#Fake HOA

[nonooddo]

ACHEY BREAKY NEWS……

With all the predictability of heartbreak in a country song - the twists and turns of the Oddo attempt to desecrate our neighborhood has taken yet another twist. The April 2 date, that was insisted upon by Oddo, for the Full City Council vote on the wretched development proposal - has been postponed.…!

Apparently it’s now been moved to April 16. Were the City Fathers moved by all the reasonable pleas that this hideous apartment plan was being rushed…? Don’t be an idiot!

After literally HUNDREDS of us write in to the City saying ‘this is going too fast’, after we have meetings at City Hall and tell staff ‘this is too fast’, after we show up en mass at the Planning Commission and say ‘this is too fast’, after we hire a lawyer to plead the case - 'THIS IS TOO FAST' - all of that is ignored. HOWEVER - THE SECOND Oddo says 'jump'- they don’t even bother to ask how high - they just start jumping…!!

Olathe, KS gets a new City Flag

What kind of a Banana Republic is Olathe? I guess we all already know because we are all too used to this type of shit. Witness - earlier today the news came out from the Cedar Creek ‘Developer-owned’ HOA that the Landowners closest to the Oddo development site had finally gotten round to filing a Protest Petition.

(Now a Protest Petition is a technical petition that certain close - within 200 feet - neighboring landowners can file. If it’s filed, on time, after a planning commission decision, it changes the vote requirement to pass a planning measure at the Full Council from Simple Majority to Super Majority.)

WE OWN ENOUGH OF THE QUALIFIED land to have filed that Protest Petition immediately. We - the homeowners. However… as you now know, we don’t control our own assets. We don’t control our HOA. We don’t even control the name of our neighborhood. (Ask the people who have pissed off the developers and because they referred to their own neighborhood the developers are threatening to sue them…! Remarkable True Story in the Olathe Banana Republic!)

The Protest Petition discussions were among developers only…!

So here in our own ‘hood, we don’t have an HOA that is opposing the desecration of the main entrance to Cedar Creek by a rapacious developer. No… our HOA IGNORED the fact of hundreds of letters, thousands of signatures and every actual indication of opposition by all the homeowners - and it kept silent.

The OVERWHELMING response of homeowners - of Opposition to Oddo - has been ABSENT from ‘our’ HOA’s considerations. Instead we were machined against. Talked down to. Told to behave. Patronized and they even tried to bully us with threats, belittling and smears. That was the response of ‘our’ HOA…

However - when the developers that control everything out here in Cedar Creek fell out and then - accidentally did the right thing, albeit for the wrong reasons, and sided with homeowners for ONCE, then THAT is big news…!

Cue a full email blast from the FakeOA, cue some whitewashed details about the ‘discussions’ to fix the Oddo abomination…! Of course WE were not present, this was “Developers Only”. Acting like C19th Colonial Powers carving up the world, we only get told what they want us to know - after the fact. And all we are supposed to do is shout “God Save The Kaiser, or Czar, or King…!” As tho our masters had done something good - for us…! (And not something patently in their own financial interests…!)

So don’t be surprised when this song ends in heartbreak. It is as inevitable as a country tear jerker - and about as synthetic. And the next chapter can be predicted too…

Watch out for Oddo revisions to his shitty plans - something to buy off (or rather buy back) some of that ‘other developer political capital’ he just burned through. Will we be at the table next time…? Hell no, don’t be an idiot…!

…This is still Olathe Kansas…Y’all…!

[wolfblood-of-anubis]

au where when eddie becomes the new sibuna leader, he and fabian just end up in similar fabina situations, including the upclose hiding and slight flirting.

this would mean that fabian rutter managed to pull both the chosen one and the osirian.

[ultrabananapudding]

It appears that I've become the most annoying person right after watching Bridgerton Season 2 bc now I'm obsessed with anything that is Kanthony.

In other news, House of Ashes x Bridgerton crossover...... In which the Marines are the Bridgerton family and the Othmans will mirror the Sharmas storyline of season 2.

Ofc Jason will be taking Anthony's place as the viscount trying to marry out of duty rather than love, and Salim will mirror Kate as his constant foil. That unfortunately leaves Zain to take Edwinas place as the one Jason will initially go after which makes me cringe just thinking about it (Zain will be Salims son rather than his sibling, and that dynamic would make things even weirder unfortunately) 😭

I do wanna tweak the story a bit so it's more specific to Jalim rather than being copy paste of the Kanthony storyline, but one thing for certain is that Jason gets to wear suits and Salim gets to be in pretty dresses !!

Also, Kanthony in HoA where they get to team up and kill vampires together.... Very hot.

I blame this on @ctrvpani for even putting this idea in my head to begin with 🤝

[bleaksqueak]

Made a new yard pot since the ivy outside was blooming. Will probably grab the coffin planter thats currently under this one and do something new with it. I was keeping pennywort in it but one of the bad babies ate it all (animals are generally forbidden from my work desk, but they sneak on sometimes… that’s why all the toxic plants are high display only)… so it’s just sitting there empty.

Yard pots are fun tho, and look quite nice.

[queerdiazs]

snippet sunday ⛈

this is WAY more than seven sentences but sometimes i just can't be bothered to count, especially after the day i had okay

but please enjoy hoa eddie being an absolute fuckin menace

“Actually, Mr. Diaz,” Henry starts, and it’s the tone of his voice, snarky and superior and fuck, Eddie’s encountered enough people in his life with this attitude to know he’s not the one, spent enough time in detention at school to know he’s not the one, but he spins around, anyway, because he’s a glutton, “you have to pay ten dollars for every person that spends the night.”  “Huh?”  “Yes,” Henry plows on, as if he’s clarified something. Eddie’s just as lost now as he was two seconds ago. “Your friend—Buck, I think. You have to pay ten dollars for every guest that stays over.”  That’s stupid. Like, his son is a popular kid, right, and he’s got loads of friends—more than Eddie ever had at that age but hey, his kid is fucking amazing—and now that he has a larger house with an even larger backyard, he knows there’s going to be weekends where his place is full of teenagers. He’s not paying ten dollars a head for Christopher’s friends.  Besides, Buck has his own room at the house. That has to count for something.  “He’s not a guest. My home is his home, too.”   Henry shrugs. “I don’t make the rules,” he says, and Eddie’s pretty sure that’s a lie since his photo is hanging up on the wall behind his chair. “Unless they’re part of the household or a partner, you have—” “He is.”  “Excuse me?”  An idea forms in the front of Eddie’s brain, one his sister’s would be laughing over since they’ve always had a way of reading his mind, and says, “He is. Buck, I mean. He’s my partner.”  “Romantic?”  Eddie makes a noise. “Does it matter?” He snorts a laugh, one that hurts his throat, and shoves his hand through his hair because he has got to get himself under control. What the fuck is he doing? “He’s my—my Buck. He’s mine.”  “Oh.” Henry taps his fingers against the desk. “I didn’t know that.”  “Yeah, well, it’s none of your business,” Eddie bites, a little meaner than he ought to be, but he can’t be blamed. Buck and Chris are waiting at home for him with dinner and dessert, and he’s here, haggling with a stranger over the special place Buck holds in his heart, and Buck’s worth ten dollars, worth ten gazillion dollars, more, yeah, but it’s the principle of the thing. “Now, I’m going home to him and my son. I’ll see you later, Harley.”  He snatches a pamphlet off the desk, turns around, again, and makes his way out of the office, ignoring the flustered call of, “My name’s Henry, actually!” because he’s tired, worked a 12 hour shift without his normal team because he owed a favor to the rookie on B shift, and he wants to go home, needs to go home to relax and decompress and eat some fucking cake, and this little club isn’t going to ruin another one of his nights. 

i was tagged by @hippolotamus, @jesuisici33, @callaplums, @honestlydarkprincess, @wikiangela, and @daffi-990

and i'm gonna no pressure tag @callmenewbie, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @eddiediaztho, @exhuastedpigeon, @try-set-me-on-fire, @ladydorian05, and anybody else mwah

[huehoa17]

[cattailtales]

jfc so @/omgthatdress made a post basically accusing all palstinian gfm asks of being bots, got a bunch of people in their notes explaining why that’s not only incredibly callous but also just flat out wrong and why, didn’t respond to almost any of it, then made a second post like a week later p much doubling down on that racist bullshit and basically calling all the people telling them off stupid like. badjokesbyjeff…..2! levels of fucking ignorance istg we can’t have shit on here

[thechosenanubis]

Eddie Miller and Steve Harrington are the same person in different fonts.

[simgerale]

we just put a deposit down on a home to rent for a year

[shynerdwantscuddles]

No one wants me!!! This town only contains old straight people!!! Aahhhh I hate it here!!!!

[yackers]

controversial maybe but something about kt, eddie and fabian’s chemistry in 3a just wasn’t quite as good as it could’ve been? like they spent soo much time together in wacky scenarios and in pairs they were really fun and interesting and I just don’t feel like the writing carried that through into the trio??

[nonooddo]

Taken in the wild areas of Cedar Creek, on the morning of March 14, 2024. ©️

This is one of the reasons we don’t want Oddo. We already have enough neighbors - and, unlike Oddo, we like them…!

[wolfblood-of-anubis]

Joy Mercer, daughter of Nemesis, goddess of retribution, vengeance, and balance.

Eddie Miller, son of Apollo, god of oracles, light, music, archery, and protection of the young.

KT Rush, daughter of Hecate, goddess of magic, transitions, and crossroads.

[anartificialsatellite]

The older I get the more I admire people who are earnestly, genuinely into whatever their thing is. I know it sounds like an annoying cliche but unless you're being cruel or hurtful there is really no need to be normal about things. The dude with the bad fake accent at the renaissance faire is having the time of his life. The people having photoshoots with their fashion dolls are loving it. The old lady with a yard unreasonably full of tacky ass lawn ornaments is having a blast, HOA be damned.

Don't waste your time being too cool to have fun, y'know?

[queerdiazs]

wip wednesday ✨

hii 🫶🏼 hoa eddie is giving me fits but i simply don't care, that bitch is going to suffer from the shenanigans he's caused one way or another, so please enjoy him being a goofy goober

He lays his chin on Buck’s shoulder, stuffs his face against Buck’s neck and breathes deep. He shuts his eyes and smiles. “Did you use my shampoo?”  “Your soap, too.”   Eddie laughs. “It smells nice on you,” he says, inhaling deeply one more time before opening his eyes and staring down at the catastrophe in the skillet. “Buck, I think you burned that piece of bacon.”  “S’fine,” Buck says, jerky and stunted, and stabs the overcooked piece of bacon a couple times before he gets enough leverage to pull it out of the grease. It’s charred and dark next to the other pieces on the paper towel. “I’ll still eat it.”  Humming, Eddie nuzzles his face across Buck’s shoulder. “Are we just having bacon?”  “There’s still some of that pudding cake leftover in the refrigerator.”  “Bacon and cake for breakfast?” Eddie pinches Buck’s side, eliciting a small giggle that has the stiffness in his shoulders dissipating. Whatever it is that’s weighing on Buck is still heavy, then, but not so big that Eddie can’t take it every once in a while. He doesn’t mind being Buck’s rock whenever he needs to. “Yum.”  “And coffee.” Buck flicks Eddie’s forehead, just hard enough it makes a funny little noise, and adds a few more pieces of bacon. “Breakfast of champions.”  Eddie wrinkles his nose and snuffles, kind of like a puppy, and tugs on a piece of Buck’s wet hair. “I’m glad you’re here, Buck,” he says, and it’s all ooey-gooey emotions in his tummy, too-sweet and sticky like honey, and, oh, that’s different. That’s very… different. “I’ve got a lot of laundry to do and you’re my favorite little helper.”  “But I’m injured,” Buck whines, pouting his fat bottom lip out.  “Are you?” Eddie smile, ear to ear. “I thought you said you were okay.”  Buck fakes a cough in Eddie’s face, tongue out and all, because he’s a brat. “See? Injured.” He shrugs. “Guess I can’t help with laundry at all.”  Eddie’s grin widens so far his cheeks chub up. “You’re so fuckin’ adorable, Buck,” he says before he can stop his heart from talking out of his mouth. And it’s fine, maybe, that he’s got shit for brains sometimes, because Buck’s face lights up in a glowing red blush that has Eddie’s heart beating a little fast in his chest. He wonders if Buck can hear the thudding; it’s loud enough and they’re so close Eddie can feel Buck’s heat. “Buck—” “Eddie—” Christopher’s alarm, fucking Crazy Train, rips through the kitchen and startles both Eddie and Buck apart. Eddie’s heart races and Buck’s face is as red as the tomatoes sitting in the windowsill and perhaps it’s a good thing they were interrupted because Eddie’s not exactly sure what he was going to say. 

i was tagged by @wildlife4life, @wikiangela, @honestlydarkprincess, @fortheloveofbuddie, @disasterbuckdiaz, @thewolvesof1998, @daffi-990, @try-set-me-on-fire, and @callaplums mwah i adore all of you

and i'm casually no pressure tagging @eddiebabygirldiaz, @eddiediaztho, @callmenewbie, @exhuastedpigeon, @jesuisici33, and everybody else who wants to partake in the tomfoolery

[laligraves]

morning run

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters. 

You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block. 

“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?” 

“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion. 

“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.” 

She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.” 

You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood. 

“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!” 

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.” 

She throws a sponge at your head. 

“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge. 

“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!” 

You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan. 

You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood. 

She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations. 

So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you. 

You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you. 

Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway. 

“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?” 

He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away. 

You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.   

“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.” 

“I agree, you can run anytime you want–” 

“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”

He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.  

“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.” 

“Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.” 

Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?” 

“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–” 

“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.” 

“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”

Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth. 

“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.” 

With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.  

- 

You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband. 

Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller . 

You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens. 

“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself. 

“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right. 

You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact. 

“Good morning,” you whisper. 

He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin. 

“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair. 

You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it. 

“How did you know–” 

“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk. 

His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope. 

“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?” 

He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate. 

“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.” 

His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts. 

“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples. 

“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?” 

His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face. 

As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face. 

“How dare you–”  

“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.” 

Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met. 

“Let me go or I’ll scream–”

“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?” 

Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape. 

Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.

He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him. 

“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds. 

She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide. 

“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”  

Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?  

“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust. 

You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape. 

“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.” 

Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.  

He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts. 

“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?” 

“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.” 

Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan. 

Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her. 

“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?” 

Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind. 

“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.” 

You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt. 

“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.” 

A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock. 

“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.” 

You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance. 

“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out. 

“That the community is already perfect, Susan.” 

His voice sounds annoyed at this point. 

“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–” 

Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit. 

“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.” 

Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size. 

“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.” 

You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs. 

Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure. 

“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?” 

“ Y–yes ,” you whisper. 

“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.” 

Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge. 

“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”

You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment. 

You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart. 

Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate. 

“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers. 

“ Please, Joel,” you whine. 

He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up. 

You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.

Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.

He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.

Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.

You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.

You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.

"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.

"What? No, why?"

"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch." 

Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from.