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i-beg-your-parsons · 6 years

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[Shreya] wasn’t in last week’s chapter, so have a fic (#1)

Relationship: Shreya Mistry/F!MC (Celestine Leblanc)

Count: 1775 words

So I’ve decided that I’m going to make this a series where I update this whenever a character (in this case, Shreya) is swept under the rug (so am I updating this every week, multiple times then? Who knows! 🙃). It’ll be good practice for me to get back into writing. But maybe not every week exactly, I’m starting my undergraduate thesis lol.

Apologies if they’re OOC, especially Aster? (She’s good friends with Shreya in this fic!!) I haven’t tried writing them much and it’s been a while since I did a fic lmao. Hope you peeps like!! Let me know if you want to be tagged for subsequent ones.

This uses the following prompts:

“My cat is more sassy than you’ll ever be.”

“Watch out! I can’t slow down! Move! Move! Move!”

“Am I good at skateboarding? Pfffft! Of course I am!”

Tags: @jellymonster, @deeohno, @coolios-beanios, @h-doodles

“Watch out! I can’t slow down!”

Shreya is startled by a panicked voice, almost dropping her hand mirror on the sidewalk. She whirls toward the direction of the sound. What the -

“Lady, please move, move, move!!” A blur of blue, red, and brown was hurtling towards her before her brain could really process anything. They make a sharp turn, just barely brushing her skirt, so thankfully she avoided being pummelled into the wall. Her three-inch heels, however, threw her off balance, making her stumble into a large potted shrub situated outside the facade of Maison D’Yew.

Wonderful. How fucking elegant.

“Oh my stars, are you hurt?” A feminine voice calls out to her, presumably partially responsible for what had just transpired. Shreya inwardly huffs to rein in her annoyance. It would be extremely unsightly for a Mistry to throw a tantrum. At times like these, she was thankful for those dry etiquette lessons her parents made her take when she was seven.

“I-It’s quite alright! I didn’t get hurt; just much too close and personal with this plant,” Shreya assures worried girl in her haughty ‘humble’ voice.

(Well, something had to channel her anger. The thick branch digging into her back was not helping keep her head cool.)

She could feel the girl’s slender hands firmly grip her arms and try to pull her up. It was gentle and slow, but jagged twigs were poking her everywhere, “Ow, ow, ow!”

The sounds of her distress halt the girl from pulling her, but she still kept her grip. Her voice sounded more apologetic, if it was even possible, “I am so, so sorry! I told Zeph it was stupid to try riding the broom like a skateboard, but he didn’t really care because he said it would look cool.”

Everything was so fast and panicked and ridiculous that Shreya couldn’t help the wild giggles that bubbled up her throat as she nodded, “I can definitely vouch for the fact that it was stupid.”

Shreya could hear the girl grin, “Nice to know someone sides with me.”

A comfortable lull settles over them before the girl clears her throat. “Maybe I could try magicking you out?”

She seemed capable enough, so Shreya finds that she doesn’t mind.

“OK, go for it.”

Flashes of green and brown lights from the Wood magick circle peek through the gaps between the leaves obscuring Shreya’s vision. Slowly, the twigs and leaves retract, revealing the face of her saviour as she leaned closer to pull her up by the shoulders.

And fuck: She was exactly Shreya’s type.

The blonde had her eyebrows furrowed in panicked worry as she gently picked off leaves that had gotten into Shreya’s hair and clothes. “Again, I am so sorry. I’ll be sure to give Zeph hell for dragging you into this.”

Shreya could feel the warmth creeping up into her cheeks and the tips of her ears. Her touch was so soothing. “It’s no problem. Is he going to be okay?”

The girl’s face scrunches up at the concern for Zeph. “Yes, probably… I think.” She opens one pale blue eye to find that Shreya was still looking at her, waiting for… what exactly?

A furious blush colours the girl’s pale cheeks.

“I… should probably go make sure he’s okay. Have a good day, miss!” The blonde turns at the direction Zeph went off and starts at a sprint. It was only then that Shreya sprung into action, hurriedly calling out to the blonde before she left, “M-my name’s Shreya! What’s your name?!”

The blonde doesn’t look back at her, but she yells, “Celestine! See you around!”

—

“So that’s why Aoi was so grumpy when we stepped out,” Aster chuckles as she sipped her sencha tea. They’d been friends for a while, as Shreya was a regular at Maison D’Yew, despite having people who could easily run the errands for her at Mistry manor. Whether it was just a Shreya thing, or an excuse to visit Aster, the wood nymph didn’t mind.

It was always nice to see one of her only friends.

“For what it’s worth, I apologised to Aoi the shrub before I went inside the shop,” Shreya offers. “And besides, it wasn’t all that terrible.” Her face warms at the memory of the girl — Celestine, she reminds herself — and the concern she showed for her. Shreya absently stares at the steam coming off her drink, remembering the blonde’s delicate blue eyes which were, fittingly enough, the colour of a strontium sulphate mineral, celestine.

Her parents must be familiar with Attuneless science. I should ask her next time.

Silence descends over the two girls as Shreya spaced out and Aster observed her. She blows at her tea again, before taking a sip. “So when are you going to see her again?”

Shreya almost spills her hot drink and shoots Aster an incredulous look. The green-skinned girl pauses with a blank look of her own and blinks, before giggling as she realises her friend’s thought process.

“For the last time, I can’t read your mind unless you’re a plant. I just know what you look like when you’re excited about something.”

Shreya grips her mug a little tighter, in an attempt to fight down her worsening blush. Aster continues to observe her reactions over her cup of tea. “Or someone, in this case.”

“… She was really cute, okay?”

Aster can’t fight off the grin on her face. Checkmate.

She reaches out a woody hand to pry off Shreya’s own from her grip on the hot cocoa and pats her friend’s manicured nails. They were painted a deep crimson today. “You should ask her out.”

Shreya sighs, “But what if she’s not into girls? I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.”

Aster tilts her head slightly and blinks. It wasn’t like the heiress to resign herself to the possibility that the girl she was interested in identified as heterosexual. “But what if she is? And more importantly,” Aster leans into her friend’s personal space to whisper in her ear.

“What if she’s into you?”

Shreya jerks back from her friend, clamping a hand over her ear. She shivers like she was just put under a shower of ice cold water. She narrows her eyes are the wood nymph as she tries to calm her breathing. “Why are you being so cheeky today, Ass?”

Aster simply shrugs with a pleasant smile. “One of us has to bring the cheek to move the conversation along. It’s obviously not going to be you, what with this smitten state you’re in.”

Shreya rolls her eyes, “Spare me; my cat’s sassier than you.”

Aster blinks, “You don’t have a cat.”

Shreya throws up her hands in exasperation, “That’s the point!”

The two continue to lock gazes in a contest of wills: Shreya with a piercing glare, and Aster with an amused sparkle. The competition was intense, as if the winner would have their argument proven right.

“Zeph, slow down! You might bump into someone again!”

Shreya’s attention immediately strays to the voice. Could it be…?

“No can do, Leblanc! Those croissants might get sold out!” A voice, presumably Zeph, answers as the front door of the café is slammed open by said male. “Hannah, my bro! Two croissants on the double!”

The short-haired blonde at the register rolls her eyes before shaking her head. “Alright, Denim. But sit your ass down, okay?”

Zeph flamboyantly stands at attention, before giving a dramatic salute. “Roger that, Pixie cut!”

“You’re being way too dramatic,” Celestine steps into the shop, putting her hair up in a ponytail, presumably to cool herself off from running after Zeph. Her hair tie is held between her lips, giving Shreya the perfect excuse to look at them.

Celestine seems to notice the stares directed at her, as her gaze connects with Shreya’s. Her eyes light up in recognition, and her hand immediately comes up to wave at the Fire-Att.

“Why hello, Shreya! Fancy seeing you again,” Celestine walks over to their table, then rocks back and forth on her heels as she stands.

Shreya brings up a had to wave back, feeling the clamminess that had suddenly developed. “Hi, Celestine. I’m usually here every Saturday with my friend Aster here.” She gestures to Aster, who was absolutely buzzing with excitement. The flowers in her hair were blooming.

“As she said, my name is Aster and it’s so wonderful to meet you, Celestine. Shreya was just telling me about the incident this morning with my Hydrangea macrophylla, Aoi.” The wood nymph managed to get up from her seat and move towards Celestine within that sentence to grasp and shake the girl’s pale hand with her pliant fingers. “He’s thankful for your wood magick because it fixed the branches Shreya broke when she fell into him.”

Celestine draws a blank look, before looking over to Shreya for help. The heiress simply nods, but what does that even mean? She decides that it’s better to play along. “Well, he’s very welcome. I didn’t get the chance to tell him that his flowers were a very beautiful shade of blue.”

“Honestly, Aster, how many times do I have to apologise?” Shreya complains from her seat on the table.

Aster grins at Celestine’s response while pointedly ignoring Shreya, “I’ll be sure he gets the message.” She stares meaningfully into the confused blonde’s eyes, bringing up a hand to hover over the other girl’s cheek. Celestine can feel the coolness of her skin, a plant-like material that felt much like the stem of a flower. Her eyes suddenly darken into a tar-black, seeping into the veins of her translucent skin, “It’s not often that you find humans — Attuned, especially — who care as much for plants.”

Sensing the newcomer’s shock and exponentially growing discomfort, Shreya interrupts. “Hey, uhm, Celestine, would you guys like to sit with us?”

And just as suddenly, Aster is back from her Branching, “That’s a wonderful idea!” She moves to pull out the chair next to Shreya (and if it ends up skewed a little too close to her friend’s seat, well, Aster doesn’t know anything about that).

“I’ll go ahead and assist your friend there are the counter. It seems like he’s having a bit of trouble,” Aster points to where Zeph is gesturing wildly in a conversation with Hannah (aka Pixie cut), who was managing the counter. “Don’t eat her up while I’m gone,” she grins at Shreya, who blushed at the insinuation, but kept her cool this time.

She fires back with a grin of her own.

“I make no promises.”

––

#playchoices #choices #the elementalists #te #shreya mistry #aster #te aster #zeph hernandez #zephyr hernandez #shreya x mc #mc x shreya #wilwcshaf

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mentalanalyzer · 6 years

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Unadulterated Uncensored Bigotry

Maybe it’s because I’m tired, maybe it’s because I’m pissed at the world around me, but this has been on my mind for quite some time. Does your ethnicity define you? Are they ingrained in your genes? Nature vs. Nurture? While I find many parts of my personality are due to the American environment I have been brought up in, there are aspects of my personality, that I only see in Persians, despite the lack of that upbringing. Aspects that I only see shared amongst those back in Iran. How could have such aspects of my personality if I’ve never been exposed to it? And that brings me to the topic of the day. Profiling.

This is for me, my ideas, this page is seen by me (I don’t even know why I get followers when I post once in a blue moon). I will not use politically correct terminology, because my terminology comes from a universal language, and that is the fact people are defined by their appearance. Black is black, not african american. Everyone in the world calls African Americans black people. Most consider Asians almond eyed people. This is how people are defined. I will be using generalization and stereotypes, and yes there are exceptions to everything, but generalization exist for a reason. Observations are not inherently racist, unless used as such. I have nothing against races of people, there are aspects of each culture I dislike and like. However, as stated before, people do seem to be potentially defined genetically by their culture. Without further ado.

We shall start with Persians. Never have I met a group of individuals so arrogant with such a lack of humility. They are smart, crafty, intelligent, even attractive and physically fit. And they know it. And yet, we always fall. Because we are always arrogant, always thinking we’re better than everyone. We have no sense of humility, doing whatever we want with no regards to others and the consequences. Our society always rises because of our innate abilities, but always falls due to the flaws inherent in our personality. Our women, vain. They also have intelligence, and beauty, and they know it. Never have I met a group more vain than Persian women. Always striving to better than other women, insecurity rampant, and always jealous. Persian women have the most potential in all races of women, and yet I despise them the most out of all races of women. Their intelligence is rotted away with their obsession over looks. Their definition of power defined by their man. They are dominant, but become submissive as they are unable to do anything without their man. The women is battling her man, other women, and herself. A war on 3 fronts, is a war you cannot win. And it is for this reason, they always lose. The worst part is, Persians know this. This upsets me the most. They are aware of their arrogance and intelligence, and yet do nothing about. Like an alcoholic who refuses to quit.

Asians, smart crafty devils, with an absolute lack of compassion for other races and usually severe racism as well. Robots? Not quite. Robots would be indifferent, Asians are not indifferent. Similar to Persians in intelligence and their understanding of it, but without the arrogance. The feeling of superiority, masked by humility, by sub-conscious racism (giving them the benefit of the doubt). They’re quiet, and always make themselves seem less than they are, but are always planning to best their competition. Drive and determination, but with a flawed premise. No love to bring others up with them, but rather leave everyone in the dust. To use the common man for self use, and make sure he doesn’t get to the same level. A comrade has no meaning. The women are the same, but their disdain for others is even worse. The perfect counter-part as they support and go hand in hand with their man. However, often times, they find themselves weak against their man. They are driven and determined, but as soon as they find an Asian man who stands to oppose them, they crumble. As if admitting superiority. See that’s the entire problem here with Asians, the concept of superiority. Persians are always brought down by our stupidity induced by our arrogance, but Asians always see themselves as superior as above. As soon as that image is crushed, they crumble. As if being below anyone is the realization of failure. This is what I mean by a flawed premise.

Black people. Incredibly emotional, and lazy. Quick to anger, rash, lashes out easily. Uses great effort to build something, only to quickly destroy it. Hardworker...and yet I said lazy? Works hard, but not smart. Not that they can’t, just that they don’t want to. Life is hard, and yet if it’s simple, it’s not too bad. Yet complains that it’s not better, that they want it to be better, and yet doesn’t want to put the effort to make it better. Living in dreams, but never wants to make them a reality. An uphill battle that they can fight, but just that they don’t want to. Let someone else fight it for them, let them reap the rewards. Only fighting when they become emotional, but fighting out of anger, is a short fight. The fuse is only so long, and after it burns, back to mediocrity. Mediocrity isn’t a problem, if they didn’t find it a problem. Like a slouched spine. Works hard to keep you upright, but never quite does the job right. The women are similar to the women. Unsuprisingly, the women actually have more drive than the men. A culture so driven by emotions, it makes sense that the gender with more emotion is more driven. Dominant, aggressive, demanding....yet with all things extreme, easily broken. Unlike Persians with it being a fight against others and their own insecurities, and Asians with it being a fight against superiority and intelligence, with black people, it’s the fight of emotions. Don’t attack a black womens confidence or intelligence, attack her heart. That’s the walls weak point.

Arabians, all the bravado of Persians, with none of the attributes. Take the arrogance of Persians, and take away the craft and intelligence, and you get Arabians. There is a difference though, see Persians arrogance is against everyone, including fellow Persians. This causes conflict amongst Persians, which is why we are always bringing ourselves down. Arabians create a heirachy, with arrogance designated towards others that are not Arabian. Targeted arrogance you might say. A shared ideology and common belief, is all it takes to becomes uneasy friends with Arabians. You are part of the “cool kids table” now as they say. They have no superior quality outside of numbers and co-operations (which may be a quality in and of itself). One of the most unified cultures out there. This is what makes extremism so likely however. A unification of simple ideals is all that is needed to make one part of the cool kids and having disdain and arrogance towards everyone else. But who defines the cool kids? This is the infighting for Arabians, and makes it so they always form unified groups fighting unified groups; whereas for Persians it’s always a free for all. The women are basically the same. Lack of intelligence, lack of looks, and yet vain and demanding. Inferior in every way to Persian women. I’d feel bad for their conditions, if it wasn’t the fact that they treat the men just as badly as the men treat the women. They’re submissive state is only due to the fear induced by the mens aggression. Against any other physically submissive group, they would dominate. There are other cultures with men physically dominant (like black men), but they only tolerate Arabian men.

Indians. What is there to say? Racist, sexist, aggressive but weak? Out of all the groups, Indian men are the most sexist and treat women the worst. They make Arabian men look like angels. They have an inferiority complex, that they take out on the weaker groups due to lacking the balls to take someone on their own size. Their cowardness is unmatched in the world. Like the Asians, they too have a heirachy, and they strive to be the top. Unlike Asians though, they have compassion, and guilt. They will screw you over to get to the top, but they will feel bad about it (doesn’t mean they’ll do anything about it). Like Asians, they are quiet, but not out of disdain and contempt, but out of fear. They don’t bring themselves down like Asians (strategic), but rather only see themselves as lower due to the inferiority complex. This doesn’t mean they lack drive however, as they will still compete to be the top of their heirachy. Take the intelligence of Persians, but without the arrogance, and add the heart the Asians are missing, and you get Indians. Indian women on the other hand, are incredibly racist. The potential to be smart, but kept ignorant by their Indian men. Demanding, aggressive, insulting. Whereas Arabian women are physically abusive, Indian women are mentally abusive. They are like a peach, soft on the outside, but hard on the inside.

Finally....the white man. Individualism as an ethnicity. Congregation by like minds for a greater purpose, but for everyone else below them, they are tools. The white man will not come above others like Asians, but will bring others down below him. The white man doesn’t look to live like the black man, or to congregate like the Arabians, or look to fullfill a superiority complex like the Asians, or to fight off an inferiority complex either. The white man looks to control for the aim of bettering his life. Arrogant, but aware enough of that arrogance to curb it to the point it is still deterimental, but not as severe as Persians. As for the women, they are used as tools just as everyone else for the white man. The women are emotional, ignorant, arrogant, with little drive and purpose outside of be the useful tool of the white man. A blanks slate....literally. Easily influenced and written, by the white man, or other cultures. This makes it so the white women is able to congregate more easily with other cultures; if the other cultures racism allows.

Now, this may all appear negative, and it may appear I just hate all cultures, but that is just not the case. As is with everything, each culture has it’s positives and negatives.

Persians have so much potential. Their men are smart, intelligent, and can become experts in any field (as many are). Their women have the most potential out of any group. Looks and brains, can’t beat them. Asians are also smart and intelligent, always raising the bar, always increasing the competition. The women as well. Smart and determined, but humble and quiet. As long as they are empowered, they can achieve just as much if not more than the man can. Everyone can learn from black people. From all the groups, I love being in the company of this group the most. They have....soul.. would be the best way to put it. They are what it means to be human, to express yourself, and to live. Arabians demonstrate the power of Unity and tolerance. With their empire being one of the most peaceful and prosperious for it’s residents. The ability to set the petty aside and focus on the main ideals that unite all of us. Their women demonstrate how despite being oppressed and put down, you can always keep that drive and determination to be better. That no one can stop you. Indians are the nicest people in existence. Bettering their neighbor, and always trying to live with love and compassion. Their women are in fact the reasons this is the case, with mothers who teach the importance of loving oneself and ones neighbors. The white man, the centerpiece of all of this. Having the potential to unify all the groups, and have them cordially work with one another. While Persian woman are born with the most potential, white women are designed with the most potential in mind. The blank slate, combined with beauty and grace, enables them to create their own personality, and to be influenced by other cultures. Allowed to fluorish on their own, the white woman is one of the purest in all the groups.

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frankthomas090-blog · 7 years

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abby winter yoga - The New Angle On Abby Winters Lesbian Porn Just Released

In town for a bit on business, he wants to have some casual fun. 5 inches and THICK- his emphasis. Hes at the top end of length for my preference, but self describing it as thick got my attention. Sometimes theres just an instant connection or chemistry, drawing you in so fast with a new person you just kind of dance around the usual screening process.

Described his cock as 7. Average height, better than average build, green eyes. Hes my age, 31, but with the right combination of personality and body- I can look past it. Gimme that thick dick. This Ginger was respectful and straight to the point from the get-go on Plenty of Fish. Hes former Army- he had a pic up in his dress uniform. He sends me his number, we text briefly, and make the plan to meet that same day.

I appreciated his ability to be direct without being rude or vulgar. I like em young and hung! Also, I give it a 95% hes well endowed- orange is the new Black. At no point did he ask for nudes, or ask endless intimate questions- I give it a 50/50 chance of being a satisfactory encounter given our lack of communication beforehand, but I cant resist a Ginger to save my life.

He passed with flying colors. Im telling you, this isnt rocket science. I feel my lady business respond immediately. In our very brief texting we went over our Dos and Donts, as well as both agreeing we like aggressive AND passionate sex. Dont ever forget that.

The way hes kissing me I can already tell this will likely be a very good encounter. " Its early afternoon, what a great way to spend it. Upon his arrival I am freshly showered, bed is made, and Im wearing t-shirt that says "MEETS OR EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS. He sits next to me, we awkwardly exchange hellos, and then he moves right in to kissing me. Not overly eager, not sloppy, makes you want it right meow.

Hes not pushing my body down while shoving his tongue down my throat. He starts lifting up my shirt after pawing me and groping for the goodies- having discovered my nipples are pierced and briefly sucking them, its time for layers to come off.

He peels his layers off as Im taking mine off and comes right back to mauling me so expertly I couldnt resist. Hes kissing me like hes excited to see me, and hes real good at it. Hes maneuvering me onto my back while he takes a top position.

Moving his head lower he pulls my panties off but with such reckless abandon theyre still on my left leg. Good kissers are also known to be good lovers, from my observation. Youre taking your clothes off, too. I dont recognize the alphabet hes writing, maybe its Spanish.

The moment he kisses my thighs its all over. His eagerness to put his mouth on my slit is palpable. He didnt just dive face first into my nonsense salad- first he ran his tongue up my outer labia on both sides and it felt soft and gentle and GIVE ME MORE. Fuck God sounds totally different when Im cumming and yelling nonsense. Right around now is where I learned Im actually bilingual, but whatever language I was stuttering out can only be whispered or shouted; theres no in between.

Oh my god hes licking my asshole- I have sex Tourettes. Do you think Jesus and God can tell youre not swearing AT them? he pushes my legs up and licks up and down, then just down. I can barely take it, stretched to maximum capacity for comfort, and even then hes mildly uncomfortably large. And it consists mostly of very short, hostile sounding 4 letter words.

DONT STOP, DONT STOP, DONT STOP. Once he was done tracing and teasing I felt the warm, wet touch of his whole mouth open around my clitoris, moving his tongue in ways I cant imagine or describe. Holding my body close to his and pushing his hips up into me, my limbs instinctively wrap around him like a slutty octopus. His length is perfectly spot on- any longer and he just wouldve www.abby winters.com been too much.

GOD DAMN YOU HAVE A BIG DICK. Pushing my limits for size, I question if my lungs have enough room to inflate fully while hes all the way inside. Id put him right around 7 inches in length, my preference being 6.

With my pelvis lifted to the right level, hed shove his tongue in me as my insides start to contract with the orgasm. Literally cumming on his tongue. For sure hes wearing the biggest condom commercially manufactured, or a trash bag. My hips would buck but his arms would find their way around them and hold them in place, while my legs stretched upward trying to walk on the ceiling. We didnt transition out of missionary, he sat up and spread my legs wide while plunging into me with force and conviction.

He rolls on a condom and pushes himself inside me- my eyes rolled back so far I saw memories from my childhood. I sound maybe like a dying rabbit as my fingers pull his short hair and hold his head firmly in place. I didnt keep count, I was much too busy screaming his praises to the Gods.

He gets his and we collapse away from each other. As soon as I begin to cum, back go the legs, down goes the head, and hed ride my climax on his face. When I would start to climax, hed withdraw quickly and push my legs up around my head. He puts his underwear back on and Im guessing hes leaving now, sad times, but then he hops back onto the bed and I take the opportunity to snuggle up into his armpit and touch on his body while I bask in the afterglow.

He does this for every single orgasm. Im wrapped around him and mostly content. I cant get my mouth around it right, my hand doesnt wrap around it. Its awkward to handle, do I need a license? I feel like my certs are out of date because this newfangled cocktraption is just outside of my scope of experience.

Good Lord, who taught you to do that? I gift him my mouth because hes more than earned it. I could definitely go for more, but hes not some 20-something with endless stamina. He pounds away at me from different positions, I like him behind me because I like his stroke and how he braces himself by holding my hips down. Clearly he gets most of his satisfaction from pleasing his lady.

Im not going to argue, and somebody has been listening to my thoughts and dreams again because this man was made in a fucking lab just for me. The sun goes down around 4pm right now so thats not a good indicator either. what even is time, man. Im amused I come across that way- Im all about those afterglow cuddles.

Between our rounds we break for cuddles and snuggles- he confesses he assumed, from my profile on PoF, that he was to go after the first round and I wasnt much for affection or cuddling afterward. He enjoys the cuddles too, and doesnt like to just leave after a hookup unless thats her preference. Please me you thick dick Georgia peach!

Take care of your partner after you fuck them. He enjoys my head game but it just makes him want to fuck me. He gets off twice more and I have no idea how much time has passed. HOLD MEEEEEEEEEEE, pet my hair and tell me Im pretty. Fool I dont get to round 3 very often with men in their supposed prime, so whos more thrilled! Hes an intuitive partner and he reads my cues very well, plus he just wants to bring me all the pleasure.

Apparently he doesnt get to round 3 very often, and hes kind of thrilled about it. His size is intimidating and hes more shaped for vaginal feel goods. I like how he lays it down, and I like anal with the right partner. He admits hes never been able to have anal successfully, and I can understand why.

The way hes shaped, getting the head in is not the hard part- he gest wider towards the middle and base, like a fucking road cone. I dont doubt that hell follow my lead and respect my signals if things get too intense. The last time things started heating up Im on my belly and hes pressing the head of his monster cock on my asshole- Im doing word problems in my head about the likelihood of this being a good idea or not.

He apologizes for cumming too soon- I had to hold back my school girl giggle. He flipped me over and fucked me hard up until I told him to say my magic words. What a dear, sweet lover. He actually thought he owed me an apology after our FOURTH consecutive romp. Tell me you love fucking me. Ive got shit to do as well. 10/10 would fuck again.

I tell him point-blank Id like to see him again before he leaves, he happily agrees. We were unable to make it happen, he was just too big and we didnt do enough warmup, but I took about half of him before tapping out. He texts me asking what my plans are for the evening, as hed like abby winters galleries to grab a couple of beers and a late dinner.

Fast forward 24 hours. When posed with options like this, I always ask WHY NOT BOTH? I tell him Im going to shower and meet him at the restaurant bar near his hotel, he instructs me to bring my lube. I dont really do compromises. Or I could come over to his hotel room after and he could just fuck my brains out all night.

Maybe Id like to join him? In the time it took me to excitedly shower and keelhaul the warts off my body, my phone starts showing notifications of other interested men folk. The words fall out of his mouth and he explodes seconds later, to his own surprise. why end with a OR when theres always an AND?

He tells me I cant miss him at the restaurant bar- hes wearing a cowboy hat. (You thought that hyperlink went to the movie reference, didntcha? CANT TALK NOW, THICKEST DICK EVER WANTS TO TAKE ME TO POUND TOWN! Oh goody, I know what Im wearing later. Can honestly say hes a good one.

Test me, Ive got true grit. ) The company was great, hes fun to talk to. Cleaned up, its time for him to go he has things to do. As were leaving I ask how many Magnum XL condoms he has- he says 4. He confesses he doesnt generally have his lady spend the night because hes very affectionate and waking up next to someone hes spent the better part of the night pleasing, can lead to him having feelings.

We need to buy more, STAT. I feel like a teenager again. We talk about our kids, divorce, he tells me about his previous military experience, and what hes doing now. Rolling into Wal-Mart at that hour, with giant shit-eating grins on our faces, buying only condoms.

You think youre big, you aint big until you must have custom condoms. I get what youre saying, were gonna fool around and then I gotta GTFO. Sexy Ginger man with a good head on his shoulders and giant cock, somebody please snatch this man up quick haha or dont, and let him keep sharing that beautiful endowment with all the ladies.

Back to the hotel room, we barely make it to the bed and hes on me. Details from here are fuzzy, but he went down for ages and we fucked around in every position. Dont get it twisted; theres approximately 10 million condoms in my purse, but they wouldnt fit him. Remember, if youre hard to size on either end of the spectrum theres a UK company called TheyFit that you can enter your measurements into and theyll get you fitted with one of their 66 sizes.

We took a smoke break before trying www.abby winters yoga abby winters.com (linked site) again, and he tells me hes half Mexican. This perfect Ginger man is also a beaner. He was made just for me. While he was behind me licking and sucking my clit, shoving his tongue inside my pussy and my asshole, I hear the top of the lube bottle click. At some point I wore his Stetson when we come back inside, naked.

He positions himself at the backdoor and gently adds pressure until I whimper or tense up. Working together slowly, gently, following my vocal cues I take him to the base. Pushed to the hilt we pause. Its more than mildly uncomfortable, but if we take it slow itll feel great.

I can feel it cold and slippery, then hear him stroking it on himself. I swear to Kylie Minogue I cant make this stuff up. Im a little drunk- 3 drinks on a mostly empty stomach, Ill sit on your lap and call you Daddy if you want. He picks up the pace, we start talking dirty to each other. I have not been quiet at all during any of this, but now Im incapable of controlling the primal animal noises Im bleating into the bedding.

He was having some performance issues but was bound and determined to make sure I enjoyed our time as much as possible. I can feel him shaking a bit, hes going to cum soon. Its late, the booze and orgasms are sedating me.

Hes down close on me, wrapping his big hands around mine, entwining our fingers, crossing arms under my chin as he grinds into me. I tell him to withdraw slowly. I wake up hazily to roll over and his arms find their way around me again, hes a perfect big spoon. After several loud, amazing orgasms, he gets down close and pushes himself inside me all at once.

Rocking into me Im wrapped around him in my koala hug. Hes holding me and Im lost in it. I awake fully to him sliding down the bed, tossing my right leg over and burying his face in my morning pussy. Digging my fingers into his back and pulling his short hair, I dont want it to end. Im cold and reach for a sheet, he covers us immediately and Im back out like a light.

He slows down but hes plunging into me with the kind of force and quivering body that lets me know its now. Pushing my skirt up, pulling my panties to the side, he takes my box in his mouth and I hold on for dear life, staring up at the mirrored ceiling I get to watch myself almost cum in his mouth.

Morning sex was more passionate, and a bit briefer. Hes even kissing me with my dragon breath. We havent even hit the floor button yet. When we get to the ground floor we smoke together outside, recap our enjoyment with each other. My back hurts from how he so violently throws my legs back to eat my pussy while Im cumming, both my pussy and asshole are recovering from their respective stretching and beating, and Im walking on a broken toe.

We get dressed together, and he goes to walk me out but as soon as the elevator door closed he dropped to his knees. He tells me after two days with me, he wont be able to fuck for a week. God damn that was good. He reaches up, hits L, and continues his works. 10/10 would fuck any time. I am completely satisfied. This will happen one week from now, when he has free time again.

I scamper home to sit on frozen bags of peas, pound water, and cuddle all my pillows. tt/2i9A4Cy /u/DDfnord Link is directly to this story http://ift. This entry on my sex blog has hyperlinks, if youd like to see it in full I write on WordPress and the blog name is All The Dicks.

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