#Dark Signs too lol

[nyzyi]

PERSONALLY I think Goro is Hozier coded with a pinch of Sleep Token goodnight

[val-of-the-north]

Caitha's connections to Filianore and Nito

Me and @katyspersonal have been developing more reasons for Caitha to be Filianore's mother, but before we do that we need to establish a different theory about Caitha's parents. I think one of them had to be Nito. Let's go over everything:

Caitha is a Goddess connected with death and darkness

Nito controls death, which is a power aligned with the dark. Caitha is revered as a goddess of grief, who sheds tears for the dead, and allows people a peaceful departure to the afterlife. However, her nature is pervaded by a kind of darkness that makes some doubt her true nature, to the point they even assume she is some sort of demoness/evil goddess. In fact, her chime in DS2 is exclusively an hex catalyst, which are all sorts of dark-aligned spells.

I think the only way to explain Caitha's close ties to death and her conflicting nature as a goddess with dark elements to her is to assume she is connected to Nito in some way. After all, the Gods/Lords aren't naturally aligned with the dark in this universe.

There are some people who might put into question her validity as a goddess, since she was introduced in DS2, and in that game it is insinuated that some people could also go down in history as gods through the passing of lore, which is what happened with Pharis, morphing into Evlana, Goddess of the Hunt. After all, if Caitha had been a normal human her connection to darkness would be a no-brainer! That's just humanity's true nature.

However, Evlana and only Evlana is outright identified as a human-turned-god, and it's the devs who spell it out for us too. And even more damning is her prominence in DS3 as a key figure in the Way of White, which dispells any doubt. Gwyndolin, the new Allfather after Lloyd, would probably know who is and isn't a genuine god, and treat them accordingly. She seems to be the only other prominent goddess at the time outside of him and Gwynevere, so she had to have been relevant to Gwyndolin's family specifically.

Nito is connected to family

There's a belief that Pinwheel is some father trying to revive his dead family, and this is why he is wearing family masks, but I think the idea isn't really that satisfying at all. The masks are designed after Greek theater masks, and simply depict archetypes...

However, they could be depicting something indeed, but instead of Pinwheel's family, they might be depicting Nito's. All the family masks prominently appear in the Catacombs on various statues and traps.

Several Pinwheels also appear to be guarding the room before Nito's boss arena, implying there's more of them than just the one we defeated previously.

These also can't be clones of the first Pinwheel because they have full health and didn't dissipate after his death, unlike the ones he makes during his boss fight. And why would Pinwheel defend the entrance to the lord he betrayed? It's stated that the one found in the Catacombs is a traitor who stole Nito's power for himself.

To me, it implies that all of Nito's acolytes, his powerful necromancers, wear the family masks in reverence to him.

And these masks aren't the only set of three things connected to Nito, he and the number 3 actually go hand-in-hand. Inside his boss room we can find three coffins! The big one, where Nito sleeps, a smaller one (but still much larger than a human coffin) besides him, and a third one, tucked away and hidden from view.

Water's strange prominence

Nito seems to have a passive connection to water. In the deepest part of the Tomb of the Giants, there's a shallow pool of water where an endless army of baby skeletons rises from, there are pools of water in his own boss room, and even the Catacombs feature a lot of flowing water and pools. In DS2 we meet the Milfanito and Brightbugs, creations of the Gravelord who inhabit the Shrine of Amana, a giant underground lake. However, Nito himself does not display any real water powers, but perhaps his wife might have.

Looking at the mask of the mother, we can notice how different she looks compared to the father and child. It's harder to make any feature out, and she seems to be wearing a crown of some sort. This crown features a wave-like pattern too.

Coupled with the large coffin besides Nito's, it's safe to say his wife must have been one of the people of Anor Londo, one of the Gods. It is also very fair that Death would find a partner in a Goddess of Water, an element often connected with life. After all, Nito did create life at some point, with the Fenito, Milfanito and Brightbugs, and it wasn't simply a matter of reanimating corpses like he usually does. Perhaps that was allowed through this specific union. In fact, the pool of endlessly-spawning skeleton babies could have been birthing grounds for these beings. Only, the pool has probably gone dry from her absence, so it's only capable of... that.

Nito is a Giant

Nito himself isn't a Lord/God but rather a Giant, evidenced from his domain (the Tomb of the Giants), the fact he was the first being to die making him incredibly ancient, and his affinity with darkness which is irreconcilable with the light-based humanoids. Sure, in Japanese it's stated that the Tomb of the Giants is where the Gods were buried, but the name of the area is still "of the Giants".

If Nito was a god, and it was a burial ground exclusive to gods, the area could have easily been named "Tomb of the Gods". Not to mention the various Giant Skeletons found patrolling the area, some of them even seemingly more monstrous and primal. The size of his coffin also feels like it's bold-enough evidence to positively make this conclusion.

Giants seem to have been the first humanoid race to rise from the First Flame, and in DS2 we see what are probably the most ancient race of Giants we know of, who don't seem to truly die in the traditional sense, only entering a "different" stage of life and growing seeds to grow new giants from. Their souls also have a small dark core surrounded by a mass of light.

I think they must have been the ancestors of all other beings, born in a similar manner to the golems in Drangleic and Eleum Loyce, back when souls first appeared. Maybe they inhabited the wooden husks of the Archtrees and gave them life. The DS1/3 Giants would come shortly after, still holding both light and dark within, then Lords/Gods and Pygmies, who evolved to lean more towards one of the two elements. Those Giants would be the first beings with the ability to "die" then, instead of living once again like the DS2 Giants, and Nito would be the first of them to perish, as his title suggests. He is, after all, the "first of the dead".

Some people might think the title simply means he is the first among the dead, but Wolnir actually seems to confirm it's meant to be taken literally. While lost in the international translation, his soul mentions a desire to be "the last of the dead", which parallels Nito.

(The retranslation is from LastProtagonist's Bloodborne document, in the Dark Souls WIP section, you can find it here [x])

The translation we got does share a similar sentiment, with him being keen to outlive everyone, but the Nito connection is lost. So yes, Nito was the first to die, and that strenghtens the connection with the Giants, who appear to be the most ancient humanoid race.

This explains why he would be able to withstand the dark that comes with death, and even prefer it to the light, judging from how dark his domains usually are (Tomb of the Giants, but also the Undead Crypt). It would also explain why a potential offspring with a God would be able to harbor both the light and the dark without issue.

Caitha is death and water

So, if Nito rules over death and his wife controls water, their child would show an affinity for water, no? Indeed, Caitha has certain connections to the water element, and the most evident one comes in the form of tears.

Caitha's tears have magical traits, and increase power or defense the closer to death one is depending on if they were shed for the undeserving dead or for those who have lost loved ones, tears of sorrow and grief.

One of her miracles, Tears of Denial, also allowed the dying a few precious moments to say their proper farewells to their loved ones. If her mother was indeed a goddess of water and life, it would make sense she'd have the power to grant such a thing. She would be holding time back just enough for all of this to be possible.

Her last miracle is Caressing Tears, which cleanses the body from all kinds of poisons, from bleeding wounds and even from frostbite.

This one is probably the most interesting, as it shares the same function and (almost) icon with an old sorcery featured in DS1, Remedy, developed by Yulva the Sealer to help the sick in Blighttown.

The spell, similarly to Ingward's Resist Curse, appears to use a blue, splash-like particle. The Sealers of New Londo seem to have been healers prior, and may have had some control over water, since it's what was used to seal away New Londo. The cleansing nature of water is likely what allowed them to heal people, and might also be what allows Caitha to heal the sick as well.

The Cathedral of the Deep was dedicated to Caitha

As I stated before, Caitha gained a lot of relevance in DS3, becoming one of the most important gods in Carim, the new "capital" for the Way of White. This newfound relevance is evident when looking at the Cathedral of the Deep. This Cathedral wasn't always dedicated to the worship of the Deep, as the Deacons once watched over and sealed that corruption away before being touched by it themselves.

Many statues of weeping figures can be found inside the building. The most prominent one is a weeping maiden, seen all throughout the Cathedral both inside and outside.

Most of them are in-fact covered up by a red cloth, as if denouncing their affiliation to her. This enimity towards Caitha is further reinforced through the efforts of hiding away Caitha's Chime, considered anathema by one of the three Archdeacons.

The in-game description mentions the Archbishop but it was simply a bit that the localizers lost while translating the text. In Japanese the kanji used is the same for the Archdeacons as opposed to that used for the Archbishop of Carim. I have a whole post about that actually ahah, and it also gives more insight on the Church of the Deep: [x]

But yeah, in short, the Cathedral was once dedicated to Caitha. The large graveyard outside is probably further evidence of this, seeing as her domain is mourning and grief. But she was also someone who healed and cleansed, which is possibly what the Deacons were doing before turning to the worship of the Deep. The Cathedral also features pools of water within, which feels all too relevant after all our previous discussions about Caitha's potential mother and her own connection to the element of water.

The Deep and water

The Deep itself is strongly connected to water. What Aldrich saw was an age of the Deep Sea, and the Murkmen who dwell within grow all sorts of barnacles and what seems to be mussels on their bodies.

It's said it was once a peaceful place that has been corrupted, and now filth and abominations reside within. Some assume it was Aldrich himself that corrupted it, but I doubt a single man could have such power, no matter how abominable and twisted he was. What likely happened to the Deep is that the stagnant nature of the world caused it to stagnate as well. The concept of "穢れ" (kegare) is very common in these games.

So, the Deep is connected with water. The Deacons of Caitha were safeguarding it in her Cathedral before it corrupted them. I think the Deep was once good, and that spells like Remedy were drawing from it... but signs of corruption were already beginning in the form of the Vagrants. They have always been bizarre creatures, with a very clear sea-life motif to them. It's my belief that they were some of the original inhabitants of the Deep before it went bad.

Vagrants appear where players have died and lost plenty of humanity. These crab-like creatures might have first found the Human Dregs, the heaviest things within the human body, consumed them, and got a taste for them.

Crabs are a very common bottom feeder after all, eating all sorts of stuff that sinks into whatever body of water they inhabit. At the time of DS1 there were probably less dregs to be found as the cycle was still young and not as stagnant, so to seek more they must have crawled out in search of fresh humanity. It's worth noting the core of murky darkness inside them, perhaps an early sign of the corruption to come.

Filianore, her powers and her egg

With all of this cleared out, we can finally talk about Filianore, who we believe is the daughter of Gwyn and Caitha. Filianore is a pretty mysterious figure, and her powers seem to be a bit unclear. She has a sacred chime that boosts healing miracles (half of which are connected to Gwynevere), enanchment miracles (seemingly only Sacred Oath, related to the Firstborn) and the one cure miracle in the game, which belongs to Caitha.

Filianore herself seems to have been affected by darkness at least somewhat, with black streaks coming out of her closed eyes, and the large egg with a dark core within, very reminiscent of the Vagrants we discussed earlier.

I think Filianore inherited some affinity with the Dark from her mother's side, which was probably one of the reasons she was given to the Pygmies instead of someone like Gwynevere. Her powers must have also been about the manipulation and distorsion of time itself, which could explain why the Ringed City seems to be in a better condition than the rest of the world, which piled up together into the Dreg Heap. Like Caitha and her Tears of Denial, she might have had the ability to manipulate time, though instead of reversing death for a short while she could make time flow slowly. Both are holding a specific process back (death for Caitha and time for Filianore). I think it's her blood relation to Gwyn that allowed her to master this power so effectively, as time only exists the way it does because of Fire.

Maybe Gwyn sought to keep the Pygmies stuck in a time bubble that would keep them always behind everyone. I believe he didn't lie to Filianore when he said he'd be back for her, but he simply wished to bide his time to find a way to conquer the Dark before the end of his Age, something that never came to pass. So when we see the Ringed City, we are seeing a point in time that's way behind the current one. Despite that, we can tell a long time has passed in this time bubble too by the state of disrepair of the city, as well as the presence of an advancing Deep.

The egg itself is really interesting. If Vagrants are from the Deep, thus are connected with water, her holding one of them since before any corruption would have started polluting the world is very interesting. Maybe this power or gift relates less to her mother Caitha and more to her grandmother. It seems to act as a seal of some sort, as when the egg finally breaks Filianore is able to wake up. However, this causes time to start flowing again all at once, causing us to jump super forward in time and find ourselves in the ashen wasteland that we see at the end of the Ringed City DLC.

[padfootastic]

Some people are not ready to admit that we actually are introduced to a character who offers a gray perspective on the people involved in this war (as opposed to strict black-and-white) and that’s Sirius (and yes, this is spitefully motivated by the fics where Harry is a Slytherin, meets other gray characters, and Sirius is shown as an immature idiot). Has everyone somehow forgotten the scene in GOF when Sirius is telling people that he’s not sure if Snape was a Death Eater even though Snape hung out with people Sirius for sure knew were Death Eaters, and then says that he can’t be sure if BCJ was actually guilty or if he just had the bad luck of being near the Lestranges at the worst possible time?? Sirius outright admits that he wasn’t the only one who didn’t receive a trial, he knows it’s entirely possible that other “convicted” Death Eaters were innocent just like him. Sirius is the main person we see actually acknowledging that the villains are people too, the world’s not black-and-white, good-vs-evil. Say what you want about Sirius, but at least dislike him for what he actually did (and I will never shut up about “Sirius hated Slytherins,” show me where we see him insulting either Slytherin House or using that House as an insult, and him hating blood-purists who happened to be Slytherins doesn’t count, that’s just hating bigots. Maybe I forgot a scene [and no, the train scene doesn’t count because it’s James insulting Slytherin, Sirius doesn’t], but somehow I doubt that)

i was literally just asking ab this in the server today bc i saw that opinion floating around hey again and like—how?? where??

it’s weird that j&s become a single entity in exactly the worst possible way in a lot of marauder interpretations bc people see james being black & white and hexing people & fucking with snape and immediately paste the same traits onto sirius, even when we have the literal opposite evidence. why do we think sirius hated slytherins???? have i just completely forgotten that bit from canon?

ok also omg stop. you just brought back SO MANY years old flashbacks of me devouring slyth harry fics and almost every single one of them, without fail, had harry interacting w these worldly, complicated, morally grey characters vs being ashamed of his embarrassing one dimensional prejudiced godfather :/// ‘sirius will u stop calling my friends slimy snakes!!!!’ just. yeah. loved those fics. always had to click out of those bits lol

[theclearblue]

Alright I'm fine with Ch. 261 as long as we don't get another prolonged Gojo v. Sukuna fight. In that case I won't be mad just disappointed

[fulgurbugs]

spent literally all day unpacking but i finally got all my shit put back up.

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 58

Chapter; Highlights

Not that there was much Elide could do.

Despite the generous gift of power that ran through the Lochan bloodline, she possessed no magic, no gifts beyond reading people and lying.

Rushed to get bandages, hot water, and whatever salves or herbs the healers calmly requested. None of them shouted. They only raised their voices, magic glowing bright around them, if a soldier was shrieking too loudly for their words to be heard.

The sun was barely over the horizon, judging by the light at the windows set high in the Great Hall, and so many already lay injured. So many. Still they kept coming, and Elide kept moving, her limp becoming a dull, then a sharp ache. A minor pain, compared to what the soldiers endured. Compared to what they faced on the battlements.

She didn't let herself think of her friends.

Didn't let herself think of Lorcan, who had not come to the chamber last night and had not sought them out this morning. As if he didn't want to be near her. As if he'd taken every hateful word she'd spoken to heart.

So Elide aided—and did not stop.

No, that magnificent horse trampled them, fearless and wicked, just as Chaol had predicted. A horse whose name meant butterfly

—stomping all over Valg foot soldiers.

Had his breath not been a rasp in his chest, Chaol might have smiled. Had men not been cut down around him, he might have laughed a bit, too.

But Morath was launching itself at the walls and gates with a furor they had not yet witnessed. Perhaps they knew who had come to Anielle and now hewed them down. Aelin and Rowan fought back-to-back, and Fenrys had plowed his way down the battlements to join Chaol by the second siege tower.

Morath, it seemed, did not think to surrender. Only to inflict destruction, to break into the keep and slaughter as many as they could before meeting their end.

His shield bloodied and dented, his horse a raging demon herself beneath him, Chaol kept swinging his sword. His wife lay within the keep behind him. He would not fail her.

Soon now. They'd win the field soon, and the song in his blood would quiet.

Part of him didn't want it to end, even as his body began to scream to rest.

Yet when the battle was done, what would remain?

Nothing. Elide had made that clear enough.

She loved him, but she hated herself for it.

He hadn't deserved her anyway.

She deserved a life of peace, of happiness.

He didn't know such things. Had thought he'd glimpsed them during the months they'd traveled together, before everything went to hell, but now he knew he was not meant for anything like it.

But this battlefield, this death-song around him ... This, he could do. This, he could savor.

The golden helmets of the khagan's army became clear, their fiery horses unfaltering.

Finer than any host he'd fought beside in a mortal kingdom. In many immortal kingdoms, too.

Obeying the death-song in his blood, Lorcan let his shields drop. He did not wish it to be easy. He wanted to feel each blow, see his enemy's life drain out beneath his sword.

The earth shook beneath thundering hooves, and arrows screamed overhead. Then there was roaring. And then blackness.

[keeps-ache]

streetlamps.. orange streetlamps..... <33

[daz4i]

borderlands is like the series that probably has the most wrong fandom for what it wants to be. like it's a huge fictional universe with so much lore, it has really good and emotionally impactful stories. sometimes. bl3&tftbl2 dni, awesome queer rep, solid characters with touching bonds; and then most of the fandom is like. gamer bros who only care abt farming and misgendering nb characters ig

[dutybcrne]

Kaeya most definitely made at least one joke about how bc Addie and Elzer helped keep him alive during Luc’s Adventurous 4yrs Adventures Abroad, he was gonna make himself their problem.

Addie will never forget to bring up he has yet to make good on his threat every time he visits.

[dirt-str1der]

What ive learned about the yakuza community is that you guys are way too hung up over that scene in y4 where he pinned haruka to the ground then started panting really heavily , that didnt happen for me , that scene wasnt real to me i forgot about it.

[dmitriyuriev]

Captive Saint

Fully nude and lineart versions on my poipiku

[tinybubblesyay]

Magic and whimsy is alive and well, I sold my first artwork as an artist and I stuck around to meet the dude who bought it. He was very happy to buy my art. Shook my hand twice and was all smiles, loved to see that it was interactive too. He was there with his dad too, and I saw him show it to him. He was around my mom's age, likely younger.

I'm so happy that my art could make someone else happy. Magical night tonight folks.

[wishingprince]

Three more repotted babies - and status pics of the original ones.

Hoping everyone turns out okay. The heart succulent was originally buried up to that line in the soil of his tiny pot so I replanted him above that and I’m hoping he ends up a lot happier for it. The tower succulent seemed to be one of the only ones who wasn’t super irritated with the original pot - but his soil was DISGUSTING so I’m happy he’s freed and I hope to see him settle in too. And then the tradescantia’s leaves were starting to spot a little? I was trying to mist it to keep it moist but according to Google I should be keeping the soil moist not the leaves and that’s what’s been spotting her. So no more of that I was being a dummy.

Happy that long red boy seems to be doing good. I mean he survived for a year in a way too small Winco pot because I was an ignorant idiot so I sorta figured he’d be able to handle repotting - he thrives on spite and now he has a lot more than spite going for him.

The white flower succulent - ugh I accidentally dropped him when I was repotting him - I was so worried about not packing him in that I didn’t give him enough support and he tumbled out and according to his leaves he’s now probably in shock and super stressed. I’m gonna leave him alone and see how things go over the next few weeks but ugh I get emotional every time I look at him, I feel so awful that I dropped him and I hope he lives.

Ugh I love them so much. I still need to repot my poor violet and pink panther. Gotta get some soil for them this weekend. Then it’s no more newbies until I can keep these ones thriving for a while.

[jrueships]

yall wanna see sauce's roleplay world.

[screampied]

#THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY. g. suguru

☆ sum. the last thing you’d expect for a surprise birthday present by your friends was a visit to a men’s strip club. geto suguru—your dancer’s got it all. tall, handsome, and he wants waaay more than just thirty minutes with you.

wc. 6.9k (h.. haha)

warnings. fem! reader, stripper au, stripper! geto, unprotected, lap dancīng, dry humping, switch geto, lots of riding, 69, finishing too quick, choking, geto has nīpple piercings, hair pulling, spīt, dirty talk, he licks champagne off you, nīpple play, breedīng, praise, **** cameo :), petnames.

an. ty to the ppl who voted on my poll <3 kinda scared to post this LOL. this came on a whim ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

➤ kinktober mlist.

“i understand your body wants it. i know your thoughts, oh you ‘bout it ‘bout it . . ”

the erotic lyrics that blared through the club’s abject speakers nearly deafened your ears the moment you stepped inside. you were flashed with a plethora of luminescent jade lights as you read a glowing sign near the bar that read ‘welcome to the vixxxen lounge.’ your friends, who decided to surprise you for your birthday with nothing more than a girls’ trip to a men’s strip club told you they’d be getting drinks if you need them. of course . . that was probably code for: going to spend time near the private rooms.

apparently, it’s ‘happy hour’ which meant countless discounts—and you’d already had your two individual sessions paid for by one of your friends. crisp aerating air waves from the air conditioner chills against your skin as you lean against the bronzy brick pillar. you gather your surroundings, eyeing the oily attractive glossed men that entertained the screaming crowds of thirsty women. the wide stage was spacey, and it almost looked like a concert—you started to wonder just who you were paired up with. but right as you’re pondering deep in thought, there’s a light tap on your shoulder.

“miss.”

you turn around to face probably the most attractive man you’ve laid your eyes upon. he’s tall with lengthy long hair — tangled black tresses of strands that reach just about past his shoulders. you couldn’t help but openly gawk a bit . . finding your eyes to leisurely trail down toward his skimpy attire. near his neck, he had a stained smooch of a lip stick mark that was a dark shaded red. you then noticed a few hundred dollar bills stuck in between his red thin straps.

this guy, it appeared he was dressed as some kind of firefighter. he had on the helmet along with the matching baggy yellow pants, but was completely topless. the only thing that went against his chiseled pecs was the skinny straps that attached onto the belts of his pants.

“heyy,” he waves a hand in your face, arching a brow.

“o- oh, sorry,” you bashfully murmur, mentally cursing yourself out for wandering off into space again. embarrassing, embarrassing. fishing for your vip pass that gave you direct access to one of the secluded private rooms—you dig it out your pocket, staring down at the assigned dancer and room number. “are you uh . . geto?”

“i am. but ah, suguru’s fine,” he murmurs, and he takes your pass, putting the temperature lanyard over your neck. geto’s fingers brush against your skin and you nearly shudder.

his touch.. it felt like sparks of electricity, and near the far distance by the crowded stage, your friends waved at you. with a throaty, “follow me, birthday girl,” he swiftly turns his heels and starts making a beeline toward the back of the club. you follow him, continuing to eye his costume.

but phew, he had quite the ass.

but anyway—that’s not the point.

it never really occurred to you how all the male strippers had specific costumes—you were far too entranced by geto. it was probably because of how halloween was only a mere few weeks away, so it’d make sense how they’d be ordered to get into the spirit of things.

“and imma let you do it how you wanna girl i’ll riiiide with it, riiiide with it . . ”

the lyrics of that catchy same song that resounded through the speakers of the club grew louder—and as he guided you inside the dimly red lit room, he makes you lie back against a cushioned sofa. there’s a few piles of money scattered near the front, and you didn’t count but that amount could make anyone filthy rich.

geto rubs the back of his neck, rolling it around to stretch before he glances down at you. you struggle to look him in the eye and a faint smile creases across his lips.

you’re new, and he could tell you weren’t used to such carnal provocative environments.

“relaaax, pretty girl,” his voice was low purr. the way he talked was soothing, a good amount of teasing and playfulness. right at his words, your shoulders slumped and you lean back.

the air around you seems to close in, getting thicker ‘n thicker before he makes you haul your arms over the edges of the couch. “comfy?” and he doesn’t do anything else until you give him a subtle complying nod. geto takes off his amber-colored helmet before putting it on your head. “lean back. just focus on me.”

“o . . okay,” you exhale, and your eyes finally meet his.

the fake firefighter helmet crooks, tilting a bit to the side over the crown of your head as you watch him starting to sway to the bass dropping beats. you gulp as he gets closer . . and closer, following the exact steps to his usual routine before he gets on your lap.

he’s so pretty, and now that his helmet was off of him, you got an even more view of his face. geto starts to slowly grind against you, one hand resting near back of the couch that’s next to your shoulder. he’s fully in sync with the song that booming blares in the background.

the friction. he was moving up against you, and you couldn’t help but glance down his glossy chest. his legs were huge, and you didn’t even notice the clamped silver piercings that stuck against his reddened nipples. “is this okay?” he whispers, and you already feel yourself starting to heat up. the a/c was blasting—and yet, you felt like it was over a hundred degrees.

“ ‘s okay,” you breathlessly say, feeling your facial expressions serene. geto swiftly gets off you, and he starts to rock and grind his hips against the floor.

he’s slow and precise—each movement matches the following before he sits up, flicking against the straps of his costume. fuck, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. you knew he was probably used to this . . seeing so many women at a time, giving them a thirty minute private dance and going on with his day.

geto had charisma and lots lots of it.

it was ironic because he didn’t even have to say anything. throughout the duration of his entire routine, he let his hips do the rest of the talking. speaking of hips, you’ve never seen a more a slutty waist.

it’s unapologetically snatched, and you start to envision seeing his face plastered on every cover of a a men’s vogue magazine. he’s gorgeous—and the second he’s back in your lap again, he leans into the crook of your neck. “hey,” he repeats, and his voice was a lot more pitched and lower. it’s a dirty kind of husky that makes you clench your thighs together. as he’s up close—you get a whiff of his cologne. it’s quite loud, and you’d guess the scent was something between bergamot and rich aromatic oak moss. “do you wanna touch me?”

a breath gets trapped in the back of your clogged throat at the question.

geto continues to gradually grind his hips into you as pretty black strands of his hair tickles near your shoulders. “y- yes,” and the words smoothly flow from your lips like smooth molasses of chocolate.

geto was patient, and he wanted to make you comfortable—that was his number one priority.

he speaks in a more rough yet sly tone. “ ‘m gonna grab your wrists okay? just feel me,” and you feel mentally prepare yourself. biting down on your bottom lip—you mouth a soft, ‘okay,’ and geto gently grabs your wrists.

he’s still slowly jerking his hips against you, matching each sultry beat of the song. the base of the chorus rang through your ears and the lyrics flowed through once ear ‘n out the other.

as you stare up at him, he makes you press your hands firmly against his shaven flexing chest. sheets of slicking sweat that covers the top part of his body coats on your hands and you cutely furrow your brows. “heh, oh sorry love. ‘m a bit sweaty, hope that doesn’t turn you off.”

“it’s f . . fine,” you utter, and he resumes to guide your hands. his chest was as hard as a brick, and you felt how his muscles would freely tense.

god, geto was a literal sculpture. you probably looked stupid with how you kept openly staring at his perfectly carved abs. an entire six pack - each section even more strenuously ripped than the first.

as you continue to gawk, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets—you feel him shifting his weight a bit so he wouldn’t crush you. your thumb snags against his pierced nipple and he grunts, breaking character for a second. he lets off a cute snarl. “sorry! i didn’t-”

“sweetheart, it’s okay,” he hums, releasing a low puff of air. so he was sensitive there, noted.

as he continues, he makes your hands reach lower. the thin straps of his costume glide against your plump fingertips before he stops at his fading raven-colored happy trail.

black ‘n bushy . . you could make out every single tiny speck of hair that stuck against the lower part of his abdomen if you squinted, and you did.

the rest was hiding underneath the upper hem part of his prop turnout pants. “now ‘m gonna let go of my hands,” he whispers, eyeing you intently.

it was so much lustful ardor in the air. the more you stared at the dancer, the more you started questioning why the hell you never visited a strip club sooner. a question that was probably gonna remain unanswered..

“ . . ‘n ‘m gonna let you do whatever you want while i finish.” he concludes his sentence, and as if his hands were attached to your own with adhesive velcro, geto slowly pulls away.

now, it’s just your two balmy palms pressing against his chest. you take it upon yourself to drag an invisible line down his flat sleek cheek with your fingers.

your hands then find themselves reaching for a few papery fifty dollar bills, tossing it at his glossed grinding body. geto sighs with a cunning simper, continuing to rock his slim hips into your lap. “that’s it, feel me princess. ‘m all yours.”

and in a way – he was.

it was only you two in the room, and yet it felt like you ‘n suguru were the only people on earth. the entire mood was sensual and you could almost smell the libido that radiated off his skin. it was a scent you couldn’t describe—but you didn’t want him to stop.

as your hands kept roaming down his puffed out chest, you stop right at the hem of his pants. poking out, his sharp carved-like ‘v’ shaped pelvis arches within each muscle he moves forward.

the crimson red lights that flicker every three seconds narrowly spotlights toward geto’s fit body. for a quick moment—you get a good glimpse of his face and he’s inches away from your shimmery twitching lips.

geto leans up to your ear and he hoarsely whispers. “birthday girllll,” and he huffs out a drawn breath, feeling you eagerly tug at his pants. a snicker leaves from him before he gets a nice smell of your citrusy perfume. “ah. is the pants gettin’ on your nerves?”

“a bit,” you murmur honestly, and you were already undressing him with your eyes. you were sure geto was most likely wearing a thong underneath but you imagined otherwise.

filthy - you couldn’t believe the thoughts you were having.

to think, if you hadn’t accepted this little ‘girls’ trip’ with your friends, you’d probably be sleeping the entire day away. after all, they did want you to get out more. especially for your special day. with a pout twisting across each part of your lips, you sigh. “can i—”

“what, undress me?” he tries to play coy, seeing your pouty expression increase. geto hums, amused as you lightly hook a finger underneath his hooked strap before he shrugs. “go ‘head, princess. knock y’rself out.”

geto found your hesitance cute. you didn’t wanna seed ‘needy’ but you were showing all signs of it. at the moment, you completely forgot you were at a strip club and he was just a dancer.

but fuck it.

you went slow as he still straddles your lap, slowly pulling down his loosely fitted pants. they were baggy.. a flashy color of yellow, and the more you tugged them down, the more you got a glance at his scanty thong.

it’s dark purple with his name embedded on the thin white strips.

from all sides, it spelled ‘s u g u r u,’ in bold lilac plum colors. he even had custom made thongs? as if you couldn’t get even more aroused—

yeah, you were aroused. leave it to your legs that remained glued together starting to swelter up with … stickiness.

not everyday did you have a man grind against your lap, and to be fucking frank you didn’t think you’d last.

“you’re so pretty,” you pant, watching him shimmy his pants down to where it flops down to his ankles. and oh, he had quite the bulge.

it looked almost painful—so swole and round, you just wanted to kiss it. it looked like at any second it was about to just burst through the cottony stretched fabric. the scenery grows more hedonic as the red lights dimmer. you could barely see his face anymore, just a silhouette that grinds against your lap at each beat of the song playing loudly.

as you nearly slip out a moan, you lean back before your heaving breaths start to accelerate. “suguru.”

“aw,” he coos, feeling your arms wrap around his slender waist. geto’s still swiftly grinding into you, feeling your cute nails claw into his back. the back of your brain kept chanting ‘more, more, more!’

you still have the helmet on, and with the way it’s crooked and could barely fit your head—he found that small detail adorable. as he remained seated on your squished thighs, it was embarrassing to think you were starting to feel yourself erratically throb.

leaning into your neck, he could loudly smell your sheer arousal and it makes him lowly chuckle against the soft shell of your ear. “not satisfied, yeah?” and he lets off a quiet bellowing grunt, feeling your hands trail down his sweaty body once more.

he’s so built, parallel to a literal tank.

geto’s rocking against you in rhythm with the same song that still trumpets through the speakers before whispering. “just say it ‘n i’ll give it to you.”

“you always come to the parties. to pluck the feathers off allll the biiiirds. . ”

the lengthy song continued to drag on—and the busted speakers in the private room sounded like it was about to break from the distortion. it was loud, but your panting breaths was even louder the more geto dances on you.

letting off a longing three second moan once a leg of yours voluntarily hooks around his slim waist, you mewl out a sweet, “i want you. suguru, fuck me.”

“oh. sounds like a demand, sweetheart,” he purrs, and he stills his hips against your lap.

geto’s got a plethora of rings on each of his fingers. pretty silver ‘n gold bands that would wrap around his digits. he had long fingers, thin and perfectly slender.

the more you stared, the more you thought how good they’d fit insi—

“eyes up here,” he cuts you off, and you shudder feeling his palms cup your face. your leg still wraps around his waist before another shortly follows.

he’s barely rocking into you now, and with a bumpy shimmy, you feel his bulge rub against you. “mhm,” geto grunts before meeting your needy gaze once more. as a thumb strokes your bottom lip, pulling it down gingerly, he whispers. “ask nicely. say pretty please.”

“you won’t … charge me extra?” you sheepishly say, beads of perspiring sweat trickling down all sides of your forehead.

geto smugly smiles, grumbling a subtle, ‘nah,’ before making you lean all the way back against the padded sofa. “okay,” you breathe, and you just didnt care anymore.

you wanted him – maybe even needed him..

geto’s hardened bulge that presses against his thong throbs harder before you sweetly murmur,“please, fuck me, suguru.”

“anythin’ for the birthday girl.”

and those words were the same exact words that ran through your mind as you now found yourself in . . quite the risqué position.

you’d be the one straddling geto now. he’s got you in a classic 69, and your pretty perked ass hovers over his face. right in front of you was his weighty fat cock, and it’s a pretty flushed pink with rosy-lime veins prodding from the sides.

you’re whimpering out sweet harmonic keynotes as his long pointed tongue slithers its through your inviting entrance, two broad arms clinging onto your hips. “fuuckk,” he’d groan, feeling you smear a thumb over his leaky mushroomy tip.

you’ve already got him sopping wet from the chin down thanks to your wet cunt – glossy pearly drool seeping from the sides of his dick.

geto’s shaft remains idle, and you wrap a hand around his base before pumping it, rotating your wrist – once, twice, thrice..

he was aching, and the entire time he was giving you a show he had a boner. it was rare, usually whenever he gave lap dances—he was one to never really crack, he was a trained professional and yet here you were.

“mmch,” his swollen puckered lips smack against your cunt as he eats you out entirely from the back.

your mouth drops, jaw dangling— goofily hanging open like a cartoon as he resumes to extends the length of his tongue inside the outskirts of your warm room-temperate-tastin’-pussy.

lolling it out all the way, he licks from top to bottom—stopping at your clenching hole. geto gives it a five second kiss, a sloppy one that glues a mixture of his spit and your slimy juices on his mouth. “sweetheaaart,” he rasps, biting back a greedy groan once he feels you starting to take him in your mouth.

your throat’s seraphic warmth draws a hot sharp breath out of him as he swats a hard palm against your ass for you to start. “when i say move your ass against my face, i fuckin’ mean it. move,” and you let off a candied whimper the second the temporary sting sends singles toward your weeping whiny clit.

feebly, you start to flop your ass up and down against his face and you hear a satisfy ‘hmm’ purr from his lips. you’re moaning, sinking his cock down your throat in the process before your sticky tongue swirls around his angered crownhead. “mmph,” and you take a few inches before you feel his tip swipe against the scaled roof of your mouth.

going back up, it loudly ‘pops!’ out as a bit of sheeny saliva trickles down your chin. you’re taking him deep within no time, and you let off a cute hiccup once his swollen sack paps near your jaw.

so full ‘n round…

you’re breathing through your nose, still shaking your ass against his face, swipin’ his nose occasionally like a credit card with your honeyed-slathered cunt.

his wide flat tongue felt so good that you felt your toes curling each time he playfully nibbles on your sensitive throbbing clit. his tastebuds felt each pulse and it was so hot. “sugu, fuck.”

“i know, i know,” he gruffly whispers against your runny folds. bringing a pair of long twinned fingers towards your pussy, geto strums it down the pulsating slit in a straight pillaring line.

with a bit of pressure—he spreads your lower lips apart, getting a front row seat view of your clit pumpin’ pumpin’ away.

you had such a pretty throb, the prettiest he’s ever seen.

“god, you’re pretty but you’re even prettier down here too,” and not only do you hear him swallow but you feel it too.

a long full gulp, and he’s making sure to savor as much of your sweet slick on his tongue as possible.

geto’s just nasty, and a proud eater. he zigzags his tongue everywhere until your vision’s murky and clouded. you’re left crossed eyed with puffed up cheeks, barely able to focus on his dick that’s laying flat on your tongue.

a hand of his squeezes against your ass before with a mean ‘whack!’ he spanks it again just to see the bouncy recoil. the way a ‘lil fat portion of your ass would jiggle all due to the hasty-rash contact of his palm makes him throb.

and you feel it right in your mouth.

as your head bobbles at a more quick yet languid pace, your tongue skims down one of the many veins that paint down his cock. your repeated moans become muffled, and geto groans at how sloppy you sound—from the front and from behind.

the more he slurps every syrupy drop that dribbles out from your gurgling pussy, his precisely-thorough licks turn into exaggerated four second sucks.

geto softly caresses a hand against the bare skin of your exposed flesh, tugging on your pulled up skirt. pulled to the side were your panties that had a pretty pink star imprinted on the back decorated with glimmery rhinestones. you moan as your back slowly arches inward ‘n out and your knees become to buck.

his tongue, he definitely knew how to eat.

“ ‘s good, juuuus’ like that princess,” he huffs, feeling minuscule dewdrops of your saliva pour down the sides of his cock, slicking all over his base.

your thumb traces a heart over his hefty sack, massaging his tender full testes before you hear geto whine out a sweet, “o- oooh shit,” he was tender there too, huh..

and the sound catches him completely off guard because he grunts, the swaying of his tongue gradually slowing down. geto’s pretty lashes flutter before he grunts, taking a second to breathe. “don’t . . stop, play with ‘em some more,”

“pf—” you pop your mouth off his dick again, wet slimy sounds following as you stroke him off with an closed palm. “are you sure?”

“yeah yeah, ‘m sure,” and there’s a bit of sass in his gruff tone.

geto’s getting flustered, and never in a million years would he admit that you playing with his balls made him feel so good but fuck, it did.

geto paws a hand against your ass before letting off a hurried breathless, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

you went back to bobbling your head up ‘n down, pumping his fleshy pillar of length in your free hand before you start writhing your ass against his face even more quicker. geto moans, a surge of a trill nearly escaping out his gruff vocal chords before he grunts loudly. “mmp,” and your throat was so wet ‘n warm.

it enveloped him entirely, and as your cunt’s sitting over his slick lips—every so often rubbing against his nose and slick-streamed chin, he peppers it with a few kisses.

your hips were arched ‘n askew, and as your tongue occasionally darts down his sensitive slit you hear him grunt again. the burgundy colored sofa pathetically dips inward due to the stacked weight of both rutting bodies. geto’s eyes start to roll their way back as you continue, nearly sucking the soul out of him.

“fuck, baby. spit on it,” he groans, clasping his teeth at your needy clit.

he slides his tongue against your cute bulbous-shaped nub before sucking on it for the umpteenth time. you moan, still tossing your ass around for him in a slow meandering manner, feeling his tongue drag down the slope of your ass again.

geto’s pussy drunk entirely, and he didn’t care if this was against policy, having a customer touch him. when you tasted this divine, he couldn’t help devour your cunt like the starved, starved man he was..

at his words, you spat out translucent globs of saliva from your lips, pasting the slightly curved sides of his dick with your slick mess. “pff,” and you drench him from the base down, twisting his shaft with your wrist before hearing him groan.

geto’s about to finish and you could feel the vigorous pumps of his dick in your mouth growing weaker … and weaker – until, he cums.

geto’s jaw goes slack the moment his peak abnormally reaches, and growls out a husky ‘fuuuuuck,’ with the muscles in his neck tensing.

within a blink of an eye and a snap of a finger, the flat tip of your tongue’s now being sprayed with spritz of waxen cum. it’s a bittersweet taste that coats on your judgy tastebuds, and as you close your eyes with a humming moan departing from your lips, you hear him hiss. his body’s violently shaking, and his hips start to hungrily thrust into your mouth.

you wriggle your ass in face as he’s barely eating you out anymore, frantically heaving as he dumps his all down your pretty tight throat. “fuck, fuck, take it,” and his body still sporadically tremors.

as your mouth’s still full, geto gives your teary wet cunt it’s last few lapping licks before his head collapses back in lecherous defeat.

with cheeks still plumply puffed — his cock remains shoved inside. his aggravated red tip’s just swiping ‘n erupting near the roof of your mouth as you slurp him clean.

you swallow instantaneously, luxuriating in the mildly honey taste before feeling him shudder underneath you. “goddamn, so fuckin’ good. fuckin’ filthy, princess.”

with clammy palms, he turns you over and you lean in to kiss him. geto’s taken by surprise, and as you make him flop back against the velveteen cushion, you made your way on his lap. rough edges of teeth clash and roughly clatter against each other as each tongue plays a more salacious version twister.

geto reclines back, his hands moving toward your rocking waist as he grunts—tasting himself on your tongue. its bitter, but with the help of your lip gloss—it turns far more sweet within seconds. feverish breaths ghosts inside each mouth before you watch him reach near the side of him.

grabbing a half filled up bottle of mousseux, he flicks off the cork with a flick of his middle finger. geto’s eyes still closed as he’s delving his tongue right into your mouth.

the merciless smacking of lips grew louder before he pulls away, huffing breathlessly. “wan’ more of a taste real quick, princess,” and it sounds more like a needy plead. you see how flushed his face was, and geto’s eyes dart straight toward your bare chest. the top you wore was pulled down, clinging near the very bottom of your waist. “c’mere..”

and as you lean in, you watch as geto starts to pour down a small stream of champagne all down your chest. right between your tits, cupping underneath your tummy so none wouldn’t spill further down.

he makes sure a few glosses over your pretty round breasts before he grunts, closing the distance between your chest.

geto buries his face in between the valley of your tits, licking it right up. the bubbly fruity taste lingers on his tongue as he laps you up from top to bottom moaning at the spicy sweetness.

a mixture of your skin and champagne—better than any cocktail this club’s ever served.

“f- fuck,” he moans, lying his tongue flat. geto stares at you the entire time too, and his mouth gradually trails it way toward your damp neglected nipples. he cups his lips around the first nipple—slowly transitioning to the next before slurping the drink right off your body.

a tight breath gets caught in your throat as he continues to lick the rainy drops of sugary champagne off your body. geto groans, savoring the taste before with a loud ‘plop’, he pops your tender wet nipple out of his mouth.

there’s nothing but utter lust and infatuation in his eyes—and he then gets up to kiss you. the room’s nearly pitch dark without the help of the dim effulgent red lights that shined against you both. it added to the mood perfectly.

as tongues continue to try to assert dominance, you moan right in the dancer’s mouth, returning the gesture of swapping gauzy strings of gossamer spit.

abruptly though, you pull away, gently pushing geto back against the sofa.

with a raspy ‘ugh,’ geto lands on his back as you give him a light shove. he’s at your mercy, and you stand up from his lap, a wind of confidence coming out of nowhere and nearly pulling you forward.

he stares at you with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, watching you do a figure eight with your body.

“what’s . . this?” he huffs, burly arms stretching over each edge of the sofa. you looked so pretty, eyeing him up and down as he does the exact same to you.

the luminescent lights started to beam on you now, highlighting your curves and entire physique.

“lie back,” you murmur, slowly sashaying toward him. geto runs a hand through his hair, his dick twitching from the cool air wafting against it. you teasingly drag a finger down the scarred middle line of his bare-puffed chest, stopping at a hardened row of his brick-made abs. “i wanna try your little routine.”

“yeahh?” geto snickers, sucking in a sharp breath once you spin around, bending all the way over. the helmet that was still on your head—you put it back on him, watching him scoff at your audacity.

so you stole his profession now, great.

as you’re turned the other way, you slowly wriggle your ass in front of him, putting a hand over your sopping pussy and he kisses his teeth. “tch. don’t tease, sweetheart,” and geto’s allured stare fixates on you the entire time. his dilated irises frantically roamed around every and any part of your body like a laser. “fuck,” he grunts, watching you finally make your way on his lap.

geto’s all submissively underneath you—bare ‘n exposed with his poor tip flushed. its color was a sheeny carmine red that’s akin to a ripe cerise rose.

a few dried up splotches of cum stick near his weighty sides before he shudders. your ass sits on his flaccid dick before you start to move.

slowly,

you’re rutting into him—just like he was to you, grinding back and forth. geto looks so pretty though, underneath you. he’s still panting a bit, sweating bullets as you tease him with your crazed hips.

you weren’t at his level quite yet, but fuck could you move. geto groans, feeling your sloppy pussy rub off against his dick. you were so close to his tip that his foreskin would peel back a bit. “do you wanna touch me?”

touché..

geto narrows his eyes at you as you tease him, repeating his exact words from what he said to you earlier.

he doesn’t just touch you, he fucks you—

but in this case . . you fuck him.

geto holds back a moan as he’s watching his claret-colored cockhead disappear between your sappy folds. it’s like a magic trick, and with a ‘poof!’ half of length vanished within you.

you let off a soft shrilling whine, trying to writhe yourself around his length.

his dick was fat. ‘eyes-rolling-tongue-lolling-drag-your-nails-down-his back-’ type of fat.

and his girth only made things ten times more intense. you felt him rearranging your guts within each prolonged inch you took – literally.

you’re as slow as a snail with the way you try to take him wholly. even as you’re gingerly sinking your bare ass down with his cock snug ‘n deep inside you, he easily kisses against your g-spot.

it’s happening already, and you don’t even realize he’s fully in before a cooing whimper rawly snatches from the back of your dry esophagus. “oh fuck,” you huff, tossing your arms around the dark haired man.

geto’s got the same wide-eye-jaw-dropped reaction to you, and with one arm snaking around your waist—another’s tightly gripping onto your right ass cheek.

he spanks it, giving it a short squeeze afterward. your chest starts to heave in quickened intervals, and once he feels you starting to move it’s game fuckin’ over..

“god, pussy’s ‘ta die for,” he groans, eyes sexily rolling back until his sockets show nothing but white.

you had him whipped, and he can hear your cunt trying to have a word of its own, squelching out cute gargled squelches. you start to ride him at a mere hypnotic rhythm—and geto’s a lot more vocal now.

with his adam’s apple bobbing, both hands of his were now gripping onto your waist now. piles of money surround you too, a few sticking against his sweaty beefy thighs. “fuck me,” he grunts, and it’s more like he’s begging.

geto locks eyes with you, shaggy long bangs running past his eyes before he securely grabs your hips—trying to keep up pace with you. “mhm, thaaa’s it. ride it, ride . . the shit out of me, uuughhh.”

“ ‘m trying,” you moan, biting your lip each time his swollen cockhead plummets its way deep.

he’s just so big—you couldn’t wrap your head around how a guy could be so damn big.

the good kind of big, and each time he’d seep a single girthy inch into you, your stomach would churn like butter. he’s in sooo deep, your legs could barely support yourself anymore and he had to hold you steady.

as he pulls you all the way down, geto reaches waaay inside of your sloppy gripping cunt that’s oh-so desperate to wring him like a vice.

his thick cock greets your pretty fleshy cervix, mimicking a soft ‘knock’ before introducing itself with a welcoming pound.

he holds your hips, pumping himself into you again, and again, until your pussy remembered each stroke, each thrust, each fuckin’ letter of his name—front to last..

slow but fucking deep.

you gasp, clinging onto his neck before soft hurried pants of ‘yeah, yeah’ ‘s scurry past your glossed lips.

geto’s dewy eyes were half lidded and he’s never felt more pussy drunk in his life. trust—he’s had his fair share of women but oh, you were far different. it was something about you, and he just wanted more after each carnal second passed.

you’re so into his dick givin’ your pussy a fuck of a lifetime that you don’t even realize your hand was now wrapped around his thick neck. not too tight, but geto’s reaction time was slow also. once he realizes seconds after you did, he sheepishly scoffs before slyly humming.

“goddd, y’r so fuckin’ hot when you choke me,” he purrs, tugging at the panties that pull to the side of your thighs. of course he’d enjoy it, and as his dick’s still massaging your gummy walls, he moans. “harderrr.”

“don’t be greedy,” you mumble, burying your knees into his bulky thighs.

the way you rocked against him was hypnotic—and geto’s hands remain on your waist.

you nearly shudder, feeling the various cold bands of his rings run and tickle down your skin. he’s in love with your body, and even more in love with the way you feel from the inside.

leaning in close until you’re just inches away from his spit-slicked lips, your thumb runs its way down the bulging ball that lies inside his throat. “say ‘pretty pleaseee.’ ”

“tsk,” geto scowls, and even with a pout he’s effortlessly attractive. your hips continued to champion its way up ‘n down at a deranged pace as you moved, and his cock’s pumping you full over and over and over. with a vexed grunt, he utters. “pretty please, choke me harder.”

leaning in to kiss the side of his mouth, you whisper a crooning, “good boy,” and geto whines the moment you add a bit more pressure around his neck.

his hair’s all in his face, and your ass was just ruthless.

ferociously slamming down onto his stout cock, you’re drenching him from the base down with your syrup-coated slick. a bit of your own sloppy arousal glues against the pried apart crevices of your thighs—pasting against his as well.

it’s a mess, and with how close he was getting, he was about to create an even bigger one..

geto felt like he was ascending—and with how you were riding him, it didn’t take him long before he’s close again.

yet this time—so were you, and you could recognize the feeling all too well. geto’s cock stretched you to capacity, and he grabs the few dollar bills that scatter on the sofa, throwing it at your body whilst you rode him. he makes it rain on you, spanking your ass with a crumbled up hundred rubbing against your stung skin.

“fuck, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum again,” he grunts in your ear, feeling your pace accelerate by a mile. you were draining him, preparing to milk him and the thought of him stuffing your cunt full made you pulse.

your tongue salivated at just imagining it..

the warmth, the stickiness, the way it’d spill between your thighs. you’re moaning out sweet noises yourself as you both rut into each other at a demented overzealous pace. geto’s thick thighs clench—and while you’re letting out cute blubs of his name on repeat until it’s the only syllables your dumb brain could register—he pulls you close. “ngh, same time, pretty girl. cum with me, let’s make a . . hah, mess together.”

“okay,” you mewl out, both hips pivoting in lascivious unison.

both sweaty mounds of flesh blissfully bounce into at other and each squelch makes you whimper out in ecstasy.

you cup geto’s pecs, smearing a thumb over his pierced nipples and he whines instantly. you lean in to suck against the bars that slash through his tender areola. geto leans back manspread, growling out husky, ‘fuuuuck!’ ‘s as you hum, giving both his nipples its few seconds of attention.

it lasts for seconds that felt like years, and one you pull away he lets out a cute blasé huff.

as your cunt’s in the midst of overflowing—your hips tremor once more time before within milliseconds, you both cum.

it’s quick..

and with your jaw dropping and geto’s shoulders fatally sagging after his big, heavy sigh—he starts to fill you up ounce after ounce.

it’s patching hot, and the second he’s beginning to spill ‘n dump out his perfect ivory ribbons of cum inside of you, you grunt out a melodic finishing, “fuuuck.”

swinish, weak hands grab at your ass as you come undone also—whimpering soft defeating babbles from the sensitive feeling of your cunt spasming right between your jittery numb legs.

you feel static … shock, electricity pulsing through your veins all at once. your entire body was turning haywire. as you start to grow limb right with geto underneath you—nirvana runs through each individual axon on your body before you hear a loud ‘pop.’

it’s more of a sopping squishing sound, and you were so dumbed down from his dick that you didn’t even realized how full you were..

peeking down, he filled you to the brim. wads and wads and wads of cum went inside of you and you moan, spreading your ass apart while craning your neck around just to see for yourself.

“ ‘m so full, suguru,” you pant, sliding a thumb down your sputtering cunt that’s plugged with both his cock and his thin oozing seed. you lick your lips before turning back towards geto and he’s absolutely fucked stupid.

you rode him so good to the point where he’s just stammering out inaudible whines. it’s cute, and you lean in to kiss him once more.

oh.. he was hooked.

he deepens with a few clingy hands feeling at your chest. the kiss gets more passionate rather than sloppy, and as he’s still buried inside of your cunt—he slowly starts to trail butterfly kisses down your neck. you moan, turning your head before you pull away. “shit, i almost f- forgot.”

“forgot what?” he hoarsely rasps, watching you unalign yourself, plopping down on the sofa with a big content sigh.

geto leans in, allowing his thumb to draw circles around your hips before you reach in for your purse, pulling out another decorated vip pass.

sheepishly, you utter. “my friends bought me two sessions with two dancers. so i have another one after you,” and you glance at the clock, squinting before you let off a bashful titter. “. . . oh, that was way past thirty minutes.”

“who? what dancer, sweetheart?” geto utters with a pout. he was still aching, already missing his you felt from the inside. he watches as you squint at your pass that reads the dancer’s stage name and / or full name on the back.

“uhh, it says t—”

“she means me,” and the both of you spin heads, ogling at the glittery red carpet and decorated pathway that was once covered up.

you could hear geto that laid beside you muttering out a jealous, ‘fuck,’ as you meet the other dancer’s gaze.

he’s wearing a leopard thong with an added on accessory of the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen.

a slashed scar runs down the right side of his crooked curved lips and you spot bills sticking at both sides of his halfway on thong that nearly shows his sharp hips before he hums.

“name’s toji,” and you’re suddenly being lifted up by strong, tatted brawny arms before he turns around, winking at a very pissed of geto before trodding out the private room with you in his arms.

“i’ll take it from here,” and feral green eyes with an even more feral grin. “ain’t that right, birthday girlll?”

[sadlazzle]

i got so sad watching alexander die tht i left a message where he exploded died. if u come across likely sadness in farum azula that’s me