeling like I was going to be fired at any moment for not being given work to do, it's a vast improvement. No one likes to feel useless and even fewer people like to be made to feel scapegoated for other people's choices. But it is what it is, and I'm glad to be out of it.

Best of all about this new job, once I'm trained I'll be working from home. This is especially welcome as I'm proving less and less able to handle morning and evening rush hour traffic. After about a dozen close calls and near misses, my nerves are frazzled when it comes to driving in the hail of bullets that is rush hour traffic. Where is the shining future of autonomous cars I was promised?

Speaking of, there was a kerfuffle with the windshield wipers on my car lately. The motor that runs the wipers broke, so no wipers. We've been under pretty much drought conditions here at Tranquility House and the surrounding environs for quite some time, we just haven't been getting any rain hardly at all. Seriously, I can't tell you how many times I've seen the entire eastern part of the country covered in masses of storms ... except for this one little blob in SE Tennessee. It's like seeing the effects of some pissed-off wizard curse. Dude, I get you just washed the Audi but dang, have you looked at the lake lately?

Anyway, so because I drive a 17 year old car the repair shop had to order in the parts. Waited and waited, a couple weeks goes by, hot damn they're predicting rain! But! I can't drive in the rain because no wipers. No word from the shop, so I called. They were, shall we say, less than enthusiastic and no word when the parts would be in. I got lucky, it didn't rain as predicted, it still hasn't rained in fact, so no harm done. The part finally did come in, I had arranged to take my car in before I went in to work and use their shuttle service to go the rest of the way in to work. Their shuttles run at 45 minutes past the hour, it's literally 2 miles away, all good, right? Wrong! They just didn't run the shuttle at 745. Just didn't. Even though I'd arranged to take it that morning. And didn't bother telling me.

Yeah so I waited for half an hour and no shuttle so I called an Uber. For a two mile drive. I was almost late for work. My workplace is good about letting folks come in anytime between 6 AM and 9 AM, so it's all good, but I'm used to being there at 8. And was almost late anyway.

And that reminds me, the day before this happened I went to the doctor for the follow up of the two weeks of Adderall I was prescribed because my NP now thinks I may be ADHD. I thought she had prescribed me more Adderall, there was talk about upping the dosage so I thought she had but didn't get the automated "You have prescriptions ready" text from my pharmacy. I physically went to go check and nothing. So I dunno. Maybe she didn't because I told her I felt antsy about it because what if I get pulled over by the cops and I've got half a bottle of Adderall in my bag and it's not medically necessary because I don't have an actual diagnosis for ADHD yet. She told me she'd confirm to the cops it was needed if that ever happened but does anyone honestly believe the cops are going to bother with that? They'd just see another crackhead amphetamin addict and my life would be over. Once you're tarred with that particular brush you'll never get a job again.

If you're not just outright shot by the cops in another "traffic stop that went wrong."

Yeah, so on the whole things are looking up somewhat, call it cautiously optimistic.

[conchoronzon]

Alex Axed the Audi

Steam rises from the hood of the black 2008 Audi TT, crumpled against the trunk of a large elm tree. The lights fade out in the dark night. Only a few minutes before, the alarm blared out. On the road above, a car speeds by, headlights briefly showcasing the scene.

Alex Arnetti, a month over 20, trembles against the rear passenger tire. He hugs his knees to his chest. His head pounds. Blood leaks out his broken nose. His cracked phone lays on the ground next to him. There’s no telling if the headache is from the crash or the fifteen shots spinning around in his guts.

After half-an-hour, a large black truck carefully makes its way off the side of the road. It parks a few feet away from the crash. Gino Arnetti steps out, looking every bit like the mob boss he might’ve been if he was born half a century earlier. He strides forward. His droopy eyes scan the scene. “Alex?” he asks.

“Over here,” Alex says. There’s a creak in his voice. He called his voice when he came back to it after the crash. That’s protocol. Always call Dad before anyone else, especially the cops. He should get up and start talking, but his face is a torrent of tears.

His father looms over him. “You good?”

Alex shakes his head.

Gino nods. “Yeah. You fucked up, kiddo. Smell like a liquor store.” His thick fingers fumble with his belt. He unzips his fly and fishes out his fat Italian cock. “Fucking embarrassing. No. Stop crying. Look at me.” Gino sighs. “You were a good kid. But the Arnetti’s don’t have fuckups. You know why you don’t have uncles?”

“Grandpa said you were the only one he needed,” Alex says.

“I’m the only one he didn’t cock,” Gino says. “The others were disappointments. Like you.”

Before Alex can say anymore, Gino strides forward. His foreskin stretches out and wraps around Alex’s shoulders. Still disoriented from the crash, Alex doesn’t even think to struggle when the cock skin yanks him forward. His face lodges in Gino’s cock head. The foreskin flares out again, pinning Alex’s arms to his sides and yanking him forward again.

Gino grunts as his cock goes to work. He normally likes his prey to struggle a bit on the way down, but with that bruise on his forehead, Alex probably has a concussion. He might be angry, but Gino isn’t cruel. That doesn’t mean he’s going to stop, either.

When his son is halfway in his cock, Gino drags them back to his truck. He opens the door and hits a finger scanner hidden inside the inner door handle. The step into the truck lowers. Gino steps backward onto it, and it lifts him up until he can easily sit on the leather seat. His cock droops from the weight of his son hanging halfway out the head.

The chair slowly slides back as a compartment opens in the floorboard and seat, revealing two giant, cushioned divots.

With a bit of effort, he spins around into his truck. His cock lays against the steering wheel. The horn doesn’t blare by design. The door closes on its own. A deep tint covers all the windows and windshields.

Alex’s legs kick weakly outside Gino’s cock. His foreskin holds tight to the young man’s ass. His jeans have dirt and a little blood on them.

“God damnit,” Gino mutters. He should have made the boy undress. The feel of denim on the inside of his cock is awful. It’s scratchy and thick. The taste isn’t so great either. Whatever. It’s too late for that. His foreskin pulls Alex in further. Gino spreads his legs just in time for Alex’s head to pop into his balls. They swell out. With a few more pulls, only Alex’s ankles and feet remain beyond Gino’s foreskin. His son’s shoulders poke inside the inner sanctum of his testicles.

Gino pauses devouring his meal. He reaches up and yanks off Alex’s sneakers. There’s no way in hell he’s dealing with having to cum out shoes later. They land haphazardly on the passenger seat. One bounces to the truck floor. Fuck it. He peels off his son’s socks and throws them off too. A little less clothes is a good thing. And the bare skin will taste nice going down his cock flesh.

With that, his foreskin flares out one last time, enveloping Alex’s feet. It slams down into his head. Gino sighs. His failure of a son is fully inside the cock that made him. His cock flexes several times a second. Gino uses his hands to help massage his prey the rest of the way down. He goes as fast as possible. The denim burns going fast, but it’s better than feeling it go down slowly.

Gino’s balls settle in the divots. His son curls up inside. “Well, even if you aren’t cut out to be an Arnetti, I still liked being your dad, Alex.”

“What’s going on?” Alex asks as he finally gets to a sitting position.

Cum seeps into Gino’s balls. He clenches. They grind together, throwing cum all around the insides, thoroughly coating Alex. “Putting you back where you came from,” Gino says. “You and all your siblings, fucking failures, every single one.” With a grunt, his nuts clench again. When they fall back down, they’re heavier. More filled. “Gonna use you to start a fresh batch. Pump you up your mother’s cunt. But first gotta–” He grunts. He feels Alex’s form compress. His cum must’ve softened the boy up by now. “–churn you back down.”

With two more clenches, Alex stops moving around. The lumps in his balls separate. Some limbs must’ve fallen off inside. As far as Gino could tell, the process of turning into cum wasn’t painful. None of his kids ever screamed or anything. Or maybe they just couldn’t because their insides were cum. Honestly, he didn’t care. It felt so fucking good and powerful.

Over the course of the next hour, Alex’s nutrients are distributed through Gino’s muscles. He feels his joints repair, his heart and lungs strengthen.

His balls, though still large, get to a size manageable enough to drive.

As he pulls away from the crash site, Gino can’t help but smile. Between his wife and all the members of the Arnetti group, he’ll have at least twenty kids with the cum named Alex. But the Arnetti name can only have one heir. So he’ll do as the Arnettis have for generations: turn every disappointment into another snack for his cock.

~~~

I've started up an ABC series of incest cock vore stories on smashwords. This specific story isn't over there because of the implied fatal nature, but if you want to check them out, you can here: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ConnorChoronzon

[notyourjaem]

coup's car model :) (bmw x6)

WOAH that is very 🫦🫦

honestly with the roster I have in my head I sometimes forget who drives what

I heard that he also drives a g wagon? idk if that’s true….idk nor can I like really see it?

g wagons kind of give me the ick because they’re really not even anything special. all of those like influencers drive them as sort of a status symbol it seems. and the windshield cracks easily because it’s a flat piece of glass. so if a rock hits it, the force has nowhere to disperse. for 100k+….ew.

I can see him driving one of those Audi’s that they call the “baby lambo” because it looks and sounds like a lamborghini urus. (it’s the audi RS Q8) ah im just a big fan of german engineering it seems I have a type.

also I googled the price and BASE is $125,800 LMAOOO (I think this is a 2021 model but ya know the newest one looks pretty much the same)

[franciscc]

status: closed for @jamesonxcassidy

location: pitstop garage

HIS CAR IS ABSOLUTELY FUCKED . his car is usually fucked but more so in a check engine light way , never in a tree falling on roof of car kind of way . unfortunately it wasn't an under the table job . not a problem that someone's uncle can fix in their shoddy aurora bay drive garage ( for multiple reasons ) , this was something that he only trusted an expert to repair . even if the the pittstop garage took their EEOC laws a little too seriously .

speaking of equal employment opportunities: " cassidy , " he greets with a grin , like they're old pals , as if the history between the two isn't incredibly unpleasant . hey , bygones , right ? " your sister told me you were working here , good for you , man . this one's mine , just wanted to check on it . " he gestures towards a black audi . the damage wasn't too bad , a dented roof and scrapes on the windshield . " wait , shit , sorry: it's frankie . " he uses a thumb to point at himself, " i don't know if you remember me from school ? years ago . "

[bikaa-m]

Klare Sicht nach vorn 🩵🥛🩵 · Ooops, it’s been a minute. New Audi/Pilkington windshield and ADAS recalibration by Heckman Glass Masters. #windschutzscheibe #kaputt #windshieldreplacement #ADAS #ADAScalibration #supportsmallbusiness #autoglass #cali_scenens #sepangblue #sepangblau #audi #s7 #sportback #audicanada #audis7 #quattro #s7sportback #blackoptics #blwzro7 #akrapovic #akrapovicexhaust #instaaudi #audigramm #audiquattro #audipixs #BelowZero7 (at DAS GLASHAUS) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqjYiKXv99x/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[latenightgasstationwalk]

Also, today I joined a very special club, comprised of people that have done a full windshield replacement on a brand new Audi :) I also did my first BMW today! I didn’t get pictures of it though because we got crazy busy.

I will say, however, that German cars are a nightmare to work on, and it wasn’t fun at all. But still a super cool milestone for me :)

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Apollo: Now I like tying knots. I'm quite good at it.

Apollo: If I tie a knot I take my time cause I want it to stay there.

Apollo: But as Kristoph casually strolls over to the garage, rolls up the garage door, and puts the mailbox through the windshield of an Audi?!?!!

Apollo: ... I must admit; I kinda rushed my knot tying job.

[factsintel]

Concept Cars; How Car Manufacturers Flex Their Imaginations

Since at least the 1930s, concept cars of some form have existed. Most are promptly forgotten as soon as a new group appears, but many are remembered by the public for years. Car concepts could almost entirely remain behind closed doors, or they could be used to promote the brand at a global auto show, or it could be something else entirely.

Concept Cars, The 1940 Aston Martin Atom

Originally equipped with a 2.0-liter overhead-cam engine, the Atom was a compact and strikingly designed sedan. However, in 1944, it was replaced by a pushrod engine with a slightly bigger capacity. It must have impressed David Brown (1904-1993), who drove it just before he decided to purchase the business, but a production version was never made.

Concept Cars, The 1955 Chrysler Falcon

The Falcon, a fast two-seat roadster with a 4.5-liter Chrysler Hemi V8 engine, was principally designed by Virgil Exner (1909–1973) and constructed by Ghia. It may have been a rival for both the first-generation Ford Thunderbird and the original Chevrolet Corvette, but Chrysler chose not to proceed with its release. It was unveiled two years after the first Chevrolet Corvette.

The 1968 Alfa Romeo Carabo

When Marcello Gandini created the scissor doors and low wedge shape for the mid-engined Carabo, he must have been staring straight ahead into the future. The world may not have been prepared for anything like this in the 1960s, but Alfa Romeo prevented it from progressing past the concept stage. The Carabo, however, is very similar to another vehicle that Gandini created. In contrast to the previous concept, the Lamborghini Countach went on sale in 1974. READ ALSO: Xiaomi SU7 Ultra Vehicle: Redefining Speed

The 1970 Mazda RX-500

The RX-500 initially appeared to have been created for similar purposes as the Alfa Romeo Carabo. It had a mid-mounted engine (in this instance a twin-rotor), butterfly swing doors, gullwing engine covers, and a wedge shape—albeit not nearly as severe as the Carabo's. All of this shouted "supercar!" but the RX-500 was actually designed to highlight Mazda's safety studies. It included a row of lights at the back, among other things, to let oncoming vehicles know if the vehicle was closing down, accelerating, or maintaining speed.

Concept Cars, Nissan 126X

The 126X, another wedge-shaped idea from 1970 (a lot of that kind of stuff was going on at the time), shared the Mazda RX-500's changeable rear lights. It had a slightly less supercar-like form than the Alfa Carabo or Mazda, but it was still somewhat strange. Nissan outperformed the other manufacturers in one area: the roof, windshield, and front body panels were all part of a canopy that opened from the front to provide access to the cabin.

Concept Cars, The 1976 Alfa Romeo New York Taxi

Despite being only four meters (157 inches) long, Italdesign's solution to a challenge set by the New York Museum of Modern Art was able to accommodate five people and had room underneath the seats for folding wheelchairs. Sliding doors on both sides added to the practicality, which was rather unique for 1976. You don't now link Alfa Romeo with New York taxis because the project was abandoned after the car was constructed. Shame, because it's a fascinating idea.

Concept Cars, 1978, Lancia Sibilo

The Megagamma and the Sibilio are only related since they both wore Lancia badges and attended the 1978 Turin Motor Show. They were as dissimilar from one another as chalk and China, otherwise. In essence, the Bertone-designed Sibilo was an even longer and more bizarre-looking Stratos. A 2.4-liter Ferrari V6 engine powered both the idea and the final vehicle.

The 1986 Audi Sport Quattr RS 002

The RS 002 was never meant to be merely a theoretical idea. This mid-engined coupe was one of several vehicles constructed for the Group S international motorsport regulations, which were set to replace Group B in 1987. It used the same mechanics as the Quattro rally cars. Group S was dropped in favor of the more production-based Group A after a string of catastrophic crashes. Before the car participated in a single race, the project was canceled because the RS 002 could not have been produced in sufficient quantities to qualify.

The 1992 Renault Reinastella

The Reinastella, a purely fictional vehicle that was reportedly part of the company's lineup in the 2328 model year, was on display at Disneyland Paris. It was named after a real Renault that was temporarily manufactured about 1930. Since it's hard to choose the right tense in this situation, we'll assume we're talking from the middle of the 24th century and say that the Reinastella could fly up to 186 mph and fly 15 cm (6 in) over the road in town and 150 meters (492 ft) above it in the country. A prototype appears to have absorbed the remains of its two occupants when it crashed during desert testing. Renault employed a redesigned construction that was incompatible with animals for production models.

Concept Cars, 1999, Bugatti 18/3 Chiron

The 18/3 Chiron was first produced when Volkswagen first acquired Bugatti. A 6.3-liter, 555-bhp engine with 18 cylinders grouped in three banks—thus the 18/3 part of the car's name—powered the three designs that were created around the same time. The remainder alludes to Louis Chiron (1899–1979), a Monegasque driver who competed in a number of vehicle brands but is arguably best known for his exploits in Bugattis. Bugatti's hypercar, which debuted in 2016, was given the Chiron name.

Concept Cars, 2006 Saab Aero X

Saab claims that the company's background in aircraft design served as some inspiration for the Aero X. This was partially demonstrated by the need to raise the cockpit canopy in order to allow passengers to enter and exit, which may be troublesome if you were unlucky enough to land rubber side up. It was claimed that a bioethanol-fueled twin-turbo engine could generate 400 horsepower, and the style elements suggested a future design language. Unfortunately, this was not very successful, and Saab was discontinued less than ten years after the Aero X was introduced.

2010 Citroen Metropolis

The Metropolis, an extremely large sedan that was especially popular in China, was as wide as a Maybach and longer as an Audi A8L. Power was provided by a 2.0-liter V6 engine and an electric motor as part of a gasoline-electric hybrid drivetrain. According to reports, this has the same amount of muscle as a 4.0-liter V8 that isn't hybrid, but it emits a fifth as much CO2. In 2020, the comparable DS 9 made its debut in China, while the Metropolis was never launched on the market.

2012, Chevrolet Code 130R

A tiny, rear-wheel-drive Chevrolet with a 1.4-liter turbocharged gasoline engine that could generate about 150 horsepower was proposed as the Code 130R. There was a lot of support for a production version, and it was well received. One of the main reasons this never happened was because GM would have needed to create a new platform on which to build it. Read the full article