#Blue-bellied Rollers

[the-unicorns-of-nienna]

[Image Description: a photograph of a blue-bellied roller in flight. This bird’s head is tan, while its body and wings are lapis blue; with an electric blue tail, and wing stripes. End image description.]

Blue-bellied Roller (Coracias cyanogaster), family Coraciidae, order Coraciiformes, found in Central Africa

photograph by Derrick Wong (@derrickw0ng)

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Thoughts on what kind of bird gabird would be/look like/based off?

My personal pick just for the theme of it would be a Luzon bleeding-heart

But for something more visually on brand there are a lot of options! I tried to pick ones that people probably haven't seen before :]

From the top left to right -

Egyptian vulture

Yellow-winged cacique or Mexican cacique

Golden myna

Black-and-gold tanager

Black-faced dacnis (they can have white or yellow bellies)

Hooded mountain tanager

Silvery tanager or Silver-backed tanager

Common sunbird-asity

Black-throated magpie jay

Blue-bellied roller

Beach kingfisher

Great hornbill

White-bellied sea eagle

Madagascar blue vanga

[proton-wobbler]

Blue-bellied Roller (Coracias cyanogaster)

"Beautifully colored bird that makes a loud noise :)" "because it's less known than some other rollers, i think, and it still deserves the love"

"This is a common bird of warm open country with some trees. These rollers often perch prominently on trees, posts, or overhead wires, like giant shrikes, whilst watching for the grasshoppers and other large insects on which they feed."

These guys have some fun mating rituals, sometimes between birds of the same sex! An excerpt from Biological Exuberance states: "One bird mounts the other as in regular copulation, beating its wings and sometimes grabbing in its bill the neck or head feathers of its partner... In almost three-quarters of the cases, mounting is reciprocal (the mountee becoming the mounter and vice-versa)." Sometimes this exchange happens multiple times, with as many as 28 mounts counted in succession. This behavior can also be accompanied by aerial displays including chases, soars and swoops. Blue-bellied Rollers are also known to copulate even outside of the breeding season, and multiple times in a row, "far in excess of what is required for fertilization".

Sources:

Bagemihl, B. (1999) Biological exuberance: Animal homosexuality and natural diversity. New York: St. Martin’s Press.

Image Source: eBird ( Frans Vandewalle)

[mid-nighttiger]

[Image ID: Picture of a blue-bellied roller sitting on a tree branch, surrounded by purple flowers and green leaves /End ID]

[tenth-sentence]

One bird mounts the other as in regular copulation, beating its wings and sometimes grabbing in its bill the head or neck feathers of its partner.

"Biological Exuberance: Animal Homosexuality and Natural Diversity" - Bruce Bagemihl

[whats-in-a-sentence]

Pied Kingfishers sometimes gather in flocks of 80 or more birds, and outside of the mating season they associate in small groups. (...) Blue-bellied Rollers live in pairs or small groups of 3-13 birds, which are probably extended families or clans; mating may occur promiscuously among several group members.

"Biological Exuberance: Animal Homosexuality and Natural Diversity" - Bruce Bagemihl

[todaysbird]

I went to a bird park for my birthday last week and oh! My! GODDDDDDDDD! I thought it would be just local endemic species which still would’ve been amazing, but they had my absolute favorite birds from around the world and ahhhhhhhh!!!! so photo dump rated 1 to 10

1. Himalayan Monal because that’s my second favorite bird of all time and I never ever thought I’d get a chance to actually see one!!

2. Blue-bellied roller. Rollers are one of my favorite groups of birds and I was so happy they had one and managed to get a fairly good photo of him in flight!

3. Roseate spoonbill- one of the birds I’ve always wanted to see, and I didn’t know they’d be there! There were so so many of them it was amazing!!

4. Parakeets!!!!! We got the chance to feed them and they were all over me!!! Definitely got a bunch of bites because they were pecking at me like crazy but so worth it!

5. Scarlet ibis!!! They were so much more vibrant in person than in photos which I didn’t even think was possible!!

6. Golden pheasant- completely took my breath away, just such a magnificent bird!!!

7. Great crowned crane- so so fuckin magestic. Right up close to us and they’re my favorite species of crane- there were also some gorgeous Sarus cranes and demoiselle cranes too!

8. Blue crowned pigeons!!!! Much bigger than I had thought they were, but just as majestic!!

9. Great Argus. My family burst out laughing because I saw it and immediately shouted “OH MY GOD THE GREAT ARGUS” and they thought it was hilarious

10. Malayan peacock pheasant. My jaw dropped when I saw them because again I never thought I’d see one in person ever. They also had mountain peacock pheasants a which are some of my absolute favs but they were much more shy so I didn’t want to bother them and didn’t get any pics

Runner ups: silver pheasants, black-necked swans, toco toucans, satyr tragopans, magpie jays, red-billed blue magpies, hyacinth macaws, Brazilian teals, and so so many beautiful waterfowl. Best day everrrrrrrrr 😭😭😭

Congrats!!! I wonder if this was Sylvan Heights Waterfowl Park - it’s one of my favorite places I’ve ever visited and it looks familiar!

[redroomreflections]

Something With Sea Turtles

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family Of Her Own AU

(Natasha has a secret family)

Summary: Pregnant R and Natasha loves on her.

Natasha is good at many things. Intimidating bad guys, disappearing without a trace, dismantling a firearm in seconds. Painting walls? Well, that’s a skill she’s still figuring out.

She had insisted on painting the nursery walls for the arrival of your little one in a few months. It was supposed to be a nice bonding experience. But, as with most things involving the two of you, it had quickly turned into a bit of a disaster.

"You said this would be easy," You teased from your spot on the floor, perched on a pile of cushions Natasha had painstakingly arranged for your comfort. Your hand rested on your growing belly as you watched her, amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Natasha stood on a step stool, paint roller in hand, squinting at the wall. She was trying her best to create a soft, underwater gradient—blues and greens swirling together like an aquarium, the perfect theme for your baby’s nursery. But the brush strokes were uneven, and there was a smudge where she got a little overzealous with the darker blue.

"It is easy," she replied, her tone stubborn. "I’m just… experimenting with technique."

"Right," You muttered to yourself. "We could just hire someone."

"No!" She exclaimed, then, more gently: "No. I want to do this."

And, honestly, she did. The baby wasn't a shock by any means. Natasha had been dreaming about this day since the first time she fell in love with you. She had planned every detail down to the color of the paint, but when it came time to do the actual painting, she wanted nothing more than to do it herself.

"I know, but we don't even know if our baby will like water or animals..." You reached into your lap to open a bag of chips. "What if they hate all this ocean stuff?"

"If our baby hates all of this ocean stuff, then we'll just paint over it," Natasha lowered her paintbrush to glance back at you. "When did you become such a pessimist?"

"It's called being realistic."

Natasha huffed and dipped the roller in the pan, then continued her work.

"You're supposed to be relaxing."

"I can't relax when I have paint splattered all over my clothes," You gestured to the splotches of green and blue across your sweatshirt. "I'll never get these stains out."

Natasha glanced over her shoulder at you and smiled softly.

"Well, if you remove your clothes, I promise I'll be gentle."

"You're a dork," You chuckled. "And I'm not stripping in front of the baby."

"The baby's not even born yet."

"Still."

"Fine, then how about I strip for you," Natasha wiggled her hips and hummed playfully. "How's that for relaxation?"

"Tempting, but maybe you should finish the wall before we do anything else," You said. You looked down at the sweater to tug it over your belly. It seemed a bit tight these days. "Do you think I'm getting too big for this?"

"Your shirt?"

"Yeah, I mean... I feel like my stomach is stretching the fabric."

"Hmmm," Natasha mused. "Well, I'd say it looks pretty good."

"Good?"

"Perfect," She smiled to herself. "Absolutely perfect."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Of course."

"You're not lying to me right?" You tilted your head.

"When have I ever lied to you, Y/n?"

"A bunch of times actually," You raised a brow. "I was your superior."

"That doesn't count. Besides, it's my job."

"Your job is to tell me the truth," You sighed. "Do my boobs look too huge?"

"What? No!" She turned on the stool, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"But I've grown a size," You frowned, running a hand over your breasts. "You should be telling me to cover up."

"Are you crazy?" She asked, her eyes wide. "Y/n, you're carrying our child; I think you're allowed to dress comfortably. Also, I'm not complaining about your breast size."

"Yeah, but—"

"Listen," She set the paint roller down and stepped off the stool, "You're beautiful. Okay? And your tits are a part of that. You know, they're like an extra gift from the universe."

"Extra gift?"

"Like I'm already grateful for our baby," She said. "But then, your boobs get bigger, and, you know, I'm a very appreciative person."

"You won't be able to touch them for a while," You reminded her.

"I'm willing to wait."

"And I'm going to have stretch marks."

"So?"

"And my stomach will look weird and puffy," You sighed. "I mean, it's not going to go away."

"I don't care," she said. "Y/n, none of that matters. You're giving us a baby."

You were about to make a joke about how much it would probably hurt to push something the size of a melon out of your vagina, but when you saw the look in her eyes, your smile faded. She was so earnest, and suddenly, you felt guilty for not appreciating everything she was saying.

"Sorry," You said.

"For what?"

"Not listening to you," You shrugged.

"Don't apologize," Natasha walked toward you, then knelt beside your spot on the pillows. "I get it. There are days when I feel like I'm losing my mind. But, no matter what, you'll always be my favorite thing to look at."

"Nat," You grinned.

"Seriously," She smiled back. "And I'm gonna tell you that every single day until the end of time."

"Well, you'll be busy painting."

"Then, I'll paint it on the wall," She winked.

"God, I love you," You murmured, leaning forward to kiss her.

"Love you too," She replied, her breath warm against your lips. "Both of you."

"Now, go back to painting before you ruin it." You gestured. "I can kind of see the vision for the whale."

"See? That's what I'm talking about. I'm making art."

"Do you mind taking a breath to come rub this on my belly?" You gestured to the container of cocoa butter next to you.

"Of course," Natasha grabbed the tube, and unscrewed the cap. Then, she squeezed a generous amount onto her palm and set the bottle aside.

"You know," She began, "what you said earlier. I hope you don't believe that about yourself. That I won't find you attractive."

"No, I don't, not really," You shrugged. "It's just hard sometimes. My brain goes all crazy and my hormones are making me all weepy. But, I have you. And, you're not going anywhere, right?"

"Of course not."

"Good," You murmured. "'Cause I don't think I'd last long without you."

"Don't say that," She said, her voice quiet.

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing," She scolded. "You'll be fine. I'll be fine. Everything will be fine. Now, can we focus on the positive? Like, for example, the fact that you're pregnant."

"I am pregnant."

"You are." She rested her hands on your belly. She began to rub the cocoa butter in circular motions against your skin. "You look so good like this."

"Really?"

"Yeah," She smiled, looking down at her hands pressing against the curve of your abdomen. She was so gentle with the bump. "This is exactly what I always imagined."

"What did you imagine?"

"A cute wife who was carrying my child," She smirked. "I guess I've always had a fantasy about having a family of my own."

"Well, you're living the dream." You grinned at her. For a second there wasn't much talking until you felt a slight movement inside of you. "She's awake."

"Really?" Natasha looked down.

"Yeah," You said. "Can you feel her?"

"Um, well," Natasha hesitated. "I mean, not really."

"Here," You reached down and took her hand, guiding it a bit further up your belly. "There. Do you feel that?"

"I—" Natasha paused, and then, she felt it, a faint movement against her hand. "Yeah?"

"Whenever you're near she gets to moving," You point out. "I think she recognizes your voice already."

A soft, surprised laugh escaped Natasha’s lips as she watched her hand rest against your belly, her expression melting into something softer than usual. She didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she let it linger, her thumb tracing circles on your skin.

"I think she’s already got me wrapped around her finger," she murmured, her voice full of affection and wonder. "Just like her mother."

"That's how it starts."

"Oh, is that a warning?"

"Yes."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." She leaned forward to kiss your belly. Then, she rested her cheek against your skin. "I couldn't be any happier than in this moment."

"That's good," You brushed her hair from her forehead, stroking her scalp gently. "But, just so you know, when I'm back on my feet, I'm kicking your ass for making me paint a sea turtle."

"Hey," she said, her tone playful. "You're the one who agreed to help."

"I regret everything."

[felixdragonheartofficial]

TFA TEAM PRIME HUMAN REDESIGNS FINALLY

FUCK

+headcannons

Optimus: gotta stay focused

looks too old compared to his bot form.

I find it impossible for Optimus to be more than a million years old in this canon. In the least, he's older than 1000 years and since we have mfs that are canonically over 70 million years old(fagatron iykyk) compared to that, he feels like a dude in his early-to-mid-30's being the group parent.

---

-I made him more youthful, gave him curly hair, and tailored his clothing to actually look like his bot form.

-workaholic

-on the cusp of barley being able to hold his liquor

-doesn't own a pair of pajamas until Sari gets some for him

-usually forgets to put them on, but appreciates the gesture

-stays active for like, 3 days until he can't fight off sleep with work brain anymore, and unceremoniously passes out on the couch to sleep for a full 24 hours

-ratchet sighs and puts a blanket over him as per routine

-frequently checks security feed

-elf on the shelf despiser

-early morning talks with jazz and ratchet over coffee (they all wake up at 6 am)

-half thrives on caffeine and a vigorous training protocol

-is a dog person, loves German shepherds to death

David sama, pls forgive me ily very much

Ratchet: to old for this nonsense

doesn't match his body type in the slightest.

Ratchet is really old, he's got a sallow face and a gramp gut, how dare they square him. He's wayyy too angular and peachy looking.

-I gave him his luscious curves back, adding all the equipment id expect a field medic to have because he is a field medic, not a regular doctor. I changed his facial proportions, and also made his face gaunt, for that dead inside PTSD look.

---

-drinks his coffee black with brown sugar, literally drinks it piping hot

-is one of those old people who complains about noise

-confiscates bumblebee and Sari's toy cars, and puts them in a high up cabinet

-neither of them know how to bypass the child safety lock lmao

-casual clothes includes a lot- a l o t of plaid shirts, and 10 pairs of the same blue jeans

-tunes out bulkhead and prowls convos about birdwatching

-big fan of political satire dramas

-Sentinel doesn't approve

-Ratchet doesn't give a rats ass about what he thinks of course

Bumblebee: professional smart-ass

doesn't match his body type/age.

Bumblebees holoform is presented as a 10-12 year old child specifically for the fact that he's short, and the comedic relief. Total ass

I set his human age as 19-20 years old, making him more of a big brother to sari because that og model is disappointingly lackluster

---

-Bumblebee is a scrappy wisecracking punk, like an adhd kid who just got roller skates for Christmas.

-since he doesn't have wheels, I feel like he'd wear skates instead to emulate the feeling

-terrible at watching where he's going cuz he's too busy trying to show off, so ratchet makes him wear all that padding + training wheels

-legit despises the padding and training wheels

-Jealous of Blurr for mastering roller blades lmao.

-his favorite games are choose your fighter and fps

-saw ONE ancient ass assassins creed playthrough and begged ratchet to install hidden tasers in his arm bands (was denied)

-Sari used her key to do it instead

-self appointed "rizzler"

-Optimus has zero idea of what that means and thinks it's code for something dubious

-Ratchet knows what it means and thinks it's silly

-"I' was something of a rizzler myself back in my day, kid"

-bumblebee cringes

-loves summer and swimming

-wants to be the fastest thing in the sea because y'know, it's bumblebee

-is spooked from the beach for awhile cuz he saw sharks in Prowls nature documentary

-there are infact, no sharks in lake Erie

Bulkhead: big guy, bigger heart

doesn't match his body type/aspirations.

Jesus fuck he's so wide?? And his belly migrated to his shoulders?? I'm gonna be honest, I really hate this design. I feel like it contributed to the "brute strength = stupid" take that most in the fandom associates with him.

---

-Bulkhead is a SWEET. CARING. NERD YOU FOOLS. He's like the male version of a tall goth gf-

-a tall-nerdy-farm hand-physics bf, You got me fucked up.

-Its already shown that bulkhead really likes art in Addition to creating it. He hates being only seen as the "muscle" so it wouldn't make sense for him to lean into that.

-bunny slippers that him and sari made together(she provided the buttons)

-the slippers go missing sometimes (basically considered community property unless he's wearing them)

(ratchet and prowl are the main offenders)

-frequent art museum goer

-really likes watching cooking shows, but is too shy to make food himself

-Owns a ton of star maps

-Really wants a treehouse that he, bumblebee and sari can hang out in

-pillowfort enjoyer

-casually reads quantum physics at the beach

Prowl: draft dodger

Doesn't look like him at all.

Prowls holoform being a mustachioed,white, police officer was an actual jumpscare for 7 y/o me, I kid you not

---

- I know this bitch would not wear a helmet (you can't force him to) que windswept hair

-Not as much as starscreams, for obvious reasons but yk

-prowl is like one of those "shoes are a prison for your feet"

-emo hipster

-has a pet cactus named "planty"

-bumblebee heckles him for it

-can and has brought his cactus with him on early evening motorcycle rides

-the helmet is reserved for his cactus, bring your own >:(

-salad consumer

-him and jazz share custody of the cactus

-repeat victim of the cat distribution system

-ratchet has probably spent hours telling him they can't keep any animals at base

-frequent midnight picnics with jazz

-and beachcombing

-and roaming around antique stores cuz jazz wants to know what vinyl records are

-got a mug with an attempted pink chibi cat with big round shiny eyes painted onto it, courtesy of bulkhead trying to find an artsyle

-cherishes this mug to death

-has a shrine dedicated to it

[allmoshnobrain]

kinktober 2024 | day 04 | masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader | Sex Toys + Public

✦ on this fic: NSFW!!!, +18, mxf sex, use of vibrator in a public setting, semi-public sex mentioned/implied

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When it came to what you wanted, your husband was a simple man. There was no whim, no desire of yours that Simon would ever turn down; if you wanted something, he’d give it to you without even thinking twice.

Sometimes, though, there was a twist.

Like when you begged him to take you to the amusement park, even though he wasn’t really a fan. Simon was a quiet, reserved person; wild roller coaster rides weren’t exactly his idea of fun. But he'd never say no to you, of course not.

As long as you played by his rules. He had to get his share of fun, too, after all.

And that’s how you ended up in the backseat of his car, legs spread open and panties around your ankles as he carefully slid a small vibrator into your wet pussy. His lips brushed your inner thigh before he pulled back, looking up at your flushed face.

“You know what this is?” he asked softly, and you whimpered when he pressed his thumb against your clit. “This toy’s motion-activated, love. We’re gonna have some real fun on those rides, yeah?”

And how could you say no to him when he always gave you everything you wanted?

“We’ll start slow,” he said, his voice low and husky against your ear as his hand settled on your lower back and you both walked into the park. “How about the merry-go-round, huh?”

You climbed onto one of the double-decker horses, you in front while Simon held your waist firmly, his rough hands slipping under your shirt. Your face flushed as the ride began, soft circus music playing in the background while the horse moved up and down. It was a gentle motion, but just enough to get that little toy going, the slow vibrations already building up tension in your belly.

“Simon,” you gasped, and he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close, pressing your back against his chest. He kissed your shoulder softly, and you let out a quiet, needy sound as your pussy clenched.

“Shh, love,” he muttered. “Don’t want anyone knowing what you’ve got going on, right?”

You somehow made it through the ride, even with shaky legs, hazy eyes, and flushed cheeks. You could always blame the heat — it was a warm day, the sun beating down from a clear blue sky. Simon helped you down from the merry-go-round horse, chuckling at the look you gave him and the blush still all over your face.

“You ready for something a little harder?” he asked, amusement in his eyes as he guided you to the Pirate Ship, his hand resting on your lower back. Your eyes widened, and you grabbed his free hand, glancing up at him.

“Babe, I don’t think I’ll—” you started, but he just shook his head.

“It’s part of the game, remember?” he teased, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Don’t worry, pet. You can always hold onto me if it gets too much.”

Of course it did. You didn’t even make it past the second drop on the Pirate Ship. The second it swung down again, the wild vibrations from the little toy inside you finally pushed you over the edge. You let out a choked moan, burying your face in Simon’s chest as your thighs shook, your pussy dripping and clenching. You could swear you felt his quiet laughter rumble in his chest as he tangled his fingers in your hair.

When the ride finally stopped, you got up, face flushed and heart pounding, with Simon steadying you as you wobbled on shaky legs.

“Oh, my,” the ride operator raised a concerned eyebrow when he noticed your state. “You alright, miss?”

“She’s fine,” Simon said, his voice low right behind you as he pulled you close against his chest, flashing the guy a polite smile. “Just not used to these wild rides, that’s all.”

You let out an annoyed little noise, trying not to blush even harder as the operator gave you a sympathetic look. Simon tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you even closer to his body as he kissed your temple sweetly — though it did nothing to hide the obvious hunger in his touch.

After that, of course the day would end with Simon finding a secluded spot to pound into you hard, fingers digging into the soft skin of your waist, showing you that no toy could ever match the way his cock made you feel so, so good.

Participate in the kinktober writing list with my FREE SPACE dynamic. There are some free spaces for specific pairings and you can shoot me asks with suggestions for kinks and plots featuring them. I will choose one for each character featured to write! Free spaces available: Sam Winchester (SPN), Jason Newsted (Metallica), Cap. John Price (COD), Kakashi Hatake (Naruto), Cronos (Venom) 

[lostloveletters]

This Must Be The Place (John Brady x OC)

Summary: Home is a place, and a person, and a strange thing to navigate when Brady’s been away from his for so long, and Woody’s never quite had one.

Note: I really missed writing for Brady and Woody, I'm sorry it's been so long! I was thinking I'd have this done like a week ago, but then I got stuck on a scene and had to rewrite some things. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Some angst.

‘I’m coming home. Woody will be with me. We’re getting married.’ 

John’s letter home, sent just before their departure from England, hadn’t been that short, but the message was clear enough that by the time they were Stateside, his mother had called—paid the long distance charges and all—just to speak to him after years of anxious writing. He choked up when he heard his mother’s voice again after so long, handing the phone to Woody so he could compose himself when he felt the conversation getting away from him.

Woody’s semi-frequent correspondence with his mother, particularly after his father died, put her in her good graces, as she found the letters odd yet charming. She especially appreciated the photo of the two of them that Woody included in one of her letters—which must have been from the party for Dye’s crew when they completed their 25th mission, since she was actually wearing her WAC uniform instead of her typical coveralls in it. ‘I thought it was from a movie magazine!’ his mother gushed to him in the letter that followed.

Looking at that photo, framed and displayed on the slightly yellowing floral-patterned wall along with decades’ worth of memories, from his parents’ wedding to his childhood with his brother, made him more certain of his future with Woody than ever. 

He pulled his pipe from his mouth and sighed. Being home without his father around made him feel a bit unsettled, even though he had been greeted with hugs and kisses from just about every one of his relatives at the door. His father had been their rock, the one who kept it all together, the kind of husband and father he aspired to be someday. Turning around to look at his fiance, he tried to see her through his father’s eyes, and quickly determined he would have liked her, there was no way he couldn’t have.

Woody cleaned up damn well when she wanted to, her blonde hair had been in hot rollers and then painstakingly styled early in the morning, before they took the train into town, his brother Gene waiting at the station to drive them to Victor. She scrounged up the money to buy a new dress from a department store for the occasion—midnight blue, loose-fitting, ‘Something I can move in,’ she had told him. John wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to seeing her legs like that. Throughout the evening, his eyes drifted to the soft, flowing hem around her knees as each of his relatives fawned over her.

It wasn’t necessarily eavesdropping, not when aunts and uncles and cousins clamored over each other to speak to his future bride, who bashfully accepted their compliments and patiently entertained their questions.

“You’re from San Diego, aren’t you?”

“San Francisco, actually, but I’ve been all over.”

“San Francisco! It must be so sleepy up here to you!”

“Oh, I’m just glad to be wherever John is,” she said, glancing over at him almost shyly. “We could end up in Alaska for all I care.”

Her story of how they met won them over. The twinkle in her eye when his relatives gasped and crossed themselves when she told them of his crash landing upon arrival at Thorpe Abbotts—a detail he omitted in his letters home, it only would have been a source of unnecessary anxiety back then, but humorous and exciting in hindsight.

She’d ridden up to the wreckage of a well-executed emergency belly-landing in the truck with Ken Lemmons and the rest of the available ground crew, ready to get to work once he examined the damage. In the middle of Ken’s quick and astoundingly accurate assessment—’It really wasn’t that bad,’ she assured his enraptured family—she introduced herself to the fort’s pilot, mentioning to them how handsome she found then-Lieutenant John Brady when she first saw him.

“Love at first sight,” one of his younger cousins gasped.

“Something like that.” Woody said, light laughter in her voice. “After a while, I realized the progress on the plane wasn’t all he was interested in when he came around the hangar to watch me work.”

Their eyes met from across the modest living room’s threshold, sharing private smiles as if the dozens of people crammed inside all disappeared. 

“Can you blame me?” he finally said.

Everyone had something to say after that, all clamoring to get their two-cents in. One of his uncles patted his shoulder, "You picked a good one."

He grinned—he sure did.

The sentiment was reiterated as the larger group dispersed throughout the house. He managed to slip into the dining room to make a plate of what was left of the hors d'oeuvres his mother had set out. Cheese and crackers, some cold cuts, too. Didn't realize how much he missed things like that, savoring each bite as he stood near the kitchen, watching Woody with one of his aunts.

She slouched a bit, withered compared to how she had been entertaining everyone in the living room. 

“A lady mechanic,” his aunt marveled, “you know I can hardly believe it, but I’m sure you showed those boys a thing or two.”

“I was just glad I could do my part,” Woody said, the canned answer acceptably modest.

“Your family must be so proud of you.”

Her strained smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “My parents are, um—“

“Aunt Del, I think I heard my mother asking for you,” John interrupted, setting his plate down.

“Oh, I better go see, then. Lovely talking to you, dear,” she said, patting Woody’s arm before departing the kitchen.

Woody leaned against the counter, audibly sighing in relief. She fought to blink away her exhaustion, traveling into town in the morning to keep up a facade through the evening, wanting so desperately to make a good first impression on his family, the agreeable, lovely future in-law they all wanted.

He moved in front of her, shielding her from any nosy relatives who might poke their heads in, looking for her. 

“You saved me,” she said.

“She shouldn’t be bringing it up anyway," he said. "I know my mother told them—"

"It’s a practice run for the wedding.”

“We could elope. Go to the courthouse first thing in the morning…”

She chewed on her bottom lip, eyes darting all over the room before bringing her attention back to him. "No, we couldn't," she said with finality. "It wouldn't be fair to them."

But it'd be nice. Shorten the list of things they had to worry about, though it'd just as quickly put her on his family's shit list as she managed to get in their good graces over the course of an afternoon. It almost felt too easy. Maybe that was what everyone wanted after everything that happened over the past few years, glad to finally have John home and willing to overlook any reservations about the woman he brought home with him.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look?” he asked, gently tugging on the hem of her dress and pulling her from her thoughts.

“I feel naked without trousers on.”

“I wish you were.”

She tapped his chest with the back of her hand. “Watch it, Johnny.”

“I’m sorry we have to stay here.”

“Why?”

He nodded toward the crowded living room. “Lack of privacy, for starters.”

She shook her head, echoing her earlier sentiment. “I’m just glad to be with you.”

“As soon as we’re both working, we’ll start looking for a place. Maybe an apartment to start.”

“Your family would be okay with that?” she asked. “Us living together?”

“Probably not, but we’re engaged at least, and after the past two years, I don’t want to be without you again.”

“Me either.”

They spent the following half hour or so hiding in the kitchen before his relatives began filtering out, leaving them with hugs and well-wishes and promises to invite them over for lunch or dinner sometime. 

"Woody, it was great meeting you," Gene said, giving her a hug. "Keep an eye on this one, he might not look it, but he can be trouble."

"I'm enough trouble for the both of us, believe me," she said, retreating back to John's side.

The house was soon empty, save for the three of them, sitting in the living room with the radio playing softly in the background of the conversation between John and his mother.

Even though she brewed some coffee for them, Woody could hardly keep her eyes open. She nodded off for a moment, her mug nearly slipping from her hands.

"John, the poor thing is exhausted. Why don't you show her upstairs while I clean up? I made up your brother's old room for her."

"Thank you," Woody said. "Really, for letting me stay here. I can pay you rent, or—"

"Please, you're almost family now. And I trust you both to…" his mother struggled to find the words, almost flustered, and Woody tried her best to contain a snicker, "mind yourselves."

"Woody keeps me honest," he lied.

"Alright," she conceded with a smile. "Good night you two."

As soon as they were upstairs, they wasted no time in shoving into the bathroom together—a tight squeeze, but more than fine by them. Their respective nighttime routines peppered with kisses and soft touches while teeth were brushed and faces were washed, practically pressed against one another while sharing the limited sink space. 

They paused to look at themselves in the mirror on the wall, a domestic portrait staring back at them. He pressed his lips just below her ear, settling his chin on her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist from behind. 

Whenever she blinked, she expected it to be a dream she would wake up from, back in the barracks at Thorpe Abbotts, waiting for him to come back, worrying incessantly. But she put her hands over his and squeezed gently. Real, warm, loving. Always loving.

"I wish we didn't have to sleep in separate rooms," she mumbled.

"We'll be fine," he said. "It won't be for too long, anyway."

She wanted to say something—that it was ridiculous, they were adults for crying out loud. And after everything he especially had been through, couldn't there have been some grace, some wiggle room, all things considered? But it'd been clear through the way his family interacted with him throughout the day that they didn't know nearly as much about it as she did. Even then, there were things he kept to himself, things she'd probably never know.

Feeling almost useless, she turned around, pressing her lips to his, hoping he knew everything she couldn't say was in that kiss, in the way her blunt nails tenderly scratched his jaw. "I'll see you in the morning."

The hallway was short, the room easy enough to find with Woody's two suitcases sitting neatly next to the door, Gene having brought them up for her once they got to the house, encouraging her to unpack after the party, 'Make yourself at home.' She hesitated, more than used to living out of the two suitcases and not having much to her name anyway. She was careful when she set one of them on the bed, digging through for pajamas, a satin set consisting of an olive green camisole, matching robe, and loose, flowy pants with lace detailing around the cuffs. John bought it for her when they were in Manhattan, insisting his family would think he wasn't taking good care of her if she puttered around in her old PT shirt and men's pajama bottoms. Felt like they spent half the money they had on hand to buy new clothes, so they'd be real people and blend in with all the rest. 

His mother made up the room beautifully for Woody—the soft, worn linens smelled faintly of detergent, but mostly of home, something she heard plenty of people refer to when the scent of a certain blend of tobacco or freshly cut grass was in the air, but never quite understood until she got under the covers and immediately thought of John.

Settling on her side, she stared at the wall between them, like if she looked at it long enough, she'd be able to see through it, see him. One measly wall, nothing compared to two years and thousands of miles, but she still missed him terribly.

She wrapped her arms around her middle in a weak attempt to comfort herself and closed her eyes. She couldn't find sleep behind them despite her earlier exhaustion, her racing thoughts keeping her awake.

The door creaked open, and she sat up on her elbows, brows furrowed in confusion until John closed the door behind him.

“Are you out of your mind? Your mother could come up here any minute and—“

“It’s not that…I can’t sleep without you,” he mumbled, almost embarrassed. They’d spent the past few weeks practically attached at the hip, from the time he arrived back at Thorpe Abbotts, on the ship from England to New York, to the guilty weekend in a Manhattan hotel room. Even in the familiar walls of his childhood bedroom, he tossed and turned when left to face the night alone.

“Oh, Johnny,” she cooed, extending her arms to him. “Come here.”

He curled up into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She silently cradled him until she felt hot tears on her skin.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly.

“‘m sorry."

“Don’t ever apologize. I love you.”

“I love you.” He held her tighter, the way he would cling to a teddy bear when he was a boy, too young to face his fears on his own but too old to seek the comfort of his parents for it. “I love you so much.”

In an attempt to calm him down, she stroked his hair. It wouldn’t look great, his mother finding them entangled in bed together or catching him sneaking out of her room. She didn’t seem like an unreasonable woman, though. Surely she would understand that seeking comfort wasn’t a sin—nothing they did was, not when there was love at the root of it all.

“Go to sleep,” Woody whispered, though she could tell by his steady breathing he already was. “I’ll be here in the morning.”

[herpsandbirds]

Blue-bellied Roller (Coracias cyanogaster), family Coraciidae, order Coraciiformes, The Gambia

Photograph by Ron Verdonk

[artificial-transmutations]

Moving into the haunted House

The ghost was idly floating in the dusty air of the attic. Well, that was not technically correct. He had fashioned himself a hammock out of his own ghostly glowing ectoplasm in which he was swinging slowly from left to right. The ghost, whose real name had been forgotten by even himself, was reading the latest edition of "Ghost Magazine", the leading periodical of the spirit world.

"Another successful year for our dear readers." the cover read. The ghost flipped through the pages, past the many ads for various ghost products, such as "Ghost Toasters" and "Ghost Bars" (whatever they might be) and went straight to the centerfold. Here was his favorite part: the annual "Ghostly Studs" page. He whistled as he looked at the various ghosts pictured. All were naked, and all were flexing their muscles in various poses, showing off their ectoplasm. Some were glowing with a green light, others blue or orange.

The ghost in the hammock could hardly be called a "ghostly stud". To be quite honest, he was pretty much the opposite. He wasn't very tall but broad in the worst sense of the word: His body was formed like a sack and ended in a comical tip not much below his hefty belly. On top of the blubber sat a fat, bald head, which was sporting an ever present smile, and on the neck, a round, pudgy face, with a button nose. This appearance was what earned him his nickname, Chunker, which was pretty much how the rest of the ghost world called him.

Chunker was a good-natured ghost, who liked to be lazy, eat, read and do not too much else. Of course, that was when he was alone or in the ghostly company of his housemates. In the rare occasions that he was confronted with mortals...

Chunker couldn't finish the thought because a noise from downstairs disrupted the silence: The door of the old house opened with a creaking sound and the muffled voices of some people entering could be heard. What was that? No living soul had entered the haunted house for at least 3 years now!

Chunker got up with some effort and reintegrated the hammock and the magazine into his body. He had to check that out at once! He floated downstairs, following the sound of the voices, and found himself in a dark and dusty hallway. At the end of it, the door to the dining room was ajar and Chunker could see two young adult men entering. Both were dressed in work clothes and were carrying various tools. One of them, a slightly taller brown haired individual, was carrying a ladder, while the other one, who had blonde hair, had a bucket of paint in his hand.

"Are you serious, Finn?", the blonde one asked. "You said your new house needs a bit of tidying up and some paint. This place is a dump!"

"Oh, come on, Brody. It's not that bad." Finn answered.

"I just hope you didn't pay too much for... this." Brody gestured around to the dusty interior.

"No, in fact the previous owner was really glad to be rid of it. Said it was haunted or something like that. So, yes, I got it really cheap!"

"That's something at least. And you said there'll be pizza and beer?"

"Absolutely. Now, let's get to work!"

The two young men began to look around the house. Chunker, meanwhile, had listened with interest. It wasn't the first time a fleshy had bought the house. Usually, Chunker and his housemates got rid of them pretty quickly. What was different this time, however, was, that the other two ghosts were currently on holiday on a Caribbean Island, leaving Chunker to take care of everything. The smile on his face broadened considerably. That meant he got to play with those two meat bags all by himself!

Chunker didn't have to wait too long. It was obvious that the two young men were planning to renovate the whole house and were now beginning with the living room.

"Hey, Finn?" Brody asked. "Could you pass me the paint roller?"

"Sure."

Finn was rummaging in the box they had carried into the room, and pulled out a roller, a tray and a brush.

As they started painting the room, Chunker, who was hiding in the ceiling, was able to get a better look at the two men. They were both in their early twenties and lean, though clearly not working out much. Finn was slightly taller and had an ever so slightly more muscular build, but the difference was not that big. Chunker's gaze lingered a bit on their firm asses. Both had a nice bubble butt. Chunker could tell from the bantering that the two were probably friends, straight friends from what he could tell. Even when Brody climbed up the ladder to paint the wall, Finn didn't seem to be ogling his friend. Chunker grinned and started to think about what to do with the two of them.

About an hour later, he had the perfect idea. He watched as the two men continued their work, occasionally drinking water and chatting. Just when Brody was taking a sip out of the water bottle while still on the ladder, with Finn underneath it, Chunker made his move. There was a tray of paint on the ladder with Brody, near to the edge. All it needed was a bit of a ghostly push to send it down, right on top of Finn, covering the surprised man in a thick layer of white paint.

"Aaaaaahhhh! Fuck! Brody!"

Finn stumbled back in surprise and tripped over the bucket of white paint that had been standing there. He didn't topple it over completely, but another part of his clothing got a new layer of paint, namely his ass.

Chunker, who was floating above the mess, chuckled. The two men were flustered, and Finn was trying to clean the paint off of his face, while Brody was looking on from his vantage point.

"Can't you watch what you're doing?", Finn asked.

"It's not my fault! I didn't even touch the tray."

"Oh, shut up, will you. Of course, you knocked it over with your fat ass."

Brody couldn't come up with another explanation and shrugged. "Well, sorry man."

He climbed down the ladder and watched Finn try to clean himself up with a rag. It didn't really work, and, when he turned around, Brody was unable to hold back a snort of laughter.

"What is it?", Finn asked.

"Nothing. I mean, you are really white now."

"Ha. Ha."

"Seriously, man. It's everywhere."

"Yeah, yeah." Finn said and pulled the wet cloth over his face.

"But seriously, there's no way you're going to get that out when it's dry. Does this house have a shower?"

"There should be. Let's try it."

Brody nodded. "Alright. You take a shower and I try to clean up the mess here."

"Thanks, man."

"Don't worry. But, hey. Try to be quick. I want my pizza!"

"Okay, okay."

Finn made his way to the bathroom which had, indeed, an old shower installed. He carefully closed and locked the door before he started to strip out of his paint stained clothing.

Chunker, who was hovering a bit behind him, was watching. As Finn pulled down his pants, Chunker could finally get a good look at the man's naked ass. He had to admit that it was a fine ass, a tight bubble butt. What really baffled him however was the front department. Chunker hadn't been sure which of the two men would be his main toy, but the size of Finn's manhood made the decision pretty easy.

Finn stepped into the shower and turned on the hot water, which started spraying on him in a nice, strong stream.

"Ahh. That's good."

When Chunker was sure that Finn was busy enjoying the shower, he floated out of his hiding place towards the door. Finn had locked it to have some privacy but as far as Chunker was concerned, Finn should present his assets a bit more proudly. Silently, Chunker's ghostly fingers unlocked the door and swung it open entirely, which would give everyone passing by a real good look on the showering man. Then, Chunker quickly squeezed himself into the pipework and made his way to the shower.

Meanwhile, Finn was enjoying the hot, steamy water. Modern showers didn't get all that hot, but this one here was old and the water temperature was pleasantly high. Some of the paint had already started to dry, so Finn was rubbing his face and hair with his eyes closed and thus did not notice the faintly blue glowing ectoplasm dripping out of the showerhead, somewhat solidifying into Chunker’s massive, yet spectral form behind the young man.

Carefully not to be too obvious, Chunker extended his ghostly arms around Finn's waist and started rubbing his hands over the firm chest, feeling the young man's nipples ever so slightly. Finn didn't notice consciously, but Chunker could feel the man's body reacting under his hands. Slowly, he moved his hands lower. Finn's body was a work of art, a finely crafted piece of art. Chunker took his time feeling the muscles under the wet skin, the firm pecs, the well-defined abs, and then, finally, the pubic hair and, underneath, Finn's large cock.

It took all the self-control Chunker had to only apply the lightest touches to the man's dick, but Chunker had other plans still. So, he only caressed the soft dick very carefully, not strong enough for Finn to be recognizable in the conscious part of his mind, but absolutely enough for his subconscious to notice.

Finn moaned quietly and unconsciously and leaned against the cold tile wall next to him. Meanwhile, Chunker was stroking and tickling the half-hard cock, playing with it and teasing the head, while Finn was still leaning against the wall, his eyes still closed.

The moaning intensified, and soon, Finn's cock was fully hard. Careful not to overdo it, Chunker continued to stimulate the young man, who was now bucking his hips back and forth, his eyes still closed when, just as planned, Chunker heard Brody walk the corridor leading to the bathroom. That was his cue to disappear into the pipes again!

"Okay, I've got the mess cleaned up somewha- woha." Brody had just arrived in front of the wide open door and had a good look on the other man bucking his hips, displaying his erect manhood for the world to see.

"I... oh, ehm. Sorry to interrupt." Brody backed away quickly.

Finn, on the other hand, had been taken aback and his eyes flew open quickly. "Brody! Oh, shit. Sorry, man."

"Yeah, no, it's fine. Just, you know, I can still see you."

Finn scrambled for the towel, wrapped it around his waist and left the shower. "Just a second."

"Sure, sure."

Brody stood awkwardly a few steps down the corridor, just enough to give Finn some privacy despite the wide open door. There was an awkward silence until Brody remarked: "You know, when I suggested you enjoy a shower, I didn't mean..."

"Brody. Don't."

"Right. Sorry."

Most of Finn's clothes were still covered in half-wet paint. There was really no use in putting them on, so, Finn decided to just put on his boxer shorts and carry the rest of his clothes in front of him to hide as much as he could. Not that it was necessary, though. Finn's cock had very quickly gotten soft again when Brody had caught him... doing what exactly?

"I don't think we can do anything more today." Finn broke the tension. "I mean, I need a new set of clothes and all."

Chunker, who was listening in from a wall behind Brody shook his head. No, no, the fun had only just begun. Quickly, he made a noise like a rumbling stomach, just when Brody agreed.

"Oh, right. On the other hand, I still promised pizza and beer, right?" Finn quickly added in reaction to his friends supposed hunger reaction.

"Right! Great idea!" Brody had a tendency to leave the situation as quickly as possible but also didn't want his friend to feel bad. So, he suggested: "Maybe we can watch something on the TV if it still works while eating?"

Finn gladly agreed. That would surely stop any awkward conversation.

Both friends slumped down in the couch in the living room and settled on a rerun of some old Buff the Vampire Slayer episode. They ordered pizza and beer which quickly arrived. Of course, with Finn being half naked, Brody had to go to the door to receive it.

When the two of them were finally relaxing a bit, Chunker, who had floated into the couch could finally make his move. Again, he started slowly. Not unlike before, small tendrils of blue ectoplasm crept into Finn's boxer shorts and brushed ever so slightly against the flaccid man-meat inside.

Finn reacted instantly, just as Chunker had hoped. A tingling sensation spread through his lower body, and a small moan escaped him.

"Everything alright?", Brody asked.

"Yeah, sure." Finn answered and tried to readjust himself without Brody noticing.

Chunker couldn't really see what was going on, but he could feel it. He was faintly stroking the half-hard dick, tickling it and massaging the balls with his ghostly appendages.

Even though Brody tried to focus on the television, it became harder and harder for him to ignore Finn. The other man tried to subtly readjust the contents of his boxer shorts often and even though Brody really didn't want to look, he could see said contents moving and twitching slightly even when Finn did not touch them.

Of course, Finn tried to hide it as best as he could, but certain facts cannot be hidden very well, especially, when the facts are already quite large in their flaccid state. So, not only did Brody notice some twitching in his friends groin but also a growing half-hard boner that made a rather clear outline against the fabric of the shorts.

Chunker knew that now, the real fun would be about to begin. When Finns hand moved for his beer bottle the next time, Chunker quickly squeezed his massive form into the small bottle, ready to start.

"So...", Brody asked carefully. "You okay, buddy?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you, I dunno, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

Finn moved the bottle to his mouth to take a big sip, when Brody sighed and spoke again.

"Look, I really don't know how to ask this and I'm sorry, but... Are you, like, gay, Finn?"

Finn spit out his beer - and Chunker, who had just prepared to enter the young man's body with the beer - in surprise.

"What?! No! Why do you ask that?"

"I'm really, really sorry, but, dude, I saw you in the bathroom, and I didn't mean to, but, well, you had a hard on, and, you know, if you need someone to talk to, I'm always here. To talk, of course, not for anything else. And now..." Brody gestured towards Finns crotch but his courage left him again, so he continued: " I'll stop talking."

Chunker, who had reformed in the couch, was laughing his ass off. If only his housemates would have seen this! He would never hear the end of this!

Finn was tomato-red by now and tried to cover himself with his hands.

"Oh god, I'm sorry, I just feel so weird today. But I'm not gay, I promise!"

"Okay. I'm not gonna judge you, okay? You're my best friend, and, you know, I'm cool with it if you're gay or bi or whatever."

"Yeah, but I'm not."

Let's see about that, decided Chunker. He didn't get in the usual way, so he had to take another route. With a sudden push of his ectoplasmic essence, he squeezed himself into the tight virgin asshole of Finn that was firmly planted on the couch.

All of a sudden, Finn, who had felt some unusual sensation on his behind, jolted up. "Brody! Did you just grab my ass?!"

Brody was flabbergasted. "What? No!"

"I just felt... oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!"

Chunker, who was still not visible, had started to stimulate Finn's prostate from the inside while working his way upward, filling up the man's body with his essence.

"Are you... okay?", Brody asked again.

"I... oh..." moaned Finn again, as his right arm started to act seemingly on its own, spreading out on the back of the couch, around Brody's shoulders.

"What are you doing man?", asked Brody.

"Nothing, I..." Finn started but was interrupted by a sudden sensation of lust and longing. At the same time, his right arm tried to pull Brody in but was met with considerable resistance. Even though Brody was a bit smaller than Finn, he was just as strong.

Chunker, who was almost in full control of Finn's body now frowned. But this wasn't anything a little ectoplasm injection couldn't fix. Brody stared at Finn's arm, transfixed as it started to rapidly grow more muscular, quickly reaching bodybuilder-like dimensions. However, it was only Finn's arm that was changing. At the shoulder, the comically large arm still connected to the same torso. Brody was so enthralled that he wasn't able to react when the now considerably stronger arm pulled him in again. A big fat grin was now plastered on Finn's face, and he said, with a voice that didn't quite seem to belong to him: "Oh, we're gonna have so much fun!"

Before Brody could react, he was pulled into a kiss, too perplex to even struggle. Inside Finn, Chunker prepared for what was to come. He was proud to be pretty good at possessing fleshies, but he had rarely tried two at once. When the lips of the two men locked, Chunker sent a part of his essence into the other man, who was still too surprised to struggle.

Chunker felt Brody's body react to the new sensation. He immediately got into it and Chunker felt the other man's cock growing hard quickly as well. Possessing two people at once was difficult, nearly impossible really. But in this case, the pent up sexual desires of the two made things easier. Chunker just had to give some direction and watch "his boys" go at it full force.

Finn pushed Brody's head down, and Chunker felt the hot, wet mouth enveloping Finn's dick. It was an incredible sensation, the soft lips of the other man and the wetness of his tongue. At the same time, Chunker could feel the somewhat salty and manly precum marinated cock on Brody's tongue as he began to suck. It took all of Chunker's strength to keep the two men under his control and not get swept away.

Finn, meanwhile, was getting lost in the sensation. All his senses were occupied by the blowjob he was receiving and the warm wetness and the incredible feeling on his cock. Even the sounds, Brody's heavy breathing, the moans of the two, the gagging sound as the thick shaft was shoved into his mouth, it was almost too much for the man. However, with a sheer feat of will, Chunker prevented the young man from cumming right here and then. Instead, he made Finn shove Brody's head away and get up.

It almost didn't need any impulse from Chunker for Brody to turn around and stick his bubble butt in the air, offering his virgin ass. Chunker quickly positioned the hard and ready cock of his puppet against the tight entrance and pushed forward, while Finn's hands practically ripped the work pants down.

Chunker couldn't believe how amazing it felt. He was not a virgin by any means, but the tight virgin hole, combined with the hot and tight insides, the incredible sensation on his cock and the moans and feelings of the man taking it was almost too much for him.

"Oh, shit!", Finn groaned. "This is the best fucking thing ever!"

Chunker could only agree. His puppets were fucking each other hard, and the sensations were almost overwhelming him. Straight boys his ass. The two of them were so into it, it was obvious that some unspoken desire had pent up for most of their adult lives.

Finn was pounding into the other man as hard as he could, and Brody was thrusting back, his own dick swinging free and dripping copious amounts of pre-cum on the sofa below. Finally, the two men were at their limit.

"Finn, oh shit, I'm gonna cum."

"Do it, man, fucking shoot it!"

Brody let out a scream and his dick began spurting thick loads of white cum all over the sofa.

"Fuck!", moaned Finn.

And then, the orgasm hit him. He felt his balls contracting and his dick twitching and a huge amount of cum being released from his dick, straight into Brody's ass, who was still thrusting back on his cock, riding out his own orgasm.

With the double orgasm, Chunker couldn't hold on any longer. He was forcefully ejected from two bodies at once, experiencing the intense rollercoaster of emotions as if he just cummed himself.

Before the two men could recover, Chunker flew off to his attic. That had been a great possession session. He just hoped that the two men would return for more.

This is my contribution to the annual great story gift exchange, for @thepossessionmaster.

[abbysbasement]

Please let’s talk about Abby’s fuck faces.

The resting rage face she has in her idle animations is definitely the face of exertion she has when she’s pounding you. Knitted brow, beads of sweat condensing on her hairline and nape, gritted teeth and flared nostrils. every thrust punctuated by an unconscious clenching of her face. She has a lot of automatic gestures and habits she does when she’s having sex; squinting her eyes closed as she lifts you off the ground, her arm closed around your soft belly as she thrusts into you from a standing position, her jaw clenching and unclenching, saliva pooling on her tongue the way that every muscle in her face goes slack, expression softening instantly as she fucks you through your orgasm, all of the tension washing down her body as she holds you tight. gets very into strap-on sex, when you’re sucking her off she moans and grips your hair, licking her o-shaped lips like she can feel every stroke.

abby bottoming or subbing is like night and day. guttural groans and wheezes coming out of her lungs as you knock her pussy out the frame, off-white teeth digging into the soft flesh of her lips to suppress her moans, only stopping when you pluck the little space hard with your finger and tell her that you’ll pop her harder if she keeps being disobedient. that fully broken in subspace face is crazy, definitely an eye roller, long fluttering lashes low-set over those pretty blue eyes, the more they disappear letting you know that she’s totally gone. Tongue lolling out and dripping from being used over and over again. Biting those soft plump lips makes her look so, so fucking innocent, so worthy of destruction, especially when her hair is spread around her and sticking to her face and her cheeks are blushed and bright. She’s an angel down from heaven, so sweet and pliant that you have no choice but to see what little expressions and noises she makes when you break her.

[dragoncarrion]

I can't believe i never knew about the blue bellied roller before

[whatsthebird]

Week of 15SEPT2024 Answers

Answers hidden under the cut.

302 - Blue-bellied Roller by @aabcdp

303 - Fulvous Whistling-duck by @nohriantomatoes

304 - None of the Above. Rook by @ascendeddragonsage

305 - Red-winged Blackbird by @strawberrygiorno

306 - Great Spotted Woodpecker by @etchif

307 - Common Gull by @ornithological

308 - Merlin by @thintheboxking

How many birds did you get right? Consider adding correct birds to your WTB Life List!

As always, birding is a cooperative experience. Help your fellow birders out by discussing key features that help identity and distinguish a bird in the notes.

Finally, let's give a feathery thank you to this week's submitters.

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