#Concourse Club

[yourstrulytjmcd-blog]

A Rooftop Experience - Elevated

Rooftop bar and dining. A Dining Out Jersey experience!

Dining Out Jersey – Concourse Club’s glamour, high quality cocktails and leisurely dining. …Upon crossing the threshold of Concourse Club on the top floor, you are immediately embraced by the subdued earthy colors brought to life by warm lighting and natural textures. This retro rooftop bar is styled in 1950-1960’s decor. The 1950’s were all about embracing comfort, so the club has cozy seating…

[alpha-mag-media]

Gil de Ferran dead at 56: Indianapolis 500 winner dies while racing with son at The Concourse Club in Florida | 3437HWQ | 2023-12-31 10:08:01 | December 31, 2023 at 11:08AM

Gil de Ferran dead at 56: Indianapolis 500 winner dies while racing with son at The Concourse Club in Florida | 3437HWQ | 2023-12-31 10:08:01 Read More … Check full articles at Source: ALPHA MAG

[ajl1963]

Deco Doings - May, 2023

Spring by William Welsh, 1930. Image from Pinterest. Plattsburgh State Art Museum Origins: The Evolution of an Artist & His Craft, Selections from the Rockwell Kent Collection (In Person Event)      Tuesday, November 8, 2022 – Friday, August, 11, 2023, 235 Myers Fine Arts, 101 Broad Street, Plattsburgh, NY. Museum Hours: Tuesday – Sunday Noon – 4:00 PM (EDT).   New York Adventure Club Temple…

[biffhofosho]

A Shot Through the Heart

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, natch.

Word Count: 17k (yeah, you read that right >.>)

Pairing: Hyungwon x OC

Trope: Anonymous sex, strangers to lovers

Synopsis: “You can’t catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton.”

The Vibe: Hopeless romantic OC meets shameless Miami Beach party, sweet and sincere Chae Hyungwon (who’s also a bit of a pathetic loser sometimes, and I love that about him, so that’s here also), probably cringey meet-cute, definitely cringey rom-com title because obvious cheesy rom-com overtones, well-meaning friends who actually have no clue what they’re talking about, body shots, stepping out of one’s comfort zone, instant chemistry, trying (and failing) to keep things casual, unprotected (not-so) anonymous sex (thank you, dramatic irony), far too romantic for what it’s supposed to be, the usual unrealistic rom-com expectations, cute ending because the author is also a hopeless romantic

A/N: Continuing the Wonnie love agenda since no one else wants to do it for me. This was most definitely for me because I’m hyper-obsessive about Hyungwon’s every charming feature and the Unseen promotion as a whole, but I hope you enjoy it, too.

You are here for fun.

As Gwen danced from foot to foot in the raucous line, she repeated the words over and over.

You are here for fun.

With searing clarity, she could hear her roommate Marie as though they were still in the car on their long drive down from New Jersey.

“It’s Miami, okay? You’re not going for a relationship. You are here for fun. Grind up against random hot guys. Make out with a stranger. I love you, but be a little fucking unpredictable for a change. Whatever, just no crushes because, I swear to god, if you even say to me, ‘He’s really sweet, Marie! I could see myself going out with him!’, I will throw up. And if the words ‘boyfriend material’ come out of your mouth, then so help me,I’m leaving your ass in Florida.”

You are here for fun.

She couldn’t even fault her friend for the rant. Gwen formed attachments, real and imagined. Hell, she was about to celebrate her 11th anniversary of fake marriage to Dylan O’Brien even though she hadn’t watched anything with him in it in years. Almost every man she’d ever gone on a date with had been followed with a relationship that left a crater of ruinous magnitude. It drove perennial bachelorette Marie crazy considering she was always the one left behind to rip the empty cookie dough tub from her roommate’s death grip and hazmat the ground zero of all the balled-up tissues.

After the latest of Gwen’s embarrassingly short-lived “sure-thing” relationships blew up spectacularly in her face, her friend had taken her under her wing and planned to show her once and for all “how to put distance between your heart and your lady parts.”

“Let’s have a little fun at men’s expense,” Marie had proposed when she’d flaunted the extravagant hotel deal she’d scored in Gwen’s face.

Now a month later, and here they were, three nights in at a palatial hotel on Miami Beach with a pulsing club in its heart and a raucous party that trickled out onto its grand pool concourse.

Their deal had been a simple one. In exchange for saying “yes” to three bullet points on her roommate’s “good time list,” Marie would pay for the hotel rooms for their bachelorette weekend. The only other stipulation on top of that was absolutely, positively no relationships.

So far, Gwen had passed with flying colors. She’d let a man buy her a drink at the hotel bar, and she’d danced with a few strangers, all without a hint of attachment. The guys were an eclectic mix of hot that had Marie rubbing her hands together and muttering “Taste the rainbow” on ludicrous repeat, but that’s all they were—eye candy. Gwen could compartmentalize that. Her friend’s plan was working. She’d felt beautiful. She’d felt powerful. She’d felt in control of her heart for once. She was ready to conquer one last, more challenging bullet point.

“You’re young, you’re hot, but you’re too damn romantic,” Marie had scolded as she’d helped her friend accessorize before heading down for the night. “Tonight, remember your mantra. You’re here to have fun. You’re not going to invent a backstory for everyone you meet. It’s okay to be a little superficial sometimes.”

“I’m doing pretty good, aren’t I?”

“Killing it, in fact,” the spicy brunette agreed.

“Damnit, I’m still so nervous every time though,” Gwen admitted as Marie had smoothed out her friend’s blonde beachy waves.

“Yeah, I know, babe, which is why I keep urging you to dip your toe instead of deep-ending everything. Contrary to what your Nora Ephron-mutated heart tells you, ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the guys you meet aren’t marriage material for Gwen Goodwin.”

“What about the one who is?”

Marie bent down and kissed her friend’s cheek. “I don’t know, but I promise you this. You didn’t meet him last night, and you’re not going to meet him tonight.”

So it had all led up to this bullet point—a ridiculous line for body shots poolside.

“Come on, you picked the best one on the list! It’s harmless,” Marie had laughed as she escorted her friend into the line. “You can’t catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton. Now, I'm going to go hit on that guy over there, and, god willing, have his beautiful, obscene mouth on mine for a bit, and you’re going to spin the roulette wheel of hot and put your beautiful, obscene mouth on someone’s sexy stomach. No regrets?”

“No regrets,” Gwen agreed.

“I’ll have my eye on you, babe. If you need me, text me,” she said as she flashed her smartwatch at Gwen.

“Will do.”

“Have fun! Love you!”

“Good luck!”

Gwen watched as Marie zig-zagged through several clusters of partygoers until she reached her target, a rather burly guy with stupendous shoulders accentuated by a compression tee. Gwen couldn’t see the guy’s face, but she could see her friend’s, and it was lit up with a smile the likes of which she had never seen from the girl. She kept her fingers crossed that things would pan out as her friend hoped.

Meanwhile, Gwen turned back to her line where the shot-takers waited alongside the line of human shot glasses. She was at least twenty people back from the table, so there was no way to know with whom she might be paired. There were just as many women in the shot glass line as there were men, all of them attractive at unprecedented levels. She was grateful she was in the line she’d chosen because she didn’t think she could survive someone of their sexiness putting their mouths on her stomach.

That’s when her eyes fell on him, the shot glass with the round face and flushed lips. He was tall and slender, dressed unassumingly for someone in his decidedly sexier line. He wore a plain black tee and a pair of slim fit jeans on legs that seemed double the length of the rest of him. Other than a few silver rings on his spindly fingers, his only accessory was a pair of now-pointless sunglasses sitting on top of his fluffy dark hair. There was nothing flashy about the guy, yet she somehow wished she had a pair of her own sunglasses just to look at him.

His toned arms were stacked loosely over a wide chest that pulled the tee at his shoulders. Pretty as he was, the man didn’t talk to a soul; if he knew any of the people around him, he didn’t let on. Instead, those big, inquisitive eyes busied themselves scanning the party like a prairie dog.

He looked at her suddenly then, and the weight of his attention made Gwen’s ankle give out in her stupid high heels. She wobbled back with a yelp, but, luckily, the girl behind her caught her elbow and helped her regain her balance.

“You all right?” the girl asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gwen mumbled along with an apology and her thanks.

“Walk much?” said some generic bro a few people back in line, and it felt like everyone at the party was looking at her.

Humiliated, Gwen risked a glance over at the shot glass, but he seemed to be the only one who had turned back, though she couldn’t help but think that a proud smile tugged at his lips.

She would give just about anything for her pajamas and a romantic comedy right about now. She contemplated slipping out of line and heading back to her room, but she’d have to clear it with Marie first because she didn’t want to just leave her friend in such a big crowd of strangers, so instead, she stayed the course with plans of making a hasty retreat right after.

As the EDM pulsed across the party deck and the palm trees shimmied overhead in the steady sea breeze, the lines dwindled quicker than she ever expected.

And of course, it was becoming abundantly clear that, short of someone passing out or running off at the last possible second, Gwen was going to be lapping tequila from the navel of the pretty boy with the prettier smile.

When there was just one couple left ahead of them, she thought about offering her spot to the nice girl behind her as a thank you. The ponytailed babe behind the pretty boy sported a crop top and a great set of abs, so technically, it would still be fun for Gwen without the creeping dread, but before she could ask the girl behind her to switch places, she heard the call from the bottle girl.

“Next!”

With a lump in her throat, Gwen approached the table alongside the man in the black shirt. He nodded to the girl behind the table and then to Gwen.

“Hey.”

“H-hey,” she said.

The bottle girl continued all business as she had that night, though she did offer the man a smile she did not offer Gwen.

While she paid for her shot, he climbed onto the bar counter easily and shimmied himself into the most comfortable position the hardwood would allow.

Everyone waited for the hem of his shirt to reveal his stomach, but it didn’t. Instead, he looked to Gwen.

“You want it, you have to do it,” he said with a toothy grin as his eyes flicked to his clothed torso.

Gwen glared at his stomach and then at his face. “Excuse me?”

He laughed and waved in surrender. “I’m kidding, just kidding!”

But it was now patently clear he knew he’d been the reason she’d stumbled, and she wasn’t going to let him halt her momentum.

You are here for fun.

Finally, the attendant grew too annoyed to keep her mouth shut and griped, “If you’re not going to take the shot, I have to—”

“Okay, okay, I’m doing it,” Gwen insisted, though she’d meant it more for her shot glass than her bartender.

With a glower at the long man stretched out before her, she pushed his shoulder back so he flattened out on the table, the grin still playing at his luscious lips finally disappearing with her determination. Her fingers curled around the hem of the t-shirt resting far too near the apex of his thighs, and, slowly, she pushed it up his abdomen. She could have just yanked it up, but she wanted to punish him for his teasing as much as she wanted to savor the reveal, so she let her palm drag across the yielding skin of his stomach.

A swath of flawless flesh appeared beneath her, tensing instinctively along the path her hand had set. Like the rest of his features, it was soft and inviting. He didn’t have washboard abs like many of the men who’d showcased on the table already; instead, she found a narrow waist flaring broader and broader the higher she pushed the shirt up his chest. His freshly tanned skin featured the gentlest dips and smoothest waves of skin she’d ever seen. His navel was delicate, cute even, though she’d never considered a bellybutton particularly cute before. All of it made Gwen’s throat feel far too dry.

The bottle girl didn’t even try to hide the way she chewed her own lip, but she poured a shot of crystalline liquid into the appetizing little divot anyway. Gwen’s shot glass laughed, borderline giggled, at the sensation, sending a slender river of booze cascading over his naked waistline.

“Cold,” he confessed.

“You’re up,” the bottle girl said to Gwen with a bitterness she also didn’t try to hide.

Gwen nodded and stole a quick glance at the man’s face. He’d propped his head on his hands now so he could watch the show and grinned so hard she expected his laugh to follow any second.

Her brow wrinkled. If he was going to play games with her, then she could damn well return the favor. Gwen splayed her hand at the hem of his jeans, her fingers spread between the contrast of silken flesh and harsh denim. She bent over and pressed her bottom lip into the pouch of skin at the edge of his navel and closed her top lip around it to form a seal. She sucked quickly, a little of his skin suctioning between her lips.

The man gasped, and his hand clasped reflexively to the back of her head as she drained the last of the liquor from his navel. The urge to kiss his tummy overwhelmed, but Gwen fought it off, though she couldn’t quite stand up with his hand still in her hair. Instead, she rolled her head to the side and caught his eye. The motion surprised him, and he yanked his hand back.

Gwen stood up and licked every honeyed droplet of booze from her lips. He tried to sit up, too, but distracted by the trail of her tongue, his hand slipped in an errant splash, and he fell back onto his elbows. It was her turn to savor a proud smile.

“One more?” asked Gwen hopefully.

He didn’t hesitate. “Okay, sure.”

“Another shot please,” she said to the bottle girl, thrusting out her card.

“Sure,” said the other woman with a well-practiced smile. “See you shortly.”

“What?”

“You can buy another shot, but you’ve got to hop back in line.”

“But we’re already here?” Gwen noted with a poignant look at the man’s exposed stomach.

“Not how it works, sweetie. See you in a bit. Next!”

With a resigned sigh, Gwen rejoined the crowd. There was only a slim hope of being paired up with the same guy again, but not knowing what else to do, she followed the snaking line to the end only to notice the man was nowhere to be found.

Gwen looked for Marie, but the crowd had swelled as the night had worn on, and she couldn't find her friend anywhere. No doubt, the girl was twirling in some random hot guy’s arms somewhere in the thicket of dancers at the other end of the concourse, but Gwen didn’t really feel like braving all those sweaty bodies.

You are here for fun.

It had been fun, she realized, but it was so short-lived that now that it was over, she also realized how little fun the rest of the night had been in comparison. Rather than spoil Marie’s good time, too, Gwen made her way to a poolside recliner and sat down to people-watch.

There were hundreds of beautiful people here, not that that was a surprise; short of some place like Los Angeles, she wasn’t sure where there was a more concentrated percentage of objective hotness. Everyone rocked a beach-ready body, many still clad in their actual swimsuits, and thanks to the tropical air, they all smelled of a perfume of sunscreen, booze, and sweat. Laughter and cheers crescendoed around her as drinks were downed and the music pumped up. Tiny asses nestled in gyrating groins as limbs snaked up and down strangers’ bodies.

But as much as there was to see, the truth was the one person Gwen wanted to watch was gone.

Another ten minutes or so had passed with her eyes firmly fixed on the body shot lines, but her shot glass never reappeared, and she found herself so painfully far from the “fun” she was supposed to be having that when a new guy sat down beside her and started to chat, she decided to invent a new backstory of her own considering Marie had banned her from inventing them for bachelors she’d met.

“I only found out mid-way through the pregnancy that my cousin was having my fiancé’s baby. So I said ‘screw them all,’ packed my shit, and drove straight down here to start having some of my own fun for once,” proclaimed Gwen with a whip and toss of her hair over her shoulder.

“Heavy,” said the bearded man with a smug, approving nod next to her, and she snickered to herself at the anticipatory predatory flash in his eyes.

But her fun at the stranger’s expense was also short-lived when she heard over her shoulder, “That’s some story.”

Gwen swiveled on her chaise to find the lithe stranger from the body shot line holding a mostly empty bottle of tequila with a spout already stuffed in its neck.

“Oh, hey,” she fumbled. “You’re still here.”

“I am.”

An awkward silenced stretched between them as she scrambled to figure out which version of herself she was supposed to be presenting.

Miraculously, the bearded man saved her at the last second. “Is this your friend?”

“Best friend actually,” said her former shot glass, “here to make sure she has all the fun she wants.”

Knowing his window had closed, the bearded man nodded and faded back into the crowd without so much as a wave goodbye, not that Gwen had room to spare another second for him now that pretty boy had returned.

“Was any of that story true?” her handsome stranger asked.

Gwen shrugged. “The having fun part is true enough. The rest might have been part of said fun.”

He smiled gently, his cheeks two kissable meringues as he added, “Sorry about before.”

“For what?”

His eyes cast down her leggings to her feet. “Is your ankle okay?”

“Oh.” Gwen wrinkled her nose and protested weakly, “Hey, that wasn’t you, you know.”

“No, of course not.”

“It was these stupid heels. I’m more of a sandals girl. I’m just not used to wearing them.”

He nodded though he was clearly suppressing a laugh. “I see. So I’m off the hook?”

Gwen cocked her head in mock consideration as she eyed the bottle in his silver-clad hand. “That depends. How are you going to make up for exposing a very tragic girl after she thought she’d gotten away with it?”

One of those rings clanked emphatically against the glass, ringing even above the club music. “What about offering a second shot like you wanted?”

He waggled the bottle for effect, the liquid inside splintering the pulsing lights.

Gwen squinted at him. “How did you…?”

He brought his finger to his lips and bent down to her ear. Thanks to the blaring music, even this close, he nearly had to shout, “I stole it.”

“What a rebel.”

“Yeah, well, I’m really motivated.”

“Uh, okay, sure. I guess that’s fair.”

“Good, because I’m all about fair. Come on. I’ll find us somewhere where you can take it.”

The innuendo simmered between them until Gwen’s thirst had expanded beyond the restraints of mere drink.

“There’s a lounger right here?” she suggested as she looked at the chaise, but he shook his head.

“That would draw to much attention. I’m a rebel and thief now, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. How could I forget?”

“Maybe we can head out to the beach, or,” the stranger hedged slowly, “I have a room upstairs if you want?”

His tone was matter-of-fact, considerate even, yet sin infused his bottomless brown eyes. It was a proposition Gwen had never considered. She was a fall-in-love not a fall-in-bed kind of girl.

But.

She was not going to fall in love on this trip, and she had never seen a man who looked like this one.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she pretended to mull it over and shrugged a shoulder to sell the act, though there had only ever been one possible outcome the moment her eyes had met his.

“Maybe it’s better if we go upstairs… I mean, we don’t want them to lock you up and throw away the key.”

“I appreciate that,” he said with a smile that left little doubt how well he understood everything.

“Let me just make sure my friend is okay with it.”

He nodded, unfazed. “I’ll do the same.”

Both of them pulled out their phones, and Gwen sent a quick message to Marie.

When Gwen put away her phone, she found the man waiting with an expectant, squishy grin on his face.

“Is your friend all good?” he asked.

“All good. What about yours?”

He motioned through the crowd back toward the hotel, and as they walked, he said, “They’re all good. Turns out they all knew already. The friend who helped me distract the bartender told the rest of them anyway, which I should have figured, I guess.”

Gwen perked an eyebrow. “They knew when I didn’t, huh? You’re not just a rebel, but a cocky rebel.”

Her companion laughed and rubbed the back of his head in his chagrin. “Maybe I’m just more of a hopeful rebel. Or a lucky one seeing as I almost lost my chance.”

She laughed now, too. “Who? That guy? No way. I think I was just amusing myself since I was bored.”

“Bored? Here, I half-expected I’d find you back in the body shot line.”

“Well, I whole-hoped I’d find you back in it, too, but since you weren’t there, that poor guy had to hear a story I’m pretty sure I stole from a soap opera.”

Her companion smirked. “I guess that makes you a rebel and a thief, too.”

“I guess so.”

They chatted easily across the busy pool deck and all through the lobby, but the second the elevator doors closed them in alone together, the conversation clotted up. It was a long and mortifyingly unbroken trip to the twenty-second floor, and the only sounds were the shush-shush of the elevator and the dull thunk of the bottle as he tapped it against his thigh.

Suddenly, he cleared his throat. “Uh, kind of embarrassed to admit this, but it occurs to me I don’t know your name. I’m—”

“You know, let’s keep it that way for now, okay?” Gwen interrupted with a tight smile.

“Huh? Oh, sure, sure…” he agreed though he couldn’t have looked more floored.

“It's nothing personal. Actually, that’s sort of the point. I have a tendency to get carried away. It’s a long, boring story, ha. And a lot less colorful than my made-up ones.”

“I'm a good listener.”

“Yeah,” she said solemnly, “I can tell that about you. Which is definitely why I need to keep things firmly in the here and now.”

“Live in the moment, I can get behind that.”

“Cool.” Gwen turned hesitantly to him just as the doors to the elevator split wide. “So, is that okay with you? Because if it’s not, we’ll just toast to this super awkward elevator ride.”

The man motioned for her to go ahead of him into the hallway before he added, “I’m not the kind of guy to turn back.”

I can tell that, too… she thought resignedly.

He led Gwen down the chic hallway to his room, where she stopped short and pulled out her phone.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Just letting my friend know where I am.”

“That's smart,” he said with a nod. “I’m on notice now, huh?”

“You got that right, buddy.”

They shared a laugh, and again, Gwen was struck by how brightly the man’s face glowed and how engaging his laugh was. Another thought popped into her head just then.

“Speaking of...” she started as she raised her camera. “Smile?”

Without a trace of surprise or curiosity, he did, and it was so blinding, it threw off the exposure in her phone, which gave Gwen the perfect excuse to snap a few more.

“How did my mugshot come out?” he asked and craned his neck to steal a peek.

“You’re a matter of public record now, sir. But I imagine it will be the first mugshot to grace the cover of Vogue.”

“Nice.”

She stashed her phone without hitting send, with a small grin for her white lie. For some reason, Gwen couldn't bring herself to share him. But he didn't need to know that.

Meanwhile, the man fished his key card out of his too-tight jean pocket and ushered her inside. He took off his shoes as soon as he walked in, much to her relief, since it meant she could finally get out of her damn heels. When she looked back up, she was at a loss.

“Shit…”

His head whipped toward her, eyebrows pinched with concern. “Everything okay?”

“I mean… Your room is so much nicer than mine.”

He clutched his heart in mock relief before he said, “What’s your room like?”

“Not like this. Small and bayside. You have a balcony!”

“Oh, uh, yeah. It’s my friend’s bachelor party this weekend, so we all kind of went all out, I guess. You want to go out?”

“Hell yeah, I do!” Gwen squealed. She made a bee line past the enormous bed and whisked open the door.

The wind was stiffer twenty-two floors up, and it bombarded her skin, fresh and salty and a little sticky but uplifting. She breathed in deeply, a smile splitting her face. The half-moon shimmied across the Atlantic swells in time with the electronic beats filtering up from the party at the pool below. She couldn’t help herself—she waved at the partygoers even though they were far too small to see much this high up.

“Aw,” her companion said sweetly. “Waving to your friend?”

“Yeah,” replied Gwen with a blush. “Not that she’ll see me.”

He joined her in leaning on the railing and waving at his friends, too. When he looked back up, his smile shifted slightly, less silly and a lot sultrier. She cleared her throat lightly and headed back inside.

With her back to the huge bay windows, Gwen could finally take in the rest of the room. It was modern and cloaked in the same jeweled beach tones of her own, but it was much more spacious, with a desk and a sofa plus a pair of chairs, while, to the left behind a half-wall, the enormous bed stretched out beneath a large padded headboard.

With a tiny yelp, her companion scrambled over in a hurry to straighten the still-crumpled covers and even out the pillows.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he worked, “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like I make my bed on vacation. Or ever really.”

Gwen meant it, but that didn’t mean she could shake the undeniably sexy implication of those tossed sheet or the image of this beautiful man stretched out naked and languid in them.

Still, he dressed the bed as quickly as he could and turned around with a flushed face. Again, he mumbled, “Sorry.”

“No worries. Hey, do you care if I use your bathroom?”

“Sure, it’s right around there,” he replied, gesturing toward the other side of the bed.

It was really just an excuse to see how much fancier it was than her own, and it did not disappoint. Instead of just a shower stall, there was a huge walk-in surrounded by glass, and instantly, images of fogged windows with desperate hand smears flitted across her mind. Just around the corner was a deep jacuzzi tub that conjured just as many filthy thoughts.

This was progress, Gwen thought. Her libido was on overdrive, which meant she could safely put her heart in the backseat. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her waves had regrettably frizzed, and she’d sweated out a fair bit of makeup, but it did make her skin glow, even under the harsh LED lighting. After a quick freshen-up and a primp to make her chest is best perky self, she returned to find the man waiting in front of the main window, adjusting the tuck of his tee in his tiny waistline.

There was just something about him—his every gesture was sweet and sincere, completely without artifice. And just like that, her heart was threatening a comeback.

You are here for fun.

Gwen shuffled in with a short wave. “I think your bathroom might be as big as my hotel room.”

He grinned. “I think it’s bigger than my apartment honestly.”

“You mean you don’t live like a high roller every day?”

“Actually, I moonlight as a broke New Yorker.”

Oh shit, he’s not far from you, Gwennie…

“You’re ruining my fantasy of the millionaire playboy in town for a big business deal.”

“My apologies,” he joked with a bow.

“So, when’s the wedding?”

He cocked his head, and it was painfully cute. “The what?”

“Your friend’s wedding.”

“Oh, next month.”

“And the groom’s not going to be mad that you’ve abandoned him?”

The man smirked. “On the contrary. Pretty sure he’s looking for any excuse to get rid of me.”

“You really are public enemy number one, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, undisputed.”

As they came down from their laughter, Gwen realized how close they were standing. This close, those lips loomed like a full moon, and she basked in their plumpness. The heat between them brought the intoxicating tendrils of his cologne forward, a fresh brightness that matched his smile, though it occurred to her he may have stolen a moment to reapply it while she’d been in the bathroom. The thought made her swallow hard.

“You’re easy to talk to,” he confessed abruptly, and Gwen tensed all over.

You are here for fun.

“Even though we haven’t really talked about anything?” she retorted.

He shrugged one thick shoulder. “Maybe that’s why. I’m kind of a wallflower at parties. I mean, that whole body shot thing was just a dare from my friends anyway.”

“Mine was like that, too!” she blurted and immediately regretted it, the way he seemed to soften all over. It wasn’t just how gentle his already-round features looked, but he relaxed against the desk into a cool lean as his usually petal-shaped eyes widened with interest.

No backstories, Gwennie, she scolded herself. Put that distance between your heart and your lady parts!

“So that’s how it happens, huh?” she continued in a sultrier voice as her finger stroked the neck of the bottle. “You do one dare, and now, you’re a full-blown criminal mastermind?”

His voice had dropped, too, along with his eyelids. “Looks that way.”

“Are you a liar, too?”

“No! What?”

She chuckled and waved the bottle between them. “What about my second shot?”

“Oh, you were serious?”

Gwen gaped at him. “Aren’t you the one who stole the tequila?”

“That was just so I had an excuse to talk to you again.”

Oh no… He was painfully, unforgivably, patently cute. Gwen could practically hear Marie threatening to leave her in Florida.

“Ah,” she said to deflect, “so you did lure me here with empty promises.”

“No! I—"

“I’m teasing,” she assured, and as she studied his saucer eyes, she risked resting a hand on his bicep, which she had to stop herself from just straight up groping when she felt the twitching muscle beneath.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just… I never do stuff like this.”

“Like what? We haven’t done anything.” He looked helplessly at her, and Gwen chuckled again. “Sorry, still teasing. When I'm awkward, I make awkward jokes. I've never done anything like this either.”

“Like what?” he echoed, and they shared a tight smile, but it vanished when he looked at her much softer this time. “Seriously, I don't expect anything.”

You can't catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton…

“I know, but I do.” Gwen swished the bottle back and forth, and he offered what she could only type as a giggle.

“You’re right, you’re right. So, um, how do you want to…?”

He spun in a circle until he nearly made himself dizzy, and she grabbed his shoulders to steady him.

“Maybe, um, you should just lay on the bed?” she suggested.

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. So, I’ll just…”

“Get on the bed?”

“Get on the bed, yeah,” he repeated. The man spared a quick moment to smooth his shirt over his chest and run a hand back through his thick black hair, which had the most fatal way of feathering back across his forehead in a very regrettable heart shape.

Since the moment she’d met him, the man had possessed a magnetism that had set him apart from all the other hot people at the party, but here in his room, he was borderline pathetic, tromping around like a lost giraffe between the living room and the bed as he emptied his pockets between the desk and the bedside table. When, at last, he was ready, he walked to the foot of the bed and plopped down. He looked back at Gwen with a sheepish grin and comically high eyebrows.

“Ready?” she asked as she raised the bottle.

“If you are.”

She nodded and followed into the bedroom, and the air shifted. In here, it was hotter and even more humid than down at the beach but without the benefit of a breeze.

He sat down at the edge of the bed, and Gwen crawled on the bed beside him. She strategized on how to best take her shot, and while she positioned herself, her knees pressed into the mattress as she sat up, he untucked his shirt and raised it himself.

At the party, body shots had been a game. Here, it was foreplay. Judging from the blackness in his eyes, he knew it, too. He laid back and propped up just a bit on his elbows, which cupped his stomach just the right amount into the sweetest little bowl.

“It’s different,” he murmured.

“Yeah, it is,” she whispered, too, because somehow every thing, every word, felt very loud. “I can take my time now.”

He didn’t say anything. He just waited.

Gwen lifted the bottle, and, as carefully as she could, she tipped it until a golden thread puddled at his belly. He didn’t flinch this time. Instead, he sucked in a breath which deepened the cup at his navel, and she was only too happy to fill it to its tasty brim.

“Perfect,” she said as she set the bottle on the floor. “Don’t move.”

She braced her hands on his thigh and his ribcage and bent forward. Her lips glossed the velvety skin there before she opened her mouth and sucked up the sweet, smooth liquor all too quickly. This time, though, she spared a moment to dip her tongue into the divot, and this made the man beneath her hiss.

She licked her lips and ventured a look up his heaving torso to find him totally expressionless save for his overblown pupils.

“Satisfied?” he asked in a voice swollen with the same darkness.

Gwen shook her head lightly. “Still thirsty.”

But she did not reach for the bottle. Instead, she put her lips to his stomach and sampled a new patch of skin. It yielded beneath her, and so did he. He let out a low groan that tightened the muscles under her lips.

Another kiss led to another and then one more as she nipped and nibbled at the tender flesh. There was something about the man that was simply and undeniably edible, and no matter how much she tasted, she could not get enough. Gwen helped herself all the way up to the delicious flare of his rib cage, and at the swell there, she risked a swirl of her tongue. His head snapped up as he panted out a heavy pair of breaths.

“You're driving me crazy,” he said with a slanted smile.

“I could say the same,” she agreed, and when she brought attention back to his stomach, she noticed a lonely freckle at his hip. Her lips raced to devour it, this time adding a graze of her teeth. He jolted.

“That tickles!” he exclaimed though it was followed by another groan.

Gwen responded with another twirl of her tongue to savor the salt on his skin, and the groan became an outright moan. Emboldened by each grateful sound, her hand slid slowly up his thigh, and soon, it bumped a rigid hill smothered by tight denim.

At the first graze, he jolted again but followed it with a simmering hiss as his hips bucked reflexively into her hand. His eagerness was going to Gwen’s head. She wanted more of his pretty moans. She wanted more of his pretty body.

Her hand moved more brazenly to stroke the outline of the intensifying hardness, but this time, she was the one moaning at the way his bulge filled her palm. Her forehead pressed into that gentle stomach as she rested her lips lazily at his hip bone. Meanwhile, her fingertips traveled up the zipper to the waist of his jeans and swept back and forth before her thumb centered over the button there.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

Gwen kissed his hip again before she answered, “You told me if I wanted it, I had to do it.”

“Ah, I said that, didn't I?”

“You did. And I want it.”

He sat up higher now, expectation on his face. He drew his lush bottom lip between his teeth, and that alone set Gwen’s blood aflame.

Without another thought, she placed a garland of kisses along the waist of his jeans, and when she undid the button there, her lips raced to taste the secret skin she’d exposed. Dimly, she realized she was getting too carried away on a chance encounter, but she couldn't stop.

She couldn’t stop.

The further her mouth charted down the open zipper track, the more powerful her desire grew. She smelled his cologne here, too, bright like the tropical air but deepening down to dark woods on a second, greedier inhale. And beneath all that was the smell of him.

Too hungry now, Gwen hooked her hands in his jeans and tugged down. He lifted his hips with zero hesitation, and soon enough, she had full access to all that she desired. She swept her hand over the black fabric still sheltering him and felt him lurch. She hummed.

Slowly, she peeled down the hem of his boxer briefs, and his cock sprung up gratefully. Above her, her pretty boy exhaled hard, which only grew raspier as her skin touched his rawness at last.

Gwen’s romantic heart had drawn her to a number of beds over the years, and she’d enjoyed some decent sex in that time, but even without entering her, she knew this man was special. All his skin had been babied, but here, he was silkiest, like satin over marble. One touch was enough to fuel an addiction that sent a blaring alarm of dread to the back of her mind that she might never touch another cock that felt like it was made just to please her.

She danced her fingertips down his wickedly hard length until she got to his base, where she squeezed appreciatively. He hissed and hummed and arched his back before he mumbled something low and deep that she wished she could make out because just the echo of its echo sounded devastating.

Gwen didn’t intend to take things so leisurely—she knew she shouldn’t be—but it seemed foolish to fast forward through what had to be the sexiest man she’d ever met. Her friend’s rules be damned, she was going to enjoy every second for as long as she could make it last.

He was watching her, open-mouthed, as she held him. Their eyes met. Her breath caught.

Gwen wet her lips and pressed them to his hot, red tip and let her tongue curl into the smooth channel underneath. Her beautiful stranger let out the raspiest groan as his face disappeared from her view to sag under the weight of pleasure.

Spurred on, she invited him into her mouth now, shallow at first, but a little greedier with each pass until she could take what she could of him to the back of her throat. When she was comfortable, she found the perfect rhythm to have him singing for her with every eager suck.

And he was so noisy. It wasn’t filthy words or heaps of degradation like she’d heard plenty of times before. Between his moans and the grunts and the achy sighs, Gwen realized she’d never been with a man who had appreciated her more. It was filling her up with not just pride but confidence, and it made her want to ruin him even further.

His hand came to rest on the back of her head, but she quickly plucked it aside and pressed it into the mattress. For the briefest of moments, she released him to mumble, “Stay still.”

His shaky “okay” made her chest feel swimmy, and, instead, he balled two handfuls of sheets. But the man couldn’t help himself. Though he was hanging onto the bed with white knuckles, his hips took to lifting from the mattress, and she had to force them back down, too. She knew with just a little more speed and the addition of a helpful hand, she would get him off in no time, but she was having so much fun.

It didn’t hurt that all his whining was getting her off, too, even without a single touch. Gwen couldn’t remember a time she’d been so wet or so turned on.

Again, the stranger moaned, but this time, he added with a thick rasp, “You’re incredible. You might be my dream girl.”

It was her turn to whimper, but the vibrations traveled not just through her body and straight to her throbbing clit, but they also traveled down his length in a circuit of pleasure. He sucked in a harsh breath through gritted teeth as his legs tensed and struggled in the confines of the jeans still cuffing his knees.

“Can I—” he said before another grunt cut him off. “Wait. Can I just—fuck—can we take these pants off? I want to feel more of you.”

Gwen startled. She sat up on the bed and watched, numb with anticipation, as the man practically had to peel off his skinny jeans. He worked as quickly as he could, but it afforded her a flash of an ass as cute and smooth as his stomach and legs as long and delicate as his fingers. When he sat back down at the edge of the bed, he pulled off his shirt, too.

When she came to his room, Gwen hadn’t really known what to expect. It was clear they would end up in bed, but, for some reason, she never expected them to be fully naked. Now that things had taken a much more intimate turn, the casual momentum she had built quickly siphoned away.

This time, he didn’t lay back.

Here, he sat—breathless, naked, gripping his glistening cock, and staring hopefully at her.

“I’d really like to see you, too,” he asked.

As soon as he voiced his throaty wish, a fresh torrent of lust leaked between her pressed thighs. If she had worn the minidress Marie had pitched, there would have been no hiding it.

Gwen wanted to be coy or funny or anything other than tragically eager for this man, but how could she say no to such hopeful eyes and freckled lips?

With a red face and sweaty hands, she slipped out of her shirt, leaving her in her bra and leggings. She’d been wearing the same damn burgundy lace piece for two years, but now her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t undo the last clasp she’d put on hundreds of times.

He smiled knowingly and leaned in to wrap his arms around her. It only took him a moment to rescue her, but in his arms, time had stopped. Skin to skin changed everything. Gwen was spiraling, and the only way to make it stop was to steer into her tailspin.

Their lips met not in a clatter, but gently and with curiosity. Even at first brush, the way his puffy top lip notched into the crease of her lips felt like habit, like it had been there many times before and should return countless more times.

His hands cupped her cheeks briefly before they slid back in tandem to tangle in her disheveled waves. Only then, as he held her fiercely, did his tongue slip into her mouth to their shared whimper. One of his hands glided from her hair, down the back of her neck and over her shoulder, fingertips dancing like raindrops with the same biting chill thanks to the metal at his knuckles. He traced the side of her breast and then its underside all while his lips meshed with hers and his tongue curled deliciously against the roof of her mouth.

Trapped in the riptide of the moment, Gwen reached for him, too. His skin was just as soft at his neck and shoulders as it was at his waist, and she couldn’t stop stroking every inch she could access. He was only too happy to encourage her touches, even going so far to redirect her hand from his ribs to his hair like he wanted her to pet him. She let out a needy sigh that his mouth immediately gobbled up.

It wasn’t a surprise that the man was an attentive kisser. What surprised Gwen was how much she felt in the kiss. He was pouring something into her even as he seemed to drink from her, and she didn’t want it to stop.

She didn’t want it to ever stop.

You are here for fun.

Marie’s voice in the back of Gwen’s head was the ice water the blonde needed to disentangle from her beautiful stranger. Because that was all he was.

A beautiful stranger.

Gwen pulled back. He blinked slowly at her, but she kissed his flushed lips briefly to soften the transition. The hand of hers he’d placed in his hair drifted down his arm to his thigh, and whatever emotion had knitted his brows a moment ago corrupted. With a gnaw of her bottom lip, she slipped off the bed to the floor. His eyes followed.

He didn’t ask Gwen to kneel between his legs, but he didn’t have to. She was getting good at telling exactly what he’d like best—far too good at it.

His thighs were much creamier than the Florida caramel that warmed the rest of him, and as she shuffled into position between them, her hands worked higher and higher up their breadth. His knees tightened at her shoulders. Now that she was shirtless, she had no defense against the zaps of electricity that came with each stolen moment of raw contact.

His cock strained between his hips, the head shiny with lust and the veins pulsing along its length. Gwen gripped his hilt and stroked a few times, and he sighed in relief.

Now that he was sitting up, their dynamic swapped. He loomed over her. Shadows darkened what had always been a bright face. His enormous hands braced at the edge of the bed, firing prominent veins along his forearms. His shoulders corded with heavy muscle previously concealed by his round edges. The planes of his stomach creased as he bent over her. He wasn’t about to neglect even a second of his front row seat.

Gwen brought her lips back to his member and picked right back up where she’d left off, only this time she was noisier. Wet slurps and hungry hums echoed up from between his legs, and with each one, he got a little louder, too.

This time when his massive hand curled around the back of her head, Gwen reveled in it. His nails scratched deliciously against her scalp as he threaded her hair through those elegant fingers and tugged mindlessly. She was grateful she’d forgotten to strip off her leggings or she would have been dripping shamelessly on the carpet.

At last, she picked up speed, so she closed her eyes and concentrated on her seal around his demanding thickness. Her lips chased her fist up and down his shaft so he was never without a moment of her full attention.

The messier she savored him, the more urgent his whines got and the more he bucked underneath her. The hand in her hair was now a fist full of a makeshift ponytail. Mouth full, she raised her eyes to his face. A swirl of her tongue around his tip was all it took to rip a cry from his hunkered chest.

“Wait, wait, wait!” he demanded and pushed her shoulders back. “Wow, okay, you have to stop. I’m going to cum.”

“That’s the idea,” Gwen replied as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

But the man shook his head. “I want to make this last, and I definitely don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You’re not.”

“Good… Good.”

A pregnant silence fell between them. Both of them considered where to direct the needle of their night next, but he was faster.

“You know, the view from up here really is something,” he said.

“Ha ha,” Gwen said drily, but the earnest look on his face knocked her sarcasm down a few pegs.

“Come up and see.”

He offered both his hands, and once she took them, he helped her up to the edge of the bed. When she was seated beside him again, he kissed her sweetly.

When he stopped, his forehead rocked against hers, and her eyes fluttered open.

“I really want to taste you,” he confessed in a whisper.

Gwen swallowed hard.

“You do?”

“Desperately.”

“It’s just—” she fumbled, painfully aware of the panic in her voice.

“You don’t want me to?”

She didn’t know how to explain herself without pitiful embarrassment. Most of the men Gwen had dated were keen for a blowjob but always had a dozen reasons to move things along right after. Over time, it had given her a heavy insecurity, which Marie had always assured her was utter bullshit, yet still it persisted. Gwen didn’t think she could recover from someone this desirable rejecting her, even if he was a total stranger.

“No, I mean, yeah, if you really want,” she blundered, “but… it’s just—”

She bit her lip, and he cocked his head patiently. His hand squeezed her knee, and the words came tumbling out of her mouth.

“I’m kind of a mess down there.”

“Yeah?” he said hopefully—to her complete and utter shock. “Come on, you can’t tease me like that. Now, I have to taste you.”

“What if— It might take me awhile,” she admitted from behind her hands.

Gently, he lowered them from her face to her lap, where he held them like a friend, though his hooded eyes and honeyed voice told a very different story.

“I hope it does.”

Gwen gasped and closed her eyes to steady herself. “What about you?”

He laughed. “This is about me.”

The best she could manage was a slow nod, but that was all the stranger needed.

He dropped to his knees on the floor and spread her legs enough to rub his huge palms up her thighs and back down again. The more he soothed her, the more her legs parted on their own so he could sit taller—and closer—between them. On the next sweep up, his hands lingered at the crest of her thighs so his thumbs could stroke over her swollen sex still imprisoned in her leggings.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“So good,” she replied as she collapsed onto the mattress and threw an arm over her eyes.

“Good. You can watch if you want, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I’d recover from something like that. You’re, like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen as it is. That might actually ruin me for life.”

He chuckled, but it was tainted with pride. “Maybe that’s the idea.”

Gwen shot up to her elbows to argue, but that was the exact moment the man wriggled his slender fingers under her waistband and then her underwear to peel them both off. Cold air attacked her core, and though it was a relief to finally be free of her sticky prison, she was unprepared for the pad of his finger to graze over the seam of her lips. She shivered and whined.

He hummed. “You’re really feeding my ego here, sweetheart.”

His thumbs resumed the same stroke as before, but since it was over her bare lips this time, the intensity amplified exponentially. Each wave parted her folds a bit, and there was no escaping the knowledge that her arousal leaked heavily every time.

“What a pretty sight,” he murmured.

Foolishly, Gwen stole a look at the man, and the image of his keen eyes fixed on her wet cunt branded her brain just as she’d feared. She whimpered, zipping her bottom lip between her teeth to near shreds as he played with her.

She felt the first brush of his lips against her not in the careless rush of an obligation but as a leisurely kiss of a seasoned lover. There, his mouth lingered only to part for his purposeful tongue. He licked up along her seam once—twice—and on the third pass, his fingers parted her core wide. The exposure had her keening mindlessly, but when his tongue swiped through the secret skin, she cried at the top of her lungs. Her arm pressed over her eyes hard enough to create starbursts behind her lids while her other arm pressed over her mouth.

For just a moment, he pulled back. Another burst of cool air blasted her core as he hummed again, this time dreamily. “Perfect.”

He kissed the meat of her thigh once, and then drove on heedlessly. He teased her entrance for a moment before he swirled that wicked tongue around her clit with a mind-numbing rhythm. Through all of it, Gwen sank deeper into pleasure. As vocal as he had been, she managed to outdo him even with her makeshift gag. It was completely mortifying but also completely out of her control.

He didn’t try to stop her writhing or her moaning. Instead, he used them both to his advantage. Whenever she squirmed, he chased, and it made the promise of release a near certainty.

It was incredible. It was terrifying.

It shouldn’t be this easy. It had never been this easy before.

Gwen felt the blossom of his lips nibbling at her aching clit, and before she could brace herself, he’d taken her in his mouth. It wasn’t just his delicious suction that made her lungs seize but the way his tongue undulated across her eager bud.

And then he pressed a fingertip to her entrance.

Gwen’s hands flew to the sheets and dug into the mattress. Her head snapped up as she screamed, “Oh my god!”

Her eyes flew open. He was waiting.

Damn heart-shaped hair and damn heavy eyes stole what was left of her sanity right before he eased his finger inside her.

At least the unprecedented bliss gave Gwen the small mercy of forcing her flat to the bed. Her back arched, her nipples tightened, and her voice gave out. The only thing she could do was pant like some unbound creature.

His fingers were so long—world-record long, she thought drunkenly—and they explored parts of her she’d never even known were there. He didn’t race through her either, but primed her the same as she’d primed him, the devil. In only a matter of a few plunges, he knew her in ways she’d never even known herself.

In and out, in and out, he pumped that perilously long finger, each stroke sealed with a kiss of metal and knuckle. Her body hungered louder and messier, worse even than she’d promised him. Her shameless pussy dribbled like it had never been touched before, and Gwen was very, very glad she could hide in the crook of her arm.

And then he added a second finger.

The stretch was vision-whitening, the depth dizzying, but still his tongue insisted on speeding her to her ledge. Even with her face covered, she turned away because looking at him was like risking looking into the sun.

“I’m going to— I’m going to—” she stammered.

His mouth lifted then, but before Gwen could protest, he brought his other fingers to her clit. There, he kept a thorough pace just shy of what she needed. No doubt, he knew it just as she had known it with him, but with the tables turned, it felt unexpectedly cruel.

As if to contradict that, he tenderly kissed her thigh, and basic instinct drove her to look at him.

He smiled at her, and, with grit in his voice, he asked, “You going to cum for me, beautiful?”

“Yes!” cried Gwen, shuddering on his fingers. “Yes, yes, yes!”

His fingers moved faster now, across her throbbing hill as well as inside her. Pressure like she’d never felt built between her hips. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to think.

And it all happened faster than she could ever have imagined.

She unwound.

Eyes winched shut, Gwen tore at the sheets as she arched, every muscle clamped in ecstasy, before everything released and she slumped glassy-eyed onto the mattress. Somewhere below her, she heard a little refrain of happy hums and dimly felt the slick circle of a tongue collecting all that she had released.

She panted as she came down from her high, her arm flung over her face once again, feeling everything and nothing all at once. As she worked to center herself, Gwen shivered.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” said the stranger who was once again idly massaging her thighs, this time with the most delicious domesticity. “You kind of glow when you cum.”

“Oh, shut up!” she wailed as she curled into a ball.

“What? Sorry, but I mean it. You do this cute little thing with your toes, like a kitten paw.”

Gwen heard him pantomiming something in the sheets, but she was too busy cringing into another universe, one where she’d kept at least a little of her dignity. She burrowed her head deeper into her arms to fight back how endearing she found him.

“Hey,” he said with the sincerity of concern. “You okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

“You liked it, right?”

Gwen peeked out through a small window behind her arms and found the man seated beside her on the bed. He looked down at her with eyes no longer blackened exclusively by desire but softened with care. She bit her lip and lifted her head as she held his gaze.

A beat passed before she said, “I loved it.”

“Well then, if that’s the case…” he said softly.

He leaned down and kissed her as lightly as a feather brushing skin. When he pulled back, there was the sweet temptation of darkness tinting his eyes once more.

“Will you let me inside you?”

“Why did you have to say it like that?” whimpered Gwen as she flopped back onto the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” he said though he sounded anything but. “Is this better? Please let me fuck you.”

She hissed. “You’re a terrible, terrible man.”

“Yeah, but I’ll make you feel so good, and I did ask nicely.”

“You did…” she murmured as she leaned up.

Their lips barely had time to fully enmesh because he had to help guide her up to the pillows since the only thing she could manage for the moment was a beached fish, half-hearted wiggle.

If Gwen thought she’d have a moment to recover between heated kisses, she was dead wrong. He caged her in beneath him, his heavy cock thudding unmistakably against her mound as his body flattened against hers. Her legs spread instinctively. Perhaps she should have taken the many, many hints that she would never have any control over herself with this man, but the way her body simply opened for him was more than a little pathetic.

At first, she threaded both hands in his hair, and he groaned into her mouth, but every little thing he did made her restless for more. She kept a hand fixed in his hair while the other now squeezed and groped the length of his back. Even if she couldn’t see it at the moment, his shape drove her wild. Not only did his definition heat her hotter than she’d ever felt in her life, but, fully pressed against hers, his skin was as decadent as cashmere.

His member, on the other hand, was as heavy and demanding as a stone on her mound. Every time he rutted against her, the base of his shaft brushing her engorged folds, she lost a little more of her sanity. She could probably cum again just like this, completely empty and yet feeling so fulfilled.

They passed some time in each other’s mouths without further expectation, but the weightier his cock pressed, the more impossible it was to ignore her basest needs. As he’d been able to do all night, he read her easily.

Unwilling to leave her lips, he groped blindly at the nightstand until he’d found what he was looking for and had to break their kiss. He held up a condom, his eyebrows up on his sweet, swollen-lipped face with the unasked question.

“Forget it,” Gwen said with a huff. “We’ve already crossed the line, I’m on the pill, and I really just want to feel you.”

“Oh, shit, are you—” he said, but she cupped his cheeks and kissed him hungrily.

She was being stupid, but the fuck if she cared.

Gwen whimpered with every sweep of his tongue, but those gave way to hitching cries as his long fingers trailed from her cheek down her arm to her hip where they danced in unreadable designs across her flesh. It was so playful, so charming that her heart fluttered to a totally different rhythm than it had all night. And that was dangerous. She needed to move this along at last.

You are here for fun.

Her hips jerked beneath him, tilting up in a kiss far filthier and needier than even their mouths’, and he pulled back with a ragged hiss.

“You are so wet again,” he growled with a glance down between their bodies.

“I can’t help what you’re doing to me.”

He cocked his head to the side, looking handsomer than any man really had a right. “Yeah?”

“Yes…” she sighed. “You make me so desperate.”

She drove her hips up again, her overheated sex grazing his base once more. His eyes flared, and Gwen felt the urge to cower.

Suddenly, he grabbed her arm and pushed it above her head, pinning it there by her wrist.

Dimly, the bass from the music far below drummed through the walls, but it was little more than a backing track to their tattered breath.

His stare was more commanding, more powerful even than the hot-forged iron branding her just shy of her center.

“I—”

Despite how badly Gwen yearned to hear the rest, he let whatever thought it was simmer on the heavily perfumed air enveloping them. His eyes searched her, from his ring-clad hand clasping her wrist to her sweat-studded breasts and back, at last, to her parted mouth.

He dove back down to her lips with another growl while his other hand fumbled between their bodies. After a moment, his hips lifted, and she felt the blunt head of his cock at her entrance at last.

She needed air to calm her ragged nerves, but thief that he was, he stole everything from her with another nibble of her lips. As his tongue entered her mouth again, he pushed his length inside her walls.

Gwen tore from his kiss to unleash the reediest moan of her life.

“Oh fuck,” he grunted. “Did you feel that?”

She had no idea what he meant, which made it all the more dangerous because she knew exactly what she felt.

Everything.

Why did he have to kiss her just then?

Why did he have to fill her like he was the only one who should ever do it again?

You’re idealizing, Gwennie, she scrambled to remind her sex-saturated mind, but she couldn’t convince herself to stop even if she knew she was. This was a man who was every bit as perfect as her stupid romantic self wanted to believe.

All Gwen could do was moan and grasp the back of his head.

He followed the weight of her hand and pressed his face into the juncture of her neck to kiss her reverentially.

“Go slow,” she implored.

He hummed in agreement and eased his hips back to draw his length to its limit before gliding back in as though he were savoring her. The moment he bottomed out, her mouth fell open in a silent wail. Gwen had never felt so full.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Open up for me.”

His voice penetrated as deeply as his cock and rendered her putty in his hands.

Each sweep of his hips was catastrophic, but it was even worse since his body smothered hers. It was too much and not enough all at once, and Gwen was glad she didn’t have use of her other hand or she’d have wrapped him up in her arms already.

She thought after the first few strokes that he’d pick up speed, but he seemed content to while away their night just like this. The only change to his smooth rhythm was the rough emphasis he added to his every thrust that drove the air out of her lungs each time. It was like he was trying to drive deeper and deeper and deeper inside of her.

Each penetration afforded her the sexiest view of the horizon of his body, and now that she was this far gone, she lifted her head so she wouldn't miss another moment. He moved with the grace of water, and the current threatened to drown her just as easily. The swell of his ass rose and fell over the heave of his back.

His whines and grunts came back with a vengeance, with the added mercilessness of being uttered along her skin. It was a devastating reminder that as much pleasure as she drew from him, he was just as greedy for her body, too.

“Need to fuck you harder,” he warned in a voice heavy with gravel. “I need to.”

“I want you to,” Gwen echoed.

If she thought this would be the reason he pulled back from this ridiculous intimacy, she was dead wrong. Instead, he stilled inside her as he lifted to his elbows, but it only brought his searing gaze to her. His enormous hand soared up to cup her cheek. His thumb traced her bottom lip before, at last, he planted his hand firmly on the mattress.

His first few thrusts stayed slow, but soon he gained speed and, with it, power. His hips slapped against hers, and each time, it sounded wetter and wetter, but it all should have been louder.

The difference was, now that they couldn’t tear their eyes away from one another, neither seemed capable of making a sound. It was all Gwen could do to remember to breathe.

Harder and harder, he drove into her until her tits were bouncing and each fuck pushed rhythmic, vibrating cries from her. Still, she could tell they were both holding something back from one another.

They knew the moment they ended, whatever this was had to end, too.

His luscious mouth parted. There were words there, half-formed, but those he held back, too, though she starved to know them.

The next thing Gwen knew, he released her wrist to push her knee up and back. The angle shifted, and she had no choice but to rip her eyes from his to watch as his cock disappeared inside her greedy cunt.

She let out a tattered moan before she hiccupped out, “So. Fucking. Good.”

“I want to be deeper,” he answered back.

Gwen’s eyes rolled back in her head. “You’re—ah—you’re already so deep.”

But he didn’t seem to hear her. He dropped to her chest again, his hips rutting truly desperately at last. He buried his face in her neck and his nose in her hair as his lips glanced across her skin in the unintentional kiss that came with every thrust.

“Deeper…” he murmured as though hypnotized.

“Oh my god!”

He hitched her thigh higher up his side so she could feel with devastating consequence the way his ribs flared with every frantic gulp of air.

“Wrap your leg around me,” he instructed.

Gwen dug her heel into the meat of his back, and he grunted, but it still wasn’t enough for him.

“Hold me tighter, please.”

As she’d feared, it was a mistake the moment she wrapped her arms around him. Strangers fucking didn’t embrace. Yet here she was, clinging on with the last of her sanity to his sturdy shoulder blades.

He smelled so good—like sex and summer—and it imprinted on her mind.

“So. Deep,” she stuttered.

The way he stretched her out clouded her mind until the only thing she could find through the fog was him.

How could he possess her so fully but make her so desperate for more of him?

Him.

“Give me your hand,” he demanded in a rush.

Gwen let one hand fall from his back to the bed, and he grabbed it quickly and pushed it up over her head again, only this time, his fingers threaded through hers and squeezed as tightly as her walls squeezed his shaft.

His thrusts switched to shorter, shallower, much faster now. Each time, his cockhead brushed over a spot inside her that robbed her of all sound and all thought. Just like that, he’d reduced her to nothing but quivering nerves and trembling muscles.

Gwen dug her nails roughly into his back same as she squeezed his hand and let him ride her for all she was worth.

Since his cheek pressed against hers, she heard his every grunt in relentless stereo. He was too needy, too desperate. It was only magnifying those same feelings inside her.

Her skin burned with sweat. Her eyes burned from squeezing them against the overwhelming pleasure. Her core burned from the friction of his perfect fucking.

He was panting in her ear, and she could feel the curl of his lip as he snarled.

Gwen moved her free hand into his hair as she clutched his head to her like a lover.

“Baby,” she cried, “baby, I’m going to cum again.”

He let out the most pitiful whine she’d ever heard in her life as his hips spurred even faster.

“Baby.”

The pull was there, starting at her chest and dragging her down.

Down.

Down.

“Give it to me,” he urged, the words nearly broken under the crushing weight of his desperation.

“Baby!”

This time when Gwen said it, it was a strangled little thing, the last breath of a woman before she disappeared beneath the waves.

It was different, cumming with his cock inside her instead of his fingers. Her walls frantically beckoned him to disappear within her, willing him to never leave. She shivered and shook and screamed with the power of a release she’d never thought herself capable.

He fucked her through it all, the smoky curl of his self-satisfied “yes…” unfurling across her skin.

And when at last Gwen had no more aftershocks to give, she laid there too limp to hold on to him at all. Her leg slipped to the bed and her hand from his hair and her fingers slackened in his, though he refused to let her go.

His strokes had grown erratic, each one accompanied by the sloppy sounds of her catastrophic release.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he said hurriedly.

Gwen knew what she wanted—what her body was demanding. She wanted him to fill her up. She wanted this perfectly handsome perfect stranger to cum deep inside her so she should could hold on to a little bit of him even after she walked out the door.

But this was the end—not just of their passionate sex but their time together. If she didn’t put distance between them right now, she was in for an even more terrible fall.

No feelings, just sex.

“My face,” she blurted.

Gwen regretted it instantly. That wasn’t what she wanted at all, and she braced for the humiliation she deserved.

But, instead, he pulled out with a strangled cry and came in the tangle of bed sheets beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he managed between heaves of breath and frantic jerks of his spasming cock. “I’m sorry.”

She watched his broad, glistening back flare as he hid himself from her, and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to touch him. Her fingertips slipped in the sheen of sweat there, and his head whipped back toward her.

“I couldn’t do that,” he said dejectedly. “You’re just so pretty, I’m sorry. I know that’s what you wanted, but—”

“I didn’t mean it anyway,” she said. “I don’t know why I said it.”

Something fluttered across his dark features before his brow furrowed, and he turned away again. “Damnit, I should have never listened to my friends.”

Gwen quirked her head even as she covered up with the sheet. “Your friends?”

The man tumbled onto the mattress and spread out like a winded starfish without a single care for his nakedness, and she felt a little shame at the way she ogled that delicious stomach and his softening length now glossy and still leaking onto his thigh.

He sighed.

He was so different now from the dark, intense man he’d been only moments ago. Back was the brilliance that emanated from within that almost compelled Gwen to close her eyes when she looked at him. She could hardly believe it was the same man who’d brought her to two earth-shaking orgasms in no time at all.

“Can I confess something to you?” he said.

Gwen tensed all over, but she managed a nod of her head. “Okay.”

“This isn’t really my thing,” he continued, and her heart plummeted in ways it shouldn’t considering she’d just fucked a total stranger.

“Oh…”

Gwen realized too late how apparent the disappointment in her voice was when the man shot up and swiveled to her, his hands waving in defense. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear! I mean, I have a hard time keeping things… simple. It wasn’t just the body shot thing that was a dare. Tonight was kind of my friends’ idea. They want me to be more… unattached, I guess?”

“That’s what my friend said, too,” Gwen laughed.

“Really?” He joined her laugh until, finally, his shoulders sagged with a light sigh as he covered his lower half with the sheet at last.

“Yeah.”

“I thought I was doing pretty good there, too, but— That was just so much more than I ever expected—you’re kind of more than I expected—and I really don’t want you to think I was just using you.”

“I don’t.”

“Good. Because…” He paused then, massaging his lips together as his eyes fell to his lap. “I think their dare kind of backfired anyway. Or it’s entirely possible I’m a hopeless case. So… I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow?”

At this, Gwen stiffened. Her eyes snagged on his naked frame. Though the sheet swaddled his hips and thighs, it did nothing to hide his tummy or his shoulders or his bowed head, nor did it conceal his pencil legs and feet poking sweetly over the edge of the bed. And then she realized they were both tucked under that sheet, and it would be so, so easy to just lay back and fall asleep with him.

There it was again, that urge to romanticize someone she didn’t even know, yet everything about the guy screamed boyfriend—or worse.

Oh no.

Boyfriend.

The one word Marie had made Gwen swear not to use this weekend.

And damned if her roommate hadn’t been right all along. The hard truth was, Gwen didn’t know this man. She didn’t know what he did, she didn’t know his past, she didn’t know his ethnicity or even his damn name, and that was all there was to it. To assign any more meaning to it was every bit as foolish as everyone always reminded her she was.

Dread welled in her stomach and weighted her limbs. The best Gwen could do was offer a tight smile. “I’d really like that, but my friend has our whole day planned.”

“Oh.” He looked crestfallen, but he picked himself up quickly and slipped out of the bed in a shy, awkward rush while trying to keep his modesty with the edge of the sheet still draped around his hips. He stretched out his leg as far as he could to hook the band of his jeans with his toe. He tried to keep conversation flowing even as he struggled with the cutest little grunts very different to the ones that had just been uttered for her ears only. “Oh yeah? Going to check out the beach or the city?”

“I’m not sure,” Gwen said. The truth was they had no plans, but she had to lie because her whole body screamed to meet him again, and if she did, there was no way of keeping things superficial. The man was too cute, too sincere, and far, far too sexy to turn down a second time. “I’m not one for itineraries. I kind of go where my heart leads me.”

He stopped, jeans sagging in hand as he looked at her with a gentle smile. “Yeah, same.”

But then his smile fell away, and he raced to shimmy into his jeans, too in a hurry to even bother with his underwear, and Gwen turned her head and busied herself poking at the remote on the bedside table.

Over her shoulder, she asked, “So, what will you guys get up to then? More bachelor party stuff?”

“I never can tell with them. Even when one of the guys makes plans, the others always seem to change them. I’m just along for the ride.”

“Easiest way to get through life,” she agreed. Gwen wanted to flinch at her own voice, but she didn’t want to call any more attention to her terrible bedside manner than she already had.

In the end, it didn’t matter. The man beside her was too perceptive, and he picked up her cues instantly. “Let me just grab the rest of my clothes and clean up in the bathroom so you can get dressed.”

“Would you mind if I go first? You know, since...”

Maybe if she tried hard enough, her awkwardness could compact her into a handful of atoms, and she could just disappear.

“Oh, of course, duh. Sure. Absolutely,” he bumbled.

Gwen grabbed the haphazard pile at the foot of the bed and practically sprinted to the bathroom where she tried to lose herself in the repetition of cleanliness. At least that was automatic.

Against her better judgment, she checked herself in the mirror. She looked every bit as undone as he had made her, and she hastily combed her fingers through her bed head so she didn’t scream “harlot” when she made her way back through the hallways. She rinsed her face and neck and swished some water to freshen her breath, and when she was done, she felt brave enough to face the music.

When Gwen returned to the bedroom, she found the man dressed as he had been, though all his clothes bore the same noticeable wrinkles and bagginess that hers did.

He smiled at her, and she swallowed roughly.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

It was agony. She just wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to feel him again. She wanted to hear him in the shell of her ear again.

“So, this was really fun,” she said lamely. “Thanks for the drinks and, you know, everything else.”

He laughed shyly.

This time, as she faced his open complexion and expressive eyes, she had no choice but to be sincere. “I had a really great time.”

“You did?”

She nodded. “I really didn’t expect to meet someone like you either, but I’m glad I did.”

“Ah!” he exclaimed before he unexpectedly bowed to her. “Thank you. I feel the same.”

Gwen burst out laughing, which helped ease the pang in her heart at having to pull away. “You’re cute.”

He shrugged a shoulder and laughed, too, though his was much more forced. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and the pair stood there in a stalemate. At last, he took a step back, and she took one forward.

“So…”

“So…” he echoed.

Gwen bit the inside of her cheek roughly in the desperate hope it would wake her up, and, thankfully, the flare of pain combatted the butterflies before they could overtake her. Tightly, she began, “I’m going to head out, I think.”

“Sure, yeah,” he said as he ushered her back into the living room to the door. “Yeah, you probably should. Are you good to walk back to your room? Wait, this is your hotel, right? Do I need to call you an Uber?”

“Yeah, I’m here. All good.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

They exchanged another round of confused smiles before Gwen, fool that she was, lurched up onto her tip toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. When she pulled back, his smile slanted with an irresistible dopiness.

“You sure you don’t want me to walk you back?”

“You probably shouldn’t.”

He nodded as though he understood, but Gwen wasn’t sure she did even though she’d been the one to say it.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

“Night,” he replied. “Take care.”

He opened his hotel door, and with a nod of her head first, Gwen turned and headed down the hall with the burning notion that he was watching her walk away.

She barely made it to the elevator before she had her phone in hand, intending to text Marie that she was headed back, but Gwen got sidetracked by the memory of what now lurked in her gallery.

She opened her camera roll only to be assaulted immediately by several snaps of his heart-shaped hair and buoyant cheeks framing his dazzling smile.

“He's cute. Is that your boyfriend?”

Gwen’s head shot up. She hadn’t even realized the elevator had stopped to acquire another passenger at some point. The bleached blonde girl smiled, her wild gold eyeliner glinting in the lowlight like some forest sprite sent there just to taunt her.

Gwen locked her phone and stuffed it in her leggings pocket with a shake of her head. “Uh. Oh, no, he’s just a friend.”

“Cute friend.”

“Yeah.”

The elevator dinged at the fourth floor and Gwen nodded to the other woman. “This is me. Have a good night.”

“You too!”

Back at her room, Gwen showered quickly, hoping it would be easier to distance herself from the forbidden word now buzzing in her brain like neon.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

She considered a shower, but that meant too much time to think just as much as it meant washing off the remnants of his cologne. She could do that in the morning once her heart had sobered up from its dopamine surge.

Gwen dressed for bed the same mechanical way she had back in Room 2281, and once she was safely into her pajamas, the familiarity brought the exhaustion in her muscles to the surface. She was only too happy to climb into bed after that, and tired as she was, she remembered to send her text to Marie.

Her finger hovered over the gallery icon again, but at the last second, she forced her phone off and let the night take hold of her.

Gwen woke to banging at her door. She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and sat up slowly since her muscles ached from head to toe. She glanced at the thick drapes and caught the wan strip of light along the edges, but she had no clue what time it was until she grabbed her phone to find that it was just past noon. Even more surprisingly, she noted the slew of notifications.

Nine texts and four missed calls, all from Marie.

The banging continued, and Gwen groaned. “Give me a minute!”

At last, it quieted, and she shuffled like a geriatric over to the peephole. There, warped in the fish eye lens, was her roommate looking the perfect cross between annoyed and desperate. Gwen unlocked the door, and Marie rushed in.

“Finally,” the brunette said. “I was getting seriously worried.”

“I told you I made it back,” Gwen corrected.

“Yeah, but then you didn’t answer me at all, and I thought maybe you were passed out or something.”

The blonde squinted as she studied her friend now pacing the length of the hotel room. “Are you sure that’s it? Seems to me you’re the one who’s not okay.”

Marie shrugged a shoulder.  

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” her roommate said, still pacing. “Everything.”

Still exhausted, Gwen sat back on the bed and waited.

“Shit, it’s just— You know what, let's go to the pool. Maybe it will wash that guy out of my system.”

“That guy? The one from the party last night? Did you have a bad night?”

“No! Worse!” Marie wailed and flopped onto the bed. “He wasn't just scalding hot. He was likable! Ugh, I'm devastated. Catching feelings is your thing, girl, not mine. Damnit, I need a distraction. Tell me about your night. Please, don’t spare a single fucking detail.”

It was Gwen’s turn to shrug a shoulder. “I had fun.”

“So much fun you're not even going to tell your friend a single detail?” But then Marie's eyes narrowed, and her roommate’s skin bristled. “Or you had too much fun?”

“Hey, I slept in my own room last night, thank you.”

Marie whined. “Shit, I know. I must be projecting.”

“So what the hell happened with you last night?” Gwen said, only too happy to turn the attention away from her as she shuffled into the bathroom for her usual morning routine.

“I hardly know. We were dancing and drinking, no big deal, so I figured it was just going to be the usual fun, and it was fun, but, shit, he was just different, you know? He was like one of those lead guys from your movies, all gentlemanly and shit but more, too. Like he’s got secrets, but not the kind you want to run from, the kind you want to know. Oh my god, what am I even saying?”

Gwen smiled. “So, he was hot and charming? How is that different from the other guys you hook up with?”

“Gwennie, I didn’t even tell you about the sex. Shit, the way he moved his hips! There should be a law. And he was so diligent. He knew exactly what I wanted, and I didn't have to say a word, which was good because the only ones I could utter were swears. And I just couldn’t keep my hands off of him, you know? Fuck, not just his muscles, but his hair…” Marie laid there slack-jawed at the memory, her hands pressed over her belly.

“Sounds like you got the unforgettable night you were gunning for.”

“You don’t get it, babe. Even as he was giving me the dicking down of my life, this guy—he was, like, quietly sweet and funny? I don’t know how to explain it. He could just… smile, and it would make me laugh, like, even when he was inside, and somehow that was still super hot, you know?”

Gwen burst out laughing.

“See!” said Marie, gesturing at her roommate as she exploded up from the bed.

“I see,” the blonde teased with a lingering grin.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just, you know who you sound like?”

“You.”

“Me.”

Marie sighed. “Shit, I know. You know the worst part?”

“What?”

“This guy asked me to stay after.”

“Oh…”

“I mean, it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time I considered staying. Ain’t that some shit? But what would be the point, right?”

“Yeah…” Gwen said slowly as she thought of her thick-lipped lover. Marie’s unexpected dilemma had been just what Gwen needed to forget the ache in her core and the bigger ache in her chest, but now, it was a mirror reflecting things back far too vividly.

“Shit, huh?”

“Yeah. Shit.”

“You know the only thing to do, right?”

“Don't you dare,” Gwen warned.

But Marie was already up and moving to the door. “We’re going to the pool, and I'm going to find another hot guy because hot guys are a dime a dozen in Miami, right? I'm going to cleanse the palate.”

“Yeah, that's not how that works.”

“Look, I've never thought a guy was husband material before, let alone a one-night stand, so what do you suggest I do, Ms. Ephron?”

Gwen scowled. “Don't ask me. I've been getting it wrong so long that I'm not even sure I could trust myself to know when it was right.”

“Okay then. For lack of absolutely any other plan, this is what we’re doing. Put your swimsuit on, gorgeous. Let’s see how much Vitamin D we can get.”

Gwen sighed, but the truth was Marie’s distraction did help her forget the feeling of being surrounded by the stranger she couldn’t shake, so she slipped into her bikini, fought hard not to open her gallery yet again, and decided to dive headfirst into something new like her friend suggested if only to prove to herself once and for all that she’d idealized everything about last night.

Marie joined her in the hallway decked out in her cutest Miami-approved string bikini, already smelling of sunscreen and Flowerbomb. “Let’s do this.”

The pair chatted about their day and where they might go for their last night in town, all while studiously avoiding the topic of last night. They padded through the extravagant lobby along with a sea of other swimsuit-ed guests, their flip-flops smacking across the marble like theme music, until they emerged into the blistering Florida sun.

The pool looked very different in the daylight. There was no trace of the stage or the bars, and there was certainly no body shot table left out. It was just an ocean of sun-bleached concrete thrusting straight up to the white sands of Miami Beach, broken only by an enormous aquamarine pool, dozens of lavish cabanas, and a manmade forest of towering palms.

“Wait,” said Gwen as she scouted the bustling crowd stretching all the way out to the blue sea beyond, “you want the pool or—”

“Oh my god!” shouted Marie as she squealed to a stop and slipped behind Gwen. “It's him!”

“Who? The guy from last night? Where?”

“There, right at the edge of the pool. The one who’s shaped like a yield sign telling me slow down and give in to him again and again and again…”

“Marie!” she shouted and whirled around to face her friend.

“Oh my god, Gwennie, you have to hold me back or I am going to do irreparable damage here. Shit, shit, shit! I can’t believe I’m the one saying this. Fuck. He's looking right at me now, and he's waving with that stupid cute teddy bear smile, fuck. What do I do! What do I do!”

Gwen grabbed her friend’s shoulders and shook her until Marie looked at her. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to go over there, and I want to talk to him, and I want to hear his whole entire life story and what he wants in a woman, and then I want to take him back to my hotel room and be that woman.”

“Oh, girl,” Gwen laughed, “I never want to hear advice from you about this ever again.”

“That’s fine, just please come with me. I don’t want to talk to him alone.”

“Who are you, and what did you do with Marie?”

The brunette grimaced as she squeezed Gwen’s hands. “I don’t know! Help me!”

“Okay, now, I need to see the guy who broke my friend.”

Gwen turned from Marie toward the pool in time to catch the man who’d unmade her roommate over the course of one night. He was every bit as hot as Marie had described, with a chiseled jaw and even more chiseled abs, and he was indeed shaped like a triangle, which could be appreciated even easier since he was only in swim trunks. His skin had been worshipped by the sun, and he was sparkling thanks to a fresh dip in the pool. He lowered his muscular arm to sweep his fingers back through his sopping wet hair, and somewhere beside her, her friend whimpered.

But the blonde could only spend a fraction of a second on everything else around her because beside Marie’s hunk now was the very man who had unmade Gwen last night.

Time stopped.

He, too, was fresh out of the pool, with a towel ringing his neck and shoulders as swollen droplets rained down from thick, haphazard locks. He was out of breath, his chest heaving from his swim and his pale lips hanging open as he gulped air, just as they had when he’d fucked her to the brink of insanity.

But his eyes were as steady as ever, and they were fixed firmly on Gwen.

“Should we go over?” asked Marie, but her friend couldn’t move.

Instead, the two men began to walk the long perimeter before the bronzed man cut out the inconvenience and hopped back in the pool to wade across. Gwen was pretty sure she’d never again see anything more life-altering than these two shirtless heartthrobs pressing determinedly through the water with the ripples surging around their matching narrow waists.

The pair climbed out in horrible, horrible unison, their wet thighs flexing in time with their arms as water rushed off in diamond falls, and it was all terribly loud in Gwen’s ears. It only amplified when her stranger smiled in his darling tight-lipped way.

They padded across the concrete to the little swath of grass under a palm where the two ladies had been paralyzed.

“Hi, hello,” said the deep-voiced bronzed man. “It’s nice to see you again, Marie.”

“Hey, Hyunwoo,” she replied. Maybe it would sound casual to the strangers, but Gwen didn’t miss the uncharacteristic tremble in her friend’s voice.

“Good day for a swim,” he observed as he glanced up at the sun through the palm fronds and rubbed the back of his neck. “You planning on the pool or the ocean?”

“We hadn’t decided.”

“Ah, is this your friend you told me about?”

Marie nodded and took the chance to cling to her roommate’s hand, and with that, gained some strength. “Oh, yeah, this is Gwen. Gwen, this is Hyunwoo.”

Gwen felt the sharp squeeze at her hand, which was the only thing that made her realize she’d been staring unceasingly at her own pretty boy. She whipped her attention to Hyunwoo to smile and wave, but she could feel the burn of the other man’s eyes until she felt more naked than she had in his bed. She didn’t dare look back.

“Nice to meet you,” Hyunwoo said with that teddy bear smile, as Marie had called it. He turned toward his shirtless friend and added, “This is—”

“Hey!” came an exuberant call from across the pool in one of the loudest voices Gwen had ever heard. There stood yet another handsome man with hair dyed honey blond and chipper eyes waving at them with both arms like a used car lot inflatable. “Hey! Ask them if they want to join us.”

“Minhyuk,” scoffed the remaining stranger with a roll of his eyes, but Hyunwoo shrugged his mouth.

“What do you say, ladies? We have a cabana over there. Lunch is on its way, and we ordered lots.”

Marie giggled nervously and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I remember how much you said you like eating. I mean, if it’s cool with everybody…”

The brunette looked desperately at Gwen and squeezed her hand tighter than ever, and all eyes looked to the blonde.

“Sure, that’s cool,” said Gwen though she was anything but.

She was burning under the sun though it was nothing to the way she burned under the magnifying glass of cruel fate. Here, before the gentle gaze of the man she had forced herself to walk away from, everything came into calamitous focus.

His laugh, his easiness, his openness, his beauty. Their chemistry, their connection, their compatibility, their flaws.

Maybe Gwen had been a fool in love an embarrassing number of times, but she realized now that maybe all those mistakes had served a purpose. She could see clearly for the first time what all those men had lacked, and she’d be a much bigger fool to turn back a second time from something that felt undeniably different.

“You coming?” Marie called, and only then did Gwen realize Hyunwoo and her friend were already on their way to the cabana.

Beside her, her shot glass waited, smiling as he always seemed to be in her presence with that delicious bellybutton still glistening though this time it was from lingering pool water.

“Didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to ever see you again,” he said.

“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?” Gwen laughed awkwardly as she took the lead and followed her friend.

With his long legs, he caught up in a single stride, and together, they walked the long perimeter of the pool without any complaint.

“Bad at what?” he asked.

“Keeping promises to our friends.”

“Nah. Maybe it was just a dumb promise to make in the first place. And anyway,” he said, looking at her keenly over a bare shoulder, “aren’t you the one who told me no itineraries?”

“Oh yeah,” she said with a red-cheeked chuckle.

I go where my heart leads…

“I take it Hyunwoo’s a part of the bachelor party?” Gwen said.

“Yup. There’s eight of us, including the groom and his brother. You’ll like them, just hopefully not as much as you like me.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And who says I like you?”

“I do. At least, I hope you do. Or maybe I’m just trying to manifest it.”

Gwen smiled shyly and nodded. “You’re right. I do.”

“Kind of funny how this worked out, huh? Your friend and my friend meeting up. Kind of feels like…”

“Blind dumb luck?”

“Destiny.” He studied her for a moment and then returned his eyes to the path around the pool. “I was going to say destiny.”

Her heart was beating out of her chest again, but this time, there was no scolding voice inside her head to temper it.

“You’re still cute,” she blurted.

“And you’re still driving me crazy.” His eyes roved over her skimpily clad figure, and he pressed his lips together. “So… Gwen, huh? That’s a beautiful name. It suits you.”

She was not prepared for the way it would feel to hear her name from his exquisite lips.

The front of her flip-flop rolled, and she stumbled forward with a cry and a flail before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he assured. He stared down at her fondly as she sheltered in the shade of his wide shoulders. Slowly, a smirk crept onto his lips. “Last time, you said it was the heels and you were a sandals girl. What’s your excuse today?”

“I’m clumsy, okay.”

“For everyone or just for me?” he teased. He leaned down, his lips to her hair, and added, “It’s okay if you say just for me. I’m kind of hoping for it.”

Gwen looked up into those brown eyes. The night had brought out their smoky depths, but the day brought out their playful hickory dimensions. So, too, had the merciless sun illuminated the finest spray of freckles dappling his cheek to puffy cheek, to devastating consequence.

“Maybe I’d admit it if I even knew who you were,” she said.

He stopped, and she stopped, too. Gwen looked at him with nervous eyes and an even more skittish heart.

She could forgive herself for all her stupid mistakes if it meant she could just get it right this one time…

Please. Just this once…

He lifted his head, caught her gaze, and closed the gap between them with one big step.

“In that case…”

Slowly, he bent down as his large hands gripped her cheeks, and just as his lips grazed hers gentler than the sea breeze, he spoke.

“So nice to finally meet you, Gwen. I’m Hyungwon.”

A/N: I know, I know. The muse obviously tried to turn this into a whole rom-com novel, but instead, I remained resolute to close this on the whimsical romantic open ending I originally intended. It got too out-of-hand as it was, if you couldn’t tell lol, so let your own romantic hearts take it from here, loves. <3 Thanks for reading!

[bitchinbarzal]

NHL TEAMS WITH DESIGNATED DRIVER PROGRAMS 💙

taken from starryote on twitter

Anaheim Ducks (Honda Center)

Sign Up @ Guest Services in Section 214

Incentive: Entry to a raffle for a $200 gift card to the Ducks Team Store

Discount Codes for Lyft Rides on Holidays (Fourth of July, Labor Day Weekend, Halloween, Thanksgiving Eve, and New Years)

Carolina Hurricanes (PNC Arena)

Sign Up @ The Good Sport Designated Driver Station is located at Section 127, Across from the Guest Services

Incentive: Unknown

Flames (Scotiabank Saddledome) -

Sign Up @ The Budweiser Good Sport Booth

Incentive: A free coupon for a soft drink and will be entered into a draw to win a Good Sport gift package.

LA Kings (STAPLES Center)

Sign Up @ Their Website: cryptoarena.com/arena-info/res…

Incentive: Receive a coupon for one complimentary non-alcoholic beverage (redeemable at select concession stands) & entered into drawings for future games tickets w/ a grand prize of a suite seat

Edmonton Oilers (Rogers Place)

Sign Up @ Guest Services in Section 121, Section 129 or Section 230.

Incentive: Unknown

Canucks (Rogers Arena)

Sign Up @ Guest Services in Sections 104, 114, or 310

Registration is open until the end of first period every game.

Restrictions: Must be 19+ w/ valid drivers license & will be given designated wristbands.

Incentive: Coupon for free drink

Blackhawks (United Center)

Sign Up @ Gates 2 or 6 Guest Relations Booth

Restrictions: Must be 21+

Incentive: A coupon for one free regular size fountain soda

Colorado Avalanche (Pepsi Center)

Sign Up @ The Kiosk in Section 132 near the First Aid Station.

Restrictions: Must be 21+

Incentive: Unknown

Dallas Stars (American Airlines Center)

Sign Up @ Guest Relations

Incentive: Promotional Giveaway Items

Detroit Red Wings (Little Caesars Arena)

Sign Up @ The District Detroit App

Restrictions: Must be 21+

Incentive: Unique Bar Code for free Soda

Panthers (Amerant Bank Arena)

Sign Up @ Guest Relations

Incentive: Free Bottled Water or Soft Drink + Entered to Win Promotional Giveaway Items Monthly & Annually

Ottawa Senators (Canadian Tire Center)

Sign Up @ Guest Services Booth Behind Section 201 in Main Concourse

Incentive: Unknown

Lightning (Amalie Arena)

Sign Up @ Amalie Arena App

Incentive: Free Non-Alcoholic Beverage

Toronto MapleLeafs (Scotiabank Arena)

Sign Up @ Fan Services at Gate 1 or Section 301

Restriction: Must be 19+

Incentive: Free Coors Edge & Entered into a drawing to win a prize at end of the season.

NJ Devils (Prudential Center)

Sign Up @ Outside of Club Lounge East near Section 17.

Incentive: Free Drink Coupon & Entered into a raffle for a prize pack

Pittsburgh Penguins (PPG Paints Arena)

Sign Up @ The Designated Drivers Booth

Incentive: Free Drink Coupon

Washington Capitals (Capital One Arena)

Sign Up @ Responsibility Has Its Rewards booth at Section 108

Incentive: Entered for promotional give–a–ways and prizes.

Seattle Kraken (Climate Arena)

Sign Up @ Guest Services

Incentives: A free public transit ticket for safe transportation home at all publicly ticketed home games

Has a program, but no info:

- San Jose Sharks (SAP Center)

- Golden Knights (T-Mobile Arena)

- Minnesota Wild (Xcel Energy Center)

- Nashville Predators (Bridgestone Arena)

- St Louis Blues (Enterprise Center)

- Winnipeg Jets (Bell MTS Center)

- Boston Bruins (TD Garden)

- Buffalo Sabres (Keybank Center)

- Columbus Blue Jackets (Nationwide Arena)

- New York Rangers (Madison Square)

- Philadelphia Flyers (Wells Fargo Center)

Doesn’t have a dedicated program:

- Montreal Canadiens (Bell Centre)

- New York Islanders (UBS Arena)

[rimouskis]

rimouskis's 10 observations: betting on losing dogs and the swampening of ppg paints arena

after a foiled attempt to attend a NoA in 2019 (which sounds more nefarious than the truth of the matter [I am deeply too much of a coward to go to one of these alone]), Lo, Hark, I made it, baby. in an attempt to convey the experience, which was wonderful, I am doing a drive-by robbery of our favorite game recaps and stealing the format for my nefarious purposes (sharing photos and memories).

come, come, join me:

01. PPG Paints Arena Gets Shrek'd

I can now say I have been greeted at the arena doors by a juggler. that was the first surprise of many that night. the whole joint was honestly really impressively decorated. the event took place entirely on the first floor concourse, and even the bars were decorated to look vaguely new-orleans-y.

special lanterns and decorations were strung across the ceilings; there were enormous french-quarter-esque pillars erected in the halls; there was a fortune teller house with actors inside waving their arms very mysteriously over illuminated crystal balls; there was a woman gliding through the crowd with a skirt made out of servable and drinkable champagne flutes; there were people made out of disco balls wandering around; they flew a band in from new orleans to provide live music; mood lighting GALORE [more on this later].

I was super impressed. you can only do so much with an arena, and especially an arena concourse. they sunk serious time, effort, and undoubtedly money into transforming the arena into a gorgeous louisiana swampland. it was just so cool to see and worth gawking at.

02. Held Captive in the F.N.B Club

@ehghtyseven and I arrived almost-promptly a few minutes after 7. we were between a rock and a hard place: we wanted to take advantage of all the time we could, but also didn't want to be the first ones in. clearly there was nothing to worry about, though, because crowds were already moving through the gates. that was a balm to both of us, as we were kind of worried it'd be an intimate evening and I'd be forced to make smalltalk with penguins right and left.

("So, uh, what do you do?" sid would ask. I would stare at him, unsure how to explain the banalities of corporate life. I would walk away. He would be offput.)

we walked inside and immediately I got effusive compliments on both my shoes and my earrings. ah, I thought to myself, even the arena employees are in on it. they know how to butter up prospective donors to spend more money at charity events. but, in their defense: my shoes and earrings were both great, haha. we were handed some complimentary penguins-branded casino chips and sent on our merry way.

it was then that we went rogue. semi-accidentally. they weren't really herding us one way or another, you see, and as the night had only just begun, it wasn't too crowded yet. I looked at wendy. wendy looked at me. we mutually agreed that we should get a lay of the land. off we set.

we wandered around the concourse and looked at all the stations, abandoned and with signs saying play would begin at 8. we then ducked into the captain morgan club (which is one of the two clubs at the arena that normally are limited to ticketholders for those seats) to take a peek. it was made even more pirate-y than usual, I can only assume, and we got in line for drinks. the line did not move. (the poor folks staffing the bar needed reinforcements). we decided to keep moving and looped around the other half of the concourse to try our luck at the F.N.B. club. somehow that line was worse? penguins, please give more of your bartenders overtime to work charity events?

eh, we thought, we'll just keep walking around.

nope. no can do. they were herding us into the clubs like heifers in a cow chute. and, in fact, something dire was about to befall us:

03. The Penguin Parade

have you ever had a bunch of famous/famous-ish people trotted out in front of you like kindergarteners being shepherded across a suburban street? no? let me illustrate it.

iceburgh emerges with a bejeweled new orleans parasol above his head. out come colby and dan. I think colby is, like, roughly four drinks deep. maybe five. he and dan get through a very awkwardly scripted "thank you for giving us money:) please give us more:)" speech and then the processional of penguins begins.

they're announced in ascending numerical order, which of course leaves sid for last (no three years superleague will win geno that honor here). they all wander out and stare up into the stands, where we donors look down upon them like emperors at bloodied gladiators in the coliseum. I hold out my thumb and point down, signaling my displeasure. sid is immediately taken out back and s—

no no I'm joking. we all clap and woooo at them. geno spins in circles as he enters so he can wave at everyone, but he does it in a way that feels DISTINCTLY put-upon and tired. you know how some pets absolutely know they're being made fun of when you put stupid outfits on them? how they'll give you that deadpan look that says "I know what you are doing to me, it is cruel, but I have no choice but to weather it" ?

geno was that pet. long-suffering, exhausted, wants to go aggressively smack a card table instead of wander about in his special special jersey.

one of the new owners (from FSG) gets up to say some words. he's a horrendous speaker, so I retain none of it, but I suppose if you're a billionaire you don't need to be eloquent or engaging. #eattherich. he tells everyone what some of the various players will be doing tonight around the concourse, and he throws in a very weak joke when he gets to explaining how geno will be manning one of the blackjack tables.

"and geno," this offensively wealthy man says, "try to keep it PG tonight."

I desperately, painfully wish I had a photo of the expression geno made. with the jumbotron camera trained on him, geno gives this man the most DISDAINFUL FROWN I have seen on his face. ever. he was NOT IMPRESSED. this man was NOT FUNNY. geno is a WORKING CLASS, BLUE COLLAR MAN and will not stand for billionaires saying he has to keep it family-friendly at a 21-and-up event! viva la revolución, baby.

sid, meanwhile, is making goo-goo eyes at jeff and giggling all over the place. also a few drinks deep, methinks. after a bit, the players are mercifully released from the grasp of the arena lights and flee back into the locker room, likely to take a few more shots to get ready to mingle for two hours straight.

we, the unmerciful coliseum audience, are freed from our club.

it's time to party.

04. Dan the Man

wendy and I made a break for it, finally let loose from our enclosure. we darted away and moved past some evil looking betting game being set up [more on that later], through a section of food that we couldn't eat [more on THAT later], and finally took up our posts at a cocktail table to get our bearings.

this was when we realized we'd put ourselves right by the elevators.

there were VIPs in attendance; they were schmoozing in the actual club seats a level above us for an hour before we plebeians were let inside. they began spilling out of the elevators in their evening gowns and suits, and wendy realized there were penguins among them.

we watched jason run off, and then drew, and then others. they scattered to the wind to their assigned games for the night. we tittered and surreptitiously watched. I complimented two different women's outfits (#girlpower #girlsgirl). we turned and realized dan and colby were posted up at the bar behind us.

dan caught us looking. wendy waved; dan waved back. thus our interaction blossomed.

when we went over to talk to him, he was incredibly nice and NOT very trickster godlike. he's miles-less confusing when he's not asking interview questions. and he's incredibly personable! he tried to get us excited to see connor mcdavid, though, which is something an evil trickster god would attempt at an event with sidney crosby in attendance. so perhaps I can be convinced after all.

05. FRENEMIES: Craps Edition

that evil betting game? yeah, that's craps. shitty name for a game, if you ask me. the last time I was in a casino, I was 16 (don't ask) so I had no idea what was going on. nonetheless, when we heard loud voices, we were drawn close like moths to a flame.

that flame was the not-so-dulcet tones of one mr. jason zucker and one mr. bryan rust. these two goofballs were "running" the craps table, by which I mean jason had been armed with the dice stick and they were being heavily coached by who I could only assume was an employee from rivers casino, lol.

it made me feel a little better that said employee was gently cajoling some people on the other side of the table. "you ready to play yet? got it figured out?" he asked. no, man. no one gets this without a 15-step breakdown. stop making me do math. why does this board say COME in huge red letters? what the fuck is a COME bet? what the fuck is a DON'T COME bet? is this a sex game? why are jason and rusty hosting a sex game?

here's jason catching me sneaking a photo of him hosting a sex game. my middle name is subtlety.

06. A Crisis of Sexuality and Chutzpah

I'm a seasoned penguins-watcher, okay? I've lived here for years, I've been to more games and practices than I can count, I've held doors for them in restaurants and walked past them in bars, and I like to pretend I have a scrap or two of composure about interacting with the players.

ha ha. hoo. wa ha ha.

so, that sid guy, right? crazy. he's, like, just some guy. just a dude. just a funky little guy.

he's also the most handsome man I've ever laid eyes on.

I can't quite articulate what my brain did when we came upon sid's Wheel O' Fun, which he was manning alone the first time we swung by (the second time jake had joined him after being freed from his shift at the milkshake factory making jake shakes [like for real]).

he was all smiles and was working the crowd (and there WAS a huge crowd around him) effortlessly. he'd lean in across his Protective Barrier of Folding Tables and take photos with folks between spins. as the night went on he'd even place people's bets for them as the crowd grew deeper. he was furiously chomping on a piece of gum the entire time (his masseter muscles have to be unbelievable).

what really threw me is that he isn't a big guy. he doesn't come off as large at all. objectively I know he's sturdy, but... those hockey pads and oversized jerseys really help you overestimate their size.

he was a crowd favorite for good reason. funny, was a good sport the whole evening, engaging and friendly, has a well-deserved air of confidence about him. he's got chutzpah. I, uh, didn't talk to him though. if he looked in my direction I immediately became preoccupied with something very important elsewhere, like a nearby woman's hat or which chips I was placing on the table. I couldn't handle it, I'm so sorry. he's really beautiful. ugh. who am I. is this what I'm reduced to. what siren song does he sing that enraptures me so. what's wrong with me. what's wrong with him.

weirdo. ugh. <3

07. PPG Paints is for Carnivorous Beasts Only

listen I don't know what I expected when the theme of the night was mardi gras. like, what about new orleans cuisine screams "vegetarian"? nothing! so I was not surprised when the food selections were everything from shrimp gumbo to jambalaya (chicken) to ALLIGATOR (!!!!) and nary a vegetarian option in sight.

disappointed but not surprised! I did have a few tiny beignets (good) and a slice of king cake (meh) but I was mostly running on the poptart I'd eaten before the event, lmao.

this is not new with the arena; ever since The Yard's arena location closed, vegetarian dining has been dire there for games. their pizza is bad, don't get it. in fact, next time you come to a game, don't get arena food. do yourself the service of eating beforehand. emporio never fails and if you need to be closer, go to moonlit burgers. up your game, ppg paints!

also since I had, like, one RC cola all night and not a drop of alcohol, I probably didn't recoup the cost of my ticket lol. dear pens offer me a discount next time I'M A CHEAP DATE I PROMISE

08. Evgeni Malkin's Blackjack Table

I had quietly made a rule for myself.

if I was committing financially to this event, if I was going to the trouble and stretching my budget and going all in, I had to go all in.

I had to play at evgeni malkin's blackjack table. I just had to. there was no way I couldn't. we came upon his table for the second time that night and posted up at a corner to watch, just like we had the first time we passed him. I eyed the players and waited for someone to give up a seat as I tried to remember the details of the "How to Play Blackjack" youtube tutorial I'd watched an hour earlier.

(I remembered, like, two rules. memory bad + star struck = bad combo).

the thing about geno, you see, is that he's a performer at heart. the drama? that's just him, doll. that's his personality. he was a dramatic dealer. he pretended to steal chips. he was LIGHTNING QUICK at mental math. he'd slap down a card and immediately move through with confidence. probably a solid 30% of it was unfounded, but it came off as both professional and intense... and still approachable, because he was being a little intentionally goofy.

he was also directly under one of the colored light beams they had set up in mardi gras colors around the arena. listen, learn some color theory with me: yellow light is SHIT for seeing colors. poor geno couldn't tell one chip from the next and kept having to squint at them to figure out what was up. it played into the goofiness very well. he rolled with it.

he kept a very good energy at the table. all the attendees were getting a kick out of him and the game, and geno ran it as a proper game. he'd reward you if you won, but he'd take your chips if you lost. his huge hands moved the cards clumsily. he sometimes threw them at people. y'know. Just Geno Things.

a chair freed up. I hesitated. someone else sat down. fuck. I continued my vigilant watch. I needed to do this, I reminded myself. I'd never forgive myself if I went to NoA and didn't play at geno's table. WHO DOES THAT? not me. no way.

a second chair freed up. I pounced.

I was in.

and, fuck, now I had to remember how to play blackjack.

he dealt me my first card. I looked at it with a healthy mixture of fear and curiosity. he dealt me my second card. I added them together. I tried to figure out if I should ask for more cards. sure, why not?

wrong. I went over 21. bust. I lose. I've just lost in front of evgeni malkin. that is the correct way of the world, I SHOULD in fact lose in front of (and to) evgeni malkin, but I couldn't go out like that. no way. I stayed put in my seat. deal me more cards, dealer. I have something to prove.

he was also kind of sweet, because I was absolutely the only person under 30, if not under 40, at this table, and I think they could smell my inexperience lol. he sort of nodded at me to make a move the next round and keep adding cards. I heeded it. people at the table started making noise. something was happening. I didn't really know what, but there was excitement in the air. I "held" instead of "hit" when it felt right. geno continued on. the man next to me had a bust. geno did something with his own cards, and WOW!

I won the round!

people literally congratulated me. it was deeply undeserved. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. even in retrospect I don't know what I did. but whatever it was was good, and I earned my first chip. hallelu!

I'm not a betting gal, but I know that you cash out when you're up. on that high note, I got up and took my leave. I'd done it. I'd played at geno's table. I'd WON at geno's table. the world was my oyster etc.

so, here is me [just out of frame] getting a smile out of geno as he nudges me along at blackjack <3

[photo credit to wendy <3]

09. America's Sweetheart, Brian Dumoulin

the night was winding down, and wendy had been very conservative with her chips, whereas I'd blown through mine [this is why I don't gamble, kids]. we need to find a table, I told her. we had bets to make!

and, serendipitously, dumo was hanging out at a somewhat poorly-attended table at that very moment.

dumo was so great. he lacked any of the confidence geno had at blackjack but more than made up for it with his sweet easygoing conversation and a truly great smile. he was CHARMING. like, I genuinely felt he was interested in talking to attendees and having a good time. the vibes were fabulous. I know I've been a little harsh on him hockey-wise this season, but wow, the babygirl truthers got me with this one. he's a goddamn sweetheart. long live dumo, who winced every time he beat you at blackjack.

10. Kris Letang's School for Beautiful Women

after exhausting our chips, saying farewell to dumo, and watching geno get dragged by security with a firm grip on his arm away from fans wanting photos as soon as the clock struck 10 [the official end of the event, because geno is a union man who doesn't work overtime], we wandered the slowly-deserting halls.

geno may have been dragged away, and sid may have been gone from his post, but kris? oh, buddy, you were NOT dragging him from his blackjack table. no sir. he had games to win, you see, and judgemental faces to make at his players, and women to charm.

so, so many women.

his table had a higher ratio of women to men than I'd seen at any other, lol. and they were all having a BALL as he was holding court. he raked one high better over the coals with pleasure as he took her chips. you can be the most beautiful woman in the arena, but kris letang will be more beautiful and will beat you at blackjack.

he was clearly great entertainment, as both kappy and POJ came to watch him work. (and to fetch him drinks). he, as all the boys, honestly, was an excellent schmoozer. they're very good at this. I think they know they work in professional entertainment. I didn't have a bad or sideways interaction all night.

it was a fabulous night. I had so much fun. the penguins did a wonderful job, the players were all lovely, and I also won a signed jersey, so hey, everyone was a winner.

brava, fellas. make sure to pay geno overtime for his post-10 o'clock photo ops.

[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished pt 31

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 31/?? Word Count 1373]

—————

Barb didn’t get a call from Striker for days. Is this some dating strategy thing? she wondered as days ticked by. Almost a week after the Harvest Moon Festival, he finally called her number.

“Hey there little lady,” his country drawl had a static quality over the phone. “Hope you didn’t get too anxious waitin’ for me. Things’re busy even after the Harvest Moon ‘round here.”

Oh it’s definitely a dating strategy, Barb thought to herself, her expression twisted into a grimace. “Not at all.” She did her best to sound cheerful and nonchalant. Two could play the juvenile dating game. “Despite the name, we’ve got plenty going on in Sloth.”

“Well, you got enough space in your schedule for Striker? Maybe a visit up here?”

Barb laughed. “For more dirt and farms? It’ll take more than that cowboy. Besides, shouldn’t the gentleman call on the lady?”

“S’pose you’re right. I don’t get to Sloth much but if you’ve got something in mind, I’m all ears.”

“I know some places. How about the day after tomorrow? I’ll show you around.” She had group tomorrow and a solo counseling session the next morning, but her afternoon and evening that day were free. Striker agreed and they settled on meeting in the elevator concourse around five.

Striker showed up a little after five; his outfit was basically the same thing he wore in Wrath. Barb was back into her preferred miniskirt and high heeled boots. She didn’t miss his eyes nearly popping out at the sight of her. He recovered quickly and shifted to an appraising look.

“So!” He said cheerfully as he got closer. “You said you know some places, Barb? Not just napping spots in this Ring I hope.”

“You say that with disbelief.” Barb turned sharply, her heels clacking on the pavement. “Keep up cowboy!” She led the way, taking the Wrathian club hopping. Trance music was popular in Sloth, along with the drugs to enhance it. She managed to avoid slip ups by skipping out to another club or bar once the drugs started flowing too freely.

Striker stuck out almost everywhere they went; doubly so at dance clubs. Barb managed to get some drinks into him and he loosened up enough to bob his head to the beats at least. Not enough to step onto the dance floors but he had no problem watching her.

“Awright, I’ll hand it to you,” he slurred as they made their way back to the elevator concourse. “It’s less boring than I thought here. Weird as shit, but not boring.” He gave her a seductive grin. “Wanna make it less weird tonight? I figure your place can’t be too far if you’re walkin’.”

Barb chuckled and leaned against him as they walked. She wasn’t nearly as drunk as she was acting; all those years gave her an amazing tolerance for drugs and alcohol. “I’m busy tomorrow.” Her arm was pressed up against his side and she could feel the hard outline of a knife beneath his jacket. “You’ll just have to come see me again.”

They stopped outside the concourse. She turned to press her chest up against his. She leaned in, going on hoof tip to bring their faces close. Barb gave him a wicked grin of her own and kissed him. Her tongue swirled around his as she pulled his head down to her. Ugh, when’s the last time he used a breath mint? Still, she gave him a good enough kiss to leave him wanting more.

When she broke the kiss, Barb stroked her hands down his chest. The movement was sensuous but got them at arm's length. It also let her feel under his jacket. Knife on one side, maybe pistol on the other? She flicked a claw at his chest as she turned away. “Make sure not to leave me waiting this time!”

Either that kiss was as amazing or Striker had another motive to see her soon. Two days later, he called again. They went on a few more dates before Barb suggested a sex club as one of their destinations. Striker agreed with a smug attitude. After a few rounds of drinks, the imps slipped into an open room.

Bad breath notwithstanding, Striker was an attractive demon. He wasn’t Barb’s usual type but that didn’t stop her. The sex was enthusiastic enough that she couldn’t complain. And by the look on Striker’s face, she’d lived up to expectations as well.

While he laid on the bed catching his breath, Barb slipped off to rummage through the pile of clothes. They’d tossed clothes off haphazardly on their way to the bed. She had to hunt for her panties but it gave her an excuse to handle Striker’s clothes while she did.

His jacket was underneath her dress; before tossing it onto the bed for him she looked inside. There was a holster inside, holding both the angelic knife she’d spotted before and a pair of black pistols. The pure white wing decals on the grips glowed; these had to be blessed like the knife. Barb glanced up at the bed. Striker was still panting but his breathing was getting easier. He hadn’t seemed to notice her absence yet at least.

She started piling his clothes on the bed as she found them. His shirt and boxers didn’t have anything unusual, not that she could tell from a quick look. She could feel keys and a phone in the pockets of his trousers. His vest seemed to have a second phone in the pocket. Angelic weapons and a second phone? Barb would have loved to take a peek at the phones but it wasn’t an option. She could only assume that’s what the thick rectangular shape was.

She dumped the vest on top of the rest of his clothes. “I think that’s all your stuff.” Barb hooked her bra band before spinning the cups to the front.

“What’s the hurry?” Striker stretched out lazily, his tail stroking down her spine. “Thought everyone moved slow in this Ring.”

Barb snorted as she pulled her dress on. “Yeah, until something they want is involved. And we’re at a sex club, we might have others wanting to join in.”

“Yer fuckin’ with me.” The male imp sat bolt upright and grabbed for his clothes.

“Already did. And no; some of the shit people use down here makes them super weird and extra horny.” Fully dressed now, Barb stretched out. “Besides, I’m hot stuff. You’re not bad either cowboy. Plenty Slothites want a taste of this.”

Striker scrambled into his clothes while muttering about “it’s always a sex thing.” They had some more drinks out in the club. Barb was proven right as more that one demon came around asking if she wanted to hop into a room. Striker got propositioned too and the look of panic on his face made everyone give him a wide radius of space.

Back at her dorm, Barb wrote down what she’d found out that night in her notebook. There was a growing list of suspicions she had on Striker. The possible second phone and the angelic weaponry were the most concrete evidence of sketchy behavior so far. As she drew what she remembered of the pistols’ decals, she debated about telling Blitzø.

————

“You’d best have something more for me this time.”

“Eh, I told you ma’am, been slow going. She’s smart, doesn’t let much slip. I did figure out one thing.” Striker paused dramatically but the Goetia merely huffed at the other end of the line. “Looks like boy toy’s sis has been in rehab. Pretty bad drug habit.” He’d seen scarring on her arms that he recognized from other heavy users. With her avoidance of drugs when they were out and the fact that they stayed in the Sloth Ring each date, Striker could connect the dots.

“Might be useful for ya, since he seems so concerned about his sis. ‘Specially if she were to relapse.” Striker mused to his benefactor and was rewarded with an approving hum.

“Some useful information. Nicely done, this gives me some amusing options.” After she gave him instructions on when next to contact her, the call cut off abruptly.

—————

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[theeldritchcorvid]

The Train Story

So I thought I'd have a crack at telling a story from my past in hopes it'll make you laugh. I am inspired here by the masterful work of @inbabylontheywept and @gallusrostromegalus who have such evocative writing styles that I can never hope to match. So here we are. TW for brief suicide mention.

The year is [REDACTED FOR PRIVACY] but all you need to know really is that it was Autumn and Unseasonably Warm for Autumn and that this story is set in the UK because that's where it happened. My mother and I had been preparing a series of trips to university open days, which would ordinarily be done in Summer but I was paralysed with fear about university so we were a touch late to the party.

This specific trip was to Bristol. Our route took us via Paddington Station, and I like that station because it actually has a little statue of Paddington Bear there. And he's my favourite little guy. Anyway, I digress.

It was an early start - how early I can't actually recall - but I was kind of annoyed anyway because it was Saturday and I was missing Drama Club (I would later learn I missed auditions for a scene from the Addams Family) but here we were anyway.

The first clue of Something occurring was when we arrived on the concourse and no trains were leaving. And there was a huge crowd clustered around the line at Departures. There had been a fire on the line, meaning no trains could leave.

The crowds grew. Time ticked on. I did some maths and realised we were doomed to miss our tour of the anatomy building. We considered booking it. We were assuaged from this by the unexpected arrival of one of my friends, who was also en route to Bristol.

A train did, eventually, leave, an hour behind schedule, and that train was so packed there were people standing from London to Bristol. Which, for those unaware, is just about TWO HOURS. At one point the train stopped at Bath and people had to fight their way out of our carriage because we were at the front of the train and the platform was short.

Eventually, though, we survived. We had a lovely open day, of which the details are irrelevant, and we headed for home.

which, of course, was when the trouble started.

It is useful to the story to know that I was without a means of communication at this time. My mum had her phone, but mine was getting repaired and thus out of the picture. So I had to retell this story by recount after the fact to my peers on discord, which is where I am retrieving the details. It may not be accurate as to what happened next in reality. But we are here for comedy not my autobiography so Here Fucking Goes.

We are sitting on the train back, and around Bath we hear someone over the Tannoy ask for the conductor to come to the driver's carriage. We know not why. Soon after, we are told our train will be stopping at Swindon. SWINDON. Which is, for the record, a LONG way out of London.

We stop. We are told another train will be along soon and to catch that. Which we do. Unfortunately, this train is already pretty packed, and we are stuck standing - my back is pressed against the wall, hanging on to a handrail for dear fucking life.

In hindsight, that train being half an hour delayed should have been a clue that something was up.

We get to Reading with the standard 'stuck-standing-in-a-packed-train' difficulty, shuffling around to let people disembark. Then we stop at Reading. We do not leave.

It is discovered someone had committed suicide further down the line, as well as ANOTHER FIRE, halting all trains at Reading. We are encouraged to get off the train and get some air. Another train, we are told, is going to Waterloo, London. That, we assume, is our best bet.

Everyone else has assumed the same thing. The scrum at the ticket-gates is worthy of a zombie apocalypse movie. Nobody is let through. The station staff aren't letting us - the Waterloo train is already rammed. Then, the announcement:

"We are able to run two trains to Paddington from platforms 11 and 10".

Or something like that. I think at this point I was starting to dissociate. People start moving - nay, running. Mum and I try to be calm, but we are caught up and start running too. I am laughing. I remember that. Like Vincent Price in Thriller. Like the Joker. Like the Dentist in Little Shop of Horrors.

We get on the train. We get seats. The train leaves, and there is a cheer from the carriage. I burst into tears. We ring my father, let him know we're going back to London. We're alive. We get down to the Elizabeth line, there's a train there... and it's broken down. Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw, I think.

We change lines. We divert. I have never been so thankful for the London Underground in my life. Eventually, we get on a train home. It is now dark. We rattle on through the darkness.

then

the

train

stops.

in the dark. and the train driver comes over the tannoy, he is apologetic: someone in the train ahead has pulled the emergency stop and is now running around on the tracks.

the dam bursts. I collapse into a fit of hysterical giggles, laughing about how we're cursed. I explain the entire thing to a group of middle-aged butch lesbians in our train car. I can't remember how they reacted, but I think they thought it was funny.

we get home at eight pm. I eat so much Chinese food I feel sick, and tell the whole sorry story to my friends over discord. Mum got refunded for the whole sorry mess.

And I didn't go to the university of Bristol, for those curious.

[fuckyeswednesday13]

🗣Only 28 days Away USA‼️


See Wednesday 13 performing a full set of Murderdolls songs LIVE this October-December

Support from @geminisyndrome @infectedrain_official and @blacksatellite

🗣Tickets and VIPS on sale NOW through the venues.

Officialwednesday13.com

Fri 20th Oct - LOS ANGELES, CA - The Whisky

Sat 21st Oct - LAS VEGAS, NV - Count’s Vamp’d

Sun 22nd Oct - RENO, NV - Virginia Street Brewhouse

Tue 24th Oct - PORTLAND, OR - Bossanova Ballroom

Wed 25th Oct - SEATTLE, WA - El Corazon

Fri 27th Oct - ROSEVILLE, CA - Goldfield Trading Post

Sat 28th Oct - SAN JOSE, CA - The Ritz

Sun 29th Oct - SAN DIEGO, CA - Brick By Brick

Tue 31st Oct - PHOENIX, AZ - The Nile Theater

Wed 1st Nov - ALBUQUERQUE, NM - Launch Pad

Fri 3rd Nov - DALLAS, TX - Sundown At Grenada

Sat 4th Nov - HOUSTON, TX - Warehouse Live

Sun 5th Nov - AUSTIN, TX - Come And Take It Live

Mon 6th Nov - Tulsa OK- Shrine

Tue 7th Nov - LAWRENCE, KS - The Bottleneck

Thu 9th Nov - MINNEAPOLIS, MN - Skyway Theater

Fri 10th Nov - MADISON, WI - The Annex

Sat 11th Nov - JOLIET, IL - The Forge

Sun 12th Nov - BLOOMINGTON, IL - Castle Theater

Tue 14th Nov - RACINE, WI - Route 20

Wed 15th Nov - FLINT, MI - Machine Shop

Thu 16th Nov - CLEVELAND, OH - The Foundry

Fri 17th Nov - PITTSBURGH, PA - Crafthouse

Sat 18th Nov - LITITZ, PA -Mickeys Black Box

Sun 19th Nov - CLIFTON, NJ - Dingbats

Wed 22nd Nov - SPARTANBURG, SC - Ground Zero

Fri 24th Nov - WINSTON-SALEM, NC - Millennium Center

Sat 25th Nov - RICHMOND, VA - Canal Club

Sun 26th Nov - LEESBURG, VA - Tally Ho

Tue 28th Nov- Atlanta Ga - Masquerade

Thu 30th Nov -KNOXVILLE, TN- The Concourse

Fri 1st Dec - LOUISVILLE, KY - Headliners Music Hall

Sat 2nd Dec - COLUMBUS, OH - The King Of Clubs

Sun 3rd Dec - INDIANAPOLIS, IN - Hi Fi Annex

Tue 5th Dec - DES MOINES, IA - Lefty’s Live Music

Wed 6th Dec - LINCOLN, NE - Bourbon Theater

Fri 8th Dec - DENVER, CO – Oriental Theater

Sat 9th Dec - COLORADO SPRINGS, CO - Black Sheep

Art by @jonnybush

[longlivetv]

Because post concert high is real, here is a brief synopsis of my Eras experience:

Had a random 3pm meal at Dennys 9/10, would repeat

Approached stadium, not one parking attendant could tell us where ADA parking was. One lady told us to park where Taylor parks, which was clearly incorrect. The guy guarding her parking area directed us to an overpriced lot in which we ended up trapped after the show for an hour and a half. 2/10, would definitely advise against

Tried to meet up with @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes and @fitsinthepalm but could not due to much concourse traffic, and the fact my disabled friends had already had to cover much more ground then anticipated and could not wander around anymore. Cell service was shit, didn’t get most of the messages until k got home. Have bracelets for you, please DM for mailing. 13/10 for concept, 0/10 for execution.

Now things take a turn for the better. Found the correct escalator, and the nice lady working there informed us that the agent at the top of the stairs could probably re-seat us in ADA seating so that my friend Q who uses crutches did not have to climb to section 227 row 30 where our tickets were. We were, in fact, re-seated to section C25 row W5, which was on the club level, much easier for Q to access, and more side stage but also much closer. 15/10 for the stadium personnel who helped us once we were inside.

Had a blast during Gayle and Phoebe’s sets, got water and was able to pee in a womens bathroom at a Taylor Swift concert without waiting in line. 10/10

TAYLOR HOLY SHIT 1300/10

Q proposed to Z during Love Story, I cried, another lovely Swiftie on the other side of Q also filmed. The person next to me lost their mind and a cheer went up around us and it was beautiful. 💜/10

GREEN! DRESS! 10/10 for our fairy Princess

Nothing New *chefs kiss* no notes

Couldn’t tell exactly what was up during Bad Blood but were pleased to stan an artist that has her eye on the crowd and intervened even though she shouldn’t need to. 13/10 for Taylor, -10/10 for security

Solid Surprise Songs, Q and Z danced during This Love

Stuck around to scream for Taylor as she left 13/10 got some solid pics

Exit from stadium was closer than anticipated to parking, 8/10

Trapped in parking lot for an hour and a half no one moving. 1/10

Finally got home at 3am, it is now almost 4, I finally understand why Taylor can’t sleep after shows 🌟/10

[freeworldallahmbaclass]

And another one

Proposal for New MTA automobiles , vans , buses and electric trains and Mass Transit services

All trains from the A train to the F train , J Train , Z Train be changed into a newer shell more cleaner , faster and more modern trains with Television on the train with channels from NY 1 news channel ABC News Channel Fox News Channel WPIX News Channel

Joyce Meyer TV show on the train 🚆🚂

Joel Osteen on the train we already have stores in his name in New York City now we could get his show and sermons live on the train or catch the reruns on the next train if you miss your train don't miss the chance for a better life in your city and country

I just finished Joel Osteen Peaceful on purpose and rule your day two very thin books probably 100 pages book that you could breeze through going to read it again it is a easy book and I'm asking all New Yorkers to read it share it and to use it in our daily interactions with each other it will help develop a new mindset and you can enjoy your day on your way home or to work with a victorious mindset and behavior live a life of victory and don't forget to start a book club and add on Joel Osteen and Joyce Meyer in your book list in your book bag if you are a student or purse and pockets on your way to exercise .

ESPN channels with all sport shows like sports center in the train that is great for all New Yorkers erasing all tension and anxiety depression and frustration of all commuters and not to mention the upgrade for New York City and any country and cities transit system it help reduce crime and bring more businesses to those cities not to mention the millions made for the advertising industry . I see that they have a new store in NYC next to the library Disney Haunted Mansion that is going to be great for the family for the kids they are going to love it they will scream and enjoy it love it and laugh and have fun Justin Bieber song Ghost 👻 brought this all about so I want to be there . Imagine trains with views of the graffiti in the tunnels of the train station like make that a tourist attraction on the new trains for MTA you could look at the tunnels graffiti like it's a museum 🖼️🎨 art exhibit with special effects sites by MTA workers showcasing the best graffiti the world has ever seen enhancing the commute experience for all New Yorkers .

Trains running on Grand Concourse a New station the outside rails carrying electric 💡 ⚡ trains 🚂 Travel Routes include New Jersey , Connecticut , Example of New trains and their names

The Golden Eagle 🦅 The Aurora The Fury The Storm ⛈️ The Rock Climber The Great Bear The Laser The Vision The Messenger The Sunflower The Sparkle The Dynasty The Vortex The Phoenix The Knight The Hunter The Polar The Diplomat The Paradise Coast The Liberty The Jade Garden 🪴 The Frost fire The Ambassador The Hawk The Rage The Ghost 👻🎃 The Angel The Warrior

Cabin rooms doors to private cabin rooms with 4 passenger seats with Tvs in the cabin , cushion chairs with cushioned headrest and recliner chairs and modern pop , R and B , and Gospel Music , Rock and Roll stations playing over a system in the background in the cabin .

Fully carpeted train with a diner on board for fried foods and drinks and other refreshments , and restaurants on board . Salons and Barbershops on board as well as Newspaper news stands with magazines , candy and sodas lounge area for tv watching sports , the news and nature channels with water kingdoms and traveling to foreign countries channels .

Book of the month Joel Osteen empty out the negative it means let go of the negative influences and negative people in your life that hold you back with me is to get these tyrants and puppet masters off of me and truly live the message that Joel Osteen is preaching I just read some of it from chapter 2 to 4 and wonder can I be let go of please if you other than a person that follow his message in that please let me go so I could live my life and yeah it could save your life Don't feed on poisons chapter 3 to 4 is good for you unclog your heart drink water and do light exercise just walking is a start but also clean out out your inside as well from the filthy anxiety look at the definition of anxiety , the hurting people feelings and blocking my path in my life if their is book that will save a life it would be this one book in fact get his whole collection I got all his books , Joyce Meyer and Victoria Osteen books I kinda teach now to get the voodoo and mind control off of me I don't want to think like my enemy about myself , no thanks read the book and change your life .

According to Social Psychology people and your environment make you who you are and I'm against that especially if your from an environment where people are hateful towards you verbal abusive and telling you that is the best that life has to offer you no their is a better life for you I want a new kind of community and environment it is people like me that change where we live and put the people and our community on the right path call it a new social psychology thinking like my pastor Joyce Meyer or Joel Osteen and Victoria Osteen about me and other people I only have good things for you in my heart and your future . I truly believe you have to reeducate the people and teach them to build the kingdom of God on this earth 🌍 the Muslims do try but they needed help and plus it is effecting me and my mental health and physical health and I have to speak out against it so read the book empty out the negative by Joel Osteen their books and live it out you got it from me , thank you and remember nature can be changed by nurture and nourishing yourself with love and a good education you can change your life and be successful you heard it from me you can be anything you want to be and beat any disease and incurable illness of the mind and the body especially now with the cure for HIV Aids and be freed from the curse of the death of the spirit through spiritually depressed neighborhoods read the book and love your friends family and even the stranger on the street with your words behavior and attitudes , thank you let's practice social psychology together in a better way take this words home and practice them instead of creating social schizophrenics mumbling and talking to themselves in self hatred and living less than their best potential lets treat each other better and want the best for each other each human and race period that is how it is suppose to be on this planet .

[smacksfc]

The company party. I enjoy the company dime. (at The Madison Concourse Hotel and Governor's Club) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn8hLH7Nu6ArDxJeeyRUunQ4DgjQjes8eCJdCI0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[jamesv-t]

Football Survey 2022

For the last decade, if not longer, I’ve done an end of year gig survey, giving a bit of an overview of the gigs I’ve attended this year. For the first time since I had a half season-ticket for Gillingham’s glorious promotion winning season of 1999-2000, I’ve attended more football matches than gigs in a calendar year - so I thought, why not rejig the survey for football? 

Top 5 games of the year?

England 2 Germany 1 aet, Wembley, 31st July

BSG Chemie Leipzig 1 Berliner Dynamo 1, Alfred-Kunze-Sportpark, 13th March

Arsenal  7 Aston Villa 0, Meadow Park, 1st May

Germany 4 Denmark 0, Brentford Community Stadium, 8th July

Arsenal 2 Ajax Amsterdam 2, Meadow Park, 20th September

Total number of matches?

Eleven, first year in ages I’ve hit double digits!

First match of the year?

Chemie Leipzig 1 Berliner Dynamo 1, 13th March

Last match of the year?

Arsenal 1 Everton 0, 3rd December

Most surprising game?

I honestly didn’t expect England to come out on top in the Euro 2022 final!

Most disappointing?

England 0 Czech Republic 0, 11th October. I’ve had hangovers more fun than that.

Farthest travelled?

Alfred-Kunze-Sportpark in Leipzig, 600 miles/1,000 km from my front door.

States attended games in?

Cheerful, grateful, euphoric, drunk, bored, knackered and achy.

Stadium most visited?

Amex/Falmer Community stadium in Brighton and Meadow Park in London, both three times.

Worst injury?

I had a horrible attack of hay-fever during the second half of the Germany vs Denmark game that sent me scrambling for antihistamines in a nearby Sainsburys afterwards. This was mid July, in the middle of a hot spell that I thought had burnt up all plant life in the country, and after not being affected by hay-fever all year prior to that I thought I was safe - evidently not!

Most expensive ticket?

The Euro 2022 final ticket was £25, that was my highest. The perks of watching women’s football! (Or 4th tier German men’s football)

Player seen the most?

I saw Lena Oberdorf play four times for club and country - the first two, in club colours, I didn’t really appreciate her style, but I came around quickly after she tucked Pernille Harder in her pocket for Germany! I think Leah Williamson and Beth Mead top her with six appearances apiece. Shoutout to Karen Holmgaard who was the only player I saw play twice for two different clubs - Turbine Potsdam in May, and Everton in December. She didn’t make it off the bench for Germany’s massacre of Denmark, otherwise I would’ve seen her play three times for three different teams, with a combined scoreline of 0-9 in those games! 

Best new discovery?

Definitely Lena Oberdorf! Her tough-tackling style, complete with Wob buying up two of my other favourite German players (Merle Frohms and Jule Brand), plus my partner being in awe of Wassmuth’s cheekbones and Jonsdottir’s...general awesomness, means that I’ve been streaming more Wolfsburg games than I expected this autumn.

Bands seen this year that also broke up this year?

I’m not sure how to make this football related, but I’m open to suggestions.

Friends made at games?

I don’t know if they count, as I knew Joel online before the matches, but in May I flew to Cologne all alone for the German cup final (Wolfsburg vs Turbine Potsdam). A 50,000 seater stadium, and I knew only one other person there. Walking out of the toilets before the match, guess who I bump into? We sat together and had a great time, even if the result didn’t go our way. Two months later, having sat with Jamie, Mary, Adam and friends before the match, I made my way around the Wembley concourse to find my gate for the Euros final when I hear my name shouted from a queue. Guess who it was?!

Footballers met?

Tricky, in this post-COVID era, and with the general increase in popularity of the women’s game this will become rarer. But after the Arsenal vs Villa game at the end of last season I met and got a photo with then-England keeper Hannah Hampton - a player I’ve both enjoyed and been frustrated by watching whenever she’s played against a team I like. 

Best souvenir from a game?

My Chemie Leipzig scarf is soft, comfortable, and confuses the heck out of people as it’s green and white. (”Who’s that? Celtic? Plymouth? Yeovil? St Etienne?”) 

Longest time in line?

Aside from Wembley, I’ve had very little queuing.

Games seen from the front row?

Arsenal’s games at Meadow Park I’ve seen from my favoured spot on the front row of the northern terraces. I was pretty far forward for the Wolfsburg vs Turbine game and as a consequence couldn’t see much action in the opposite goalmouth. 

Most games in one month?

July had four, a result of my country hosting an international tournament.

Most games in one week?

Two! Austria vs Norway and England vs Spain within five days of each other.

Biggest crowd?

Wembley, for the Euros final! 87,192 in attendance, the largest crowd for a European Championship game ever, of any gender. 

Any drunk encounters?

I took advantage of being able to drink beer in the stands at the two games in Germany. The England vs Czech Republic game was so dull I made good use of Harvey’s being on tap in the lounge nearby, too. I also had a fun encounter with a drunk Portsmouth fan at the England vs Spain game.

Top 5 best 2022 footballing moments:

1. There were three iconic goals that did the advancement of the women’s game in England no end of good this summer, and I witness two of them in person! Chloe Kelly’s winner against Germany in the goalmouth at my end in the final is an obvious one, as well as Russo’s cheeky backheel in the semi. But Ella Toone’s equaliser in the quarter final against Spain was just as important. This was the first of four quarter final matches, and after a rampaging group stage the Lionesses had really captured the attention of the country. Had they gone out the first time they played a decent team it would’ve deflated the mood; attendances probably would’ve dropped, the usual sexist bores would’ve trumpeted the usual remarks, and it would not have come home. With Toone’s header - and Stanway’s winner - they really got the country behind them!

2. For sheer luck, bumping into the same person in crowds of 50,000 and 87,000 on separate occasions was great!

3. Chatting to a drunk Portsmouth fan next to me at the England vs Spain game. I was wearing an old Germany away shirt, for fun.

"So, <cod 'allo 'allo style accent>, ver you 'oping vor Germany tonight?" 

Me: "No, my friends thought it would be funny if I wore a Germany shirt to the game."

After discussing the tournament so far: "What was the last club match you went to?" "Wolfsburg vs Turbine Potsdam in the German cup final" "Is that your team then, Wolfsburg?" "Nah, I'm a Gillingham fan!" I genuinely think I broke him. 

Me: "Weird seeing a match from this angle, it's like a Football Manager game!" Him: "Dare I ask which team you're managing?" "Pisa, in Italy" "You fascinate me, man"

4. On the subject of Football Manager - in March 2020, Red Bull Leipzig were getting a lot of puff pieces in the English press, as they were due to play Spurs in the Champions League, and so the media were fawning all over how they had bought out a village team, renamed them after a soft drink and shovelled millions into the club built a team up from nothing to be title contenders. When lockdown hit, and I was bored, rather than spend my time improving myself as a person I decided to prove that it could be done properly - I took over an actual Leipzig side, then languishing in the 5th tier, and with only my skills and no influx of cash beyond what I could earn from promotions and player sales, tried to make them bigger than Red Bull. In that save my Chemie Leipzig side have won ten times more league titles and four more Champions League than RB. In real life, they’re in the German 4th tier, but while nearby on holiday in March I took advantage of the fixtures and went to see them grind out a 1-1 draw against the league leaders. It was cold, I missed both goals queuing for beer, but the atmosphere was amazing and I was so glad I got to see my beautiful football boys in the flesh! 

5. Steve Evans and Gillingham parted ways. I had been boycotting my childhood club while that odious crook was in charge, so I was glad to call myself a Gills fan again. 

6. BONUS! While on a run in a tiny Czech industrial town I found the football stadium. And broke in (went through an open gate) to take a picture of me in the main stand! 

Top 3 worst 2022 footballing moments:

1. Prasnikar’s goal for Frankfurt against Potsdam in the league at the end of May. A point for Potsdam would’ve probably seen them qualify for the Champions League - the influx of cash certainly would’ve helped keep the team together. Instead, following a 4-0 hammering in the cup final, a large number of players left, to be replaced by recruits from the 3rd division; they were followed by the manager and president. Turbine are now bottom of the league, and this once great club who play in blue and white are now odds-on for relegation. Remove the “once great” part and it could describe Gillingham’s season too - clearly I have a type!

2. I regret wearing my Germany shirt to the Wembley final.

3. I regret going out into the cold to watch England 0 Czech Republic 0.

[unsteadylilactree]

An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow by Les Murray

The word goes round Repins,

the murmur goes round Lorenzinis,

at Tattersalls, men look up from sheets of numbers,

the Stock Exchange scribblers forget the chalk in their hands

and men with bread in their pockets leave the Greek Club:

There’s a fellow crying in Martin Place. They can’t stop him.

The traffic in George Street is banked up for half a mile

and drained of motion. The crowds are edgy with talk

and more crowds come hurrying. Many run in the back streets

which minutes ago were busy main streets, pointing:

There’s a fellow weeping down there. No one can stop him.

The man we surround, the man no one approaches

simply weeps, and does not cover it, weeps

not like a child, not like the wind, like a man

and does not declaim it, nor beat his breast, nor even

sob very loudly--yet the dignity of his weeping

holds us back from his space, the hollow he makes about him

in the midday light, in his pentagram of sorrow,

and uniforms back in the crowd who tried to seize him

stare out at him, and feel, with amazement, their minds

longing for tears as children for a rainbow.

Some will say, in the years to come, a halo

or force stood around him. There is no such thing.

Some will say they were shocked and would have stopped him

but they will not have been there. The fiercest manhood,

the toughest reserve, the slickest wit amongst us

trembles with silence, and burns with unexpected

judgements of peace. Some in the concourse scream

who thought themselves happy. Only the smallest children

and such as look out of Paradise come near him

and sit at his feet, with dogs and dusty pigeons.

Ridiculous, says a man near me, and stops

his mouth with his hands, as if it uttered vomit--

and I see a woman, shining, stretch her hand

and shake as she receives the gift of weeping:

as many as follow her also receive it

and many weep for sheer acceptance, and more

refuse to weep for fear of all acceptance,

but the weeping man, like the earth, requires nothing,

the man who seeps ignores us, and cries out

of his writhen face and ordinary body

not words, but grief, not messages, but sorrow,

hard as the earth, sheer, present as the sea--

and when he stops, he simply walks between us

mopping his face with the dignity of one

man who has wept, and now has finished weeping.

Evading believers, he hurries off down Pitt Street.

[scots-gallivanter]

TWENTY

I’ll sing of a river I’m happy beside

The song that I sing is a song of the Clyde

Of all Scottish rivers, it’s dearest to me

It flows from Leadhills all the way to the sea

KENNETH MCKELLAR, The Song of the Clyde

SCOTLAND HAS SOME mesmerising scenery, most famously in the Highlands and Islands: panoramas that move something inside you. It’s a feather in the cap of the Firth of Clyde, therefore, that in 2022 Glasgow to Largs was the only Scottish route to feature in the UK’s top 10 most scenic bus journeys, as voted by SunLife customers. The ‘Clyde Flyer’ came third in Britain. It runs regularly through Greenock, Gourock and Wemyss Bay en route to Largs.

The views you enjoy to the north and the west, to Arran, the Cumbraes, the Cowal peninsula and the Kyles of Bute, are indeed phenomenal – alpine in grandeur. The Gazetteer of Scotland (1847) declared: ‘No parish in the west of Scotland, and few in the Highlands, can surpass Largs in the beauty and romance of the landscape which stretches along its own area, or is hung out within view of both its uplands and its plains.’

In his 2013 guidebook, Gourock to Largs Coast Through Time, Bill Clark writes: ‘…the distance from Gourock’s eastern boundary at Cardwell Bay to the ‘Pencil’ memorial just south of Largs, is a mere 16 miles. The road that tracks the land’s edge between these two points, however, allows the traveller to experience one of the finest scenic journeys in the land.’ (The Pencil monument was erected in 1912 to commemorate the Battle of Largs in 1263, in which Scotland repelled a Viking invasion.).

These sublime views, of course, are what discerning daytrippers have always seen as they sail ‘doon the watter’, that age-old practice of travelling to Rothesay, Dunoon, Millport, Largs, Girvan, Saltcoats and other coastal resorts during Glasgow Fair holidays. Following the coronavirus pandemic, marketeers have americanised such trips around the Clyde coast as ‘staycations’.

Largs once hosted a huge annual horse and cattle sale to celebrate St Colm; and it attracted thousands of farmers and crofters from all over Scotland. There was no pier, only a jetty for landing passengers. The beasts were thrown overboard to sink or swim ashore. Travel writer John Lettice observed that the fair continued for several days. The vast concourse of people, who flocked there on foot, on horseback, in carriages, and in boats, almost covered the plain next to the sea:

‘All was movement, animation, clamour and din; and to have regarded this motley, and tumultuous scene in undisturbed quiet, from some of the neighbouring heights, must have been highly gratifying to a curious, or contemplative mind.’

As campsites were few and far between in the Largs area we pitched tent next to a busy flyover, near the shore and next to a couple of campervans from which Bon Jovi competed with The Carpenters into the small hours. In the morning a woman out walking her two Snautzers apologised for waking us up but we were already up with the larks. We were unable to use the toilets at the yachting club 50 yards off as a special code was required to access them and their undoubtedly hot showers.

TWENTY-ONE

The coast at this place, as it is with a few exceptions along the whole course of the Frith, is bounded at a short distance back from the shore with a range of hills, sometimes rising in gentle slopes, and at other times in abrupt rocky precipices, from which is to be had a continued succession of beautiful and varied views.

JOHN LEIGHTON, Select Views on the River Clyde (1830)

THE CLYDE Flier bus takes us past sheer sandstone rocks, honed and honeycombed on their well-wooded heights, out of whose crevices gnarled trees thrive. On the other side are the fairytale landscapes of the firth. We alight from the bus for the boat to Bute in an architectural theme park. With its Georgian-style timber frontage, its Chinese pagodas, and turrets; its Queen-Anne-style Italianate clock tower, and its soothing curved design, Wemyss Bay railway station is a glorious A-listed building. It has a pleasing feel, thanks to a group of volunteers who rescued it from dereliction. Now a vibrant place with a colourful community garden, book shop, museum, and multiple hanging baskets, this miracle of glass and metal architecture and engineering won the World Cup of Stations cup in 2023. It is a masterpiece from the golden age of rail, with a rare curving walkway that takes you down along a winding wood and glass ‘tunnel’ to the old steamboat terminal.

You get the notion that Wemyss Bay folk are rightly very proud of their station, but there are several other architectural wonders in the area that have not been so lucky. Beneath one of the picturesque precipices stood Ferncliff, a splendid villa built in 1851 that, along with the similar homes of very wealthy businessmen, earned Wemyss Bay the nickname New Glasgow. It was the home of the Danish consul in the 1870s and, in its heyday, was called Seaside Heights. It became the Rothmar Hotel in 1924; a convalescent home for miners in the 1940s; and a ‘Christian guest house and conference centre’, a Baptist church and then an evangelical centre from the 1970s until the 1990s. One of its rooms was known as ‘The Prime Minister’s Room’ after Clement Attlee stayed there. It was demolished in 2001 to make way for flats.

Kelly House was another country house not far from the station. Enriched by the slave trade in the West Indies, John Wallace, a distant relative of William Wallace, bought the ‘Kelly Estate’ in 1792, and built a gothic mansion with tall chimneys, ornate turrets and sprawling landscaped gardens. An earlier building, Kelly Castle, had burned to the ground in 1740.

Wallace’s son and heir, Robert, who became MP for Greenock, had ambitious plans for a marine village containing 200 luxury villas; a hotel, a school; three churches, terraced walks with a fountain and grass promenade; a harbour and quay for steamboats; a curling pond, a bowling green; heated baths, and a reading room and billiards room. However, he went bankrupt after slavery was abolished. In 1871 the estate came into the hands of James Young, the inventor of paraffin. Young was a friend of David Livingstone, the explorer, and he built a replica of his African mud hut in the grounds. It is long gone.

The house, revamped in the 1880s after Young’s death, was destroyed by arson in 1913 and the site was cleared during the war, when the Forces moved to the area to train for the invasion of Sicily. There is speculation the fire was the work of suffragettes unhappy with the house’s association with the slave trade, but no culprit was ever charged. It is now the site of a caravan park.

Castle Wemyss was the village’s pride and joy, a fascinating place with rare sea views, built by developer Charles Wilsone Broun in 1850. He also built 32 villas nearby, only one of which (Mansfield) remains.

The Cunard tycoon, Sir John Burns, later Baron Inverclyde, bought Castle Wemyss in 1860. It had a badminton court, a pier, greenhouses, Roman baths, and a monk’s cell. It was of great historical value as a fashionable destination for V.I.P.s, among them Henry Morton Stanley, U.S. General Sherman, Lord Shaftesbury, Anthony Trollope, Peter II of Yugoslavia, Emperor Haile Selassie, and various members of the royal family.

Trollope wrote some of his novel Barchester Towers during one of his stays, and it inspired him to write of Portray Castle in his book The Eustace Diamonds.

The fourth and last baron was renowned for his parties, some of which according to local gossip, included midnight ‘skinny dipping’. He was briefly married to a daughter of the millionaire owner of the Sainsbury chain. Alas, however, wealth would appear to be transitory. He died in 1957, childless; and his heirs couldn’t afford to maintain the estate. His title came to an end. The estate went to a developer, and Inverkip Power Station was built on part of the grounds. The castle itself crumbled, and the roof was ripped off to avoid housing rates. It was bulldozed in 1984, and a housing estate was built on the site. A flight of steps and a flagpole are all that remains of a priceless and elegant mansion, and gardens likened (in a biography of George Burns) to the Babylonian gardens of Nebuchadnezzar. The powers that were even removed an age-old monkey puzzle tree that stood at the entrance to the drive (‘for safety reasons’).

I had a look in Wemyss Bay station bookshop for anything by a writer who spent her last years in nearby Skelmorlie, and who set almost half of her many children’s books along the Clyde coast. Dorita Fairlie Bruce’s work was incredibly popular from the 1920s to the 1940s. In her Springdale series she renamed Ayrshire, Brigshire, and called Largs, Redchurch.

I pick up a copy of The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists instead, bringing my tally to four of them; I have a peculiar habit of giving them away.

I walk around the station waiting for the next boat and come across the bronze statue of a boy. There’s a far-fetched story that Wemyss Bay was named after an 18th-century boatman called Bobby Wemyss. It seems unlikely but it didn’t stop marketing folk calling the statue Bobby. It stands in the station for the world to see – without the mask that was placed on its face during COVID.

 

[albusparker2131]

Wings of Atlanta: Delta's International & Domestic Powerhouse

Atlanta, Georgia, stands as a global aviation hub, and the beating heart of this massive operation is Delta Air Lines. As one of the world's largest and most influential carriers, Delta has established an indomitable presence at its home base, Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport (ATL). Delta's operations at this airport have not only reshaped the city’s connectivity to the world but also played a crucial role in turning Atlanta into a pivotal player in the global aviation market. This article delves into how Delta's operations at ATL, its dominance in both international and domestic markets, and its focus on customer experience make it a true powerhouse.

Delta's Global Reach: International Dominance at ATL

Delta Air Lines operates a vast network of flights that extend far beyond the borders of the United States. Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport serves as Delta’s main gateway to international destinations, with direct flights to Europe, Asia, Latin America, Africa, and beyond. From bustling business hubs like London, Paris, and Tokyo to emerging tourist hotspots in Africa and South America, Delta connects passengers to over 70 international cities across six continents.

What makes delta terminal atlanta international airport operations truly remarkable is its emphasis on seamless connections. The airline ensures that passengers traveling from smaller U.S. cities can easily connect through the delta terminal at Atlanta international airport to catch their long-haul flights. This network, coupled with efficient scheduling and reduced layover times, gives Delta a strategic advantage over other carriers. Whether for business or leisure, Delta ensures that travelers departing from ATL have direct and convenient access to global destinations.

A Stronghold in Domestic Aviation

While Delta’s international reach is impressive, its domestic dominance is equally formidable. As the primary airline at ATL, Delta offers unmatched connectivity across the United States. Delta controls more than 80% of the airport’s operations, which translates to thousands of flights daily, serving every corner of the U.S. — from major metropolitan areas like New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago, to smaller regional airports in the Midwest, South, and West Coast.

What makes Delta’s domestic presence at ATL even more remarkable is its hub-and-spoke system, a model that maximizes efficiency. By centralizing most of its domestic operations in Atlanta, Delta can offer frequent flights, lower wait times, and more flexible itineraries for travelers. Whether you're a business traveler flying from Atlanta to New York or a tourist heading to Miami, Delta’s flight schedule ensures there’s a flight at almost any time of the day.

In addition, Delta’s presence at ATL also provides passengers with access to Sky Club Lounges, upgraded terminals, and efficient ground services that minimize delays, thus ensuring a smooth domestic travel experience.

Operational Excellence at Hartsfield-Jackson

The scale of Delta's operations at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport is staggering. With multiple concourses dedicated almost entirely to Delta flights, the airline has a near-monopoly at the airport. The delta terminal at Atlanta international airport (Concourse A and B primarily) is designed for ease of navigation, boasting efficient passenger flow systems, modern amenities, and a plethora of services ranging from fine dining to duty-free shopping.

One of Delta's greatest assets at ATL is the operational synergy between the airline and the airport. Both Delta and ATL consistently rank among the top in on-time performance, a metric crucial to frequent flyers. Thanks to Delta’s integration with the airport’s sophisticated traffic control systems and efficient runway management, the average delay time at ATL is far lower than many other major hubs.

Delta also plays a pivotal role in ATL’s baggage handling systems. Passengers flying in or out of Delta’s gates benefit from cutting-edge luggage tracking technologies, reducing the chances of lost or misplaced baggage.

Customer Experience: The Delta Difference

Delta’s commitment to customer satisfaction at ATL is evident through every stage of the journey. From its industry-leading loyalty program, SkyMiles, to the superior in-flight experience offered on international and domestic routes, Delta continuously raises the bar.

Passengers flying out of Atlanta’s delta terminal are treated to expedited security lanes, baggage check-in kiosks, and boarding processes that reduce wait times. Delta Sky Club lounges, available throughout ATL, offer luxury amenities such as gourmet meals, high-speed Wi-Fi, showers, and dedicated workspaces, making the airport experience more pleasant for frequent flyers and business travelers.

Delta’s fleet modernization efforts are also a key driver of customer satisfaction. New aircraft with Delta One Suites, lie-flat seats, and advanced entertainment systems make long-haul travel more comfortable. For domestic routes, Delta continues to upgrade its aircraft with more spacious cabins, Wi-Fi availability, and superior service, ensuring that even short-haul travelers enjoy an elevated experience.

Environmental Leadership at Delta’s ATL Hub

As the world becomes more environmentally conscious, Delta has positioned itself as a leader in sustainability. Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport is at the forefront of these efforts, with Delta playing a significant role. Delta has implemented several sustainable aviation initiatives, such as reducing single-use plastics, optimizing fuel consumption, and adopting more energy-efficient ground operations. Additionally, the airline is investing heavily in carbon offset programs and partnering with aviation experts to reduce overall emissions from its operations.

Delta’s commitment to sustainability doesn’t just stop at flight operations. The airline is also working alongside Hartsfield-Jackson to ensure that the airport's infrastructure becomes greener. This includes efforts such as reducing energy consumption across terminals, using electric ground support equipment, and implementing recycling programs throughout the airport.

Delta’s Role in Atlanta’s Economic Development

Delta’s operations at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport have had a far-reaching impact on the local economy. With tens of thousands of jobs created directly and indirectly through the airline’s activities, Delta remains one of the largest employers in the state of Georgia. The airline's success is closely tied to the city of Atlanta, with both benefiting from each other’s growth.

Moreover, Delta has facilitated Atlanta's rise as a business hub. Companies based in the city, such as Coca-Cola, Home Depot, and UPS, rely on Delta's extensive flight network to connect them to global markets. This symbiotic relationship between Delta and Atlanta’s corporate community ensures continued growth and development for both the airline and the city.

Conclusion

Delta’s dominance at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport is more than just a testament to its size; it’s a reflection of the airline’s strategic vision, operational efficiency, and unwavering commitment to customer service. As both the largest international and domestic carrier operating out of ATL, Delta continues to shape the future of global travel while playing a critical role in the economic development of Atlanta.