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nouearth · 1 year ago

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baby-sitting for miguel o'hara. (part ii)

miguel o'hara x m!reader headcanons.

part i.

warnings: smut, perverted!miguel, top!miguel, soft!miguel at times!!, bottom!male reader, small!male reader, thoughts of sex, fantasy!sex, masturbation, humping, kinda domestic idk.

notes: it's been a long time coming. 💀 i honestly was struggling to find like a plot for the second part, or just how to move forward. lmao. but i hope this turned out okay???

—never again, miguel promised himself that night.

—it had been a few weeks since he last jerked off to your briefs. the blue undergarment that he came into were thrown somewhere under his bed, far from his reach.

—and as tempting as it was to smell you again, he mustered up the courage to leave the stained fabric alone.

—for good.

—miguel despised what he had become.

—settling his sex life on a lone piece of fabric, it was pathetic.

—from dusk til dawn, you participated in a triathlon of his delirious state of mind and competed for several awards that would then be mediated by miguel.

—had it been a real competition, he would’ve been fired for exhibiting extreme favoritism because you’d win all the trophies and medals.

—a ‘helping hand’ award he would award you a few mornings ago, where he jerked off to the thought of you giving him a handjob during his lunch break.

—multiple ‘most improved’ awards for when you were able to throat his cock a little more than before.

—and another for when your ass was able to take miguel in without needing to pause or adjust for his size, even if the strain of your facial expressions told a different story.

—gagging in between moans, coughing out thick globs of spit, wincing in bittersweet pain when he pushed in, arching in complete pleasure when he pushed out.

—he loved the idea of watching and hearing you struggle because of his cock.

—though, it was only until recently when he began feeling a strong sense of guilt for portraying you in such a manner.

—it was a promotion at work that allowed his hours to be more flexible than before, and miguel utilized that to the fullest by spending every waking second with his daughter.

—and you.

—even when he came home early, he never sent you home.

—maybe it was the perfect opportunity to get one step closer into your pants.

—or maybe he wanted to get to know the babysitter that gabriella had taken an extreme liking to.

—get to know the babysitter that had somehow made miguel feel something more than simply lust.

—you hungry? you haven’t taken your eyes off of your thesis paper since i got here.

—hm...?

—that night, you’d look up at him with those bright eyes, that bright smile that latched onto miguel’s adam apple and made it hard for him to swallow.

—it was as radiant as the first time he saw you. one wouldn’t be able to tell that you’ve been pulling all-nighters for the past few weeks.

—oh! i guess i’m a little hungry. i haven’t eaten since breakfast—

—breakfast? i told you that you could rummage through the pantries, right? you practically live here at this point.

—i know, i know! once i get in the zone, i kind of forget about everything… except for gabriella! it’s funny. as loud as her cries are, they’re kind of my savior right now.

—hm...

—it’s getting late, so i’ll just whip up something at home—

—no, stay. i’ll cook something.

—sir, you don’t have to—

—miguel’s chest swelled. that word again.

—i’m cooking. stay, or i’m firing you for wasting my ingredients.

—hey, unfair! pretty sure that’s a violation of our contract or something!

—it didn’t take long for it to become a regular occurrence.

—miguel would cook a late dinner for two, and he’d join you on the couch with a plate of what the limit of his culinary skills could whip up.

—it wasn’t like this every day, but it was often, which was more than what miguel could ask for.

—he would use the little time he had with you to learn about you more. your interests, your background, your passions, your personality, and you’d do the same.

—on some nights, he’d proof-read your thesis paper and provide some feedback that you would immediately take in consideration and make the changes to your paper.

—on many nights, he’d simply close your laptop and force you to take a break because as alluring as those recent eye bags were, your health was a priority.

—stay for the night. it’s late.

—i’m almost done for the night! i just have a few more—

—nope, you’ve used up all your excuses. i’m confiscating this.

—where am i even supposed to sleep?!

—and on those many nights, you’d end up sleeping on miguel’s couch despite the persistent offers of his comfier bed.

—there would be times where you two would chat into the night while the tv played in the background.

—you’d ask each other about your day, tell stories about gabriella, bond over shared interests, fueled debates over a quality of a certain movie, until fatigue hit either you or miguel.

—usually you were the first one to fall asleep, and he would watch you silently.

—the flickering lights from the tv would accentuate your features in the night, and he never knew he could find you even more handsome.

—your complete vulnerability was enticing.

—you would curl into the blanket he’d given you, and miguel would take the time to count the seconds it would take for you to exhale your dreams.

—the longer it was, the deeper you were into your sleep.

—it wouldn’t be until thirty exhales more that miguel would send himself to bed.

—five seconds, miguel would find himself mimicking the pattern of your breath before he drifted off into the night.

—then there would be nights where the subject matter would be more personal, more than miguel would have liked.

—does it get lonely sometimes?

—i’d be lying if i said no. not all the time, though. i have gabriella.

—huh…

—is that why you’re a complete grump all the time?

—watch it.

—i’m kidding! good thing you have me too, right?

—yeah.

—good thing i have you too… miguel sighed heavily at the empty side of his bed, staring into the darkness until the shadows from the night had forged a shape of your body.

—he closed his eyes when he felt a whisper of your lips near his, barely ghosting over his pair, and stroke himself to the possible reality of you becoming his.

—fuck... he then lied on his stomach and began humping into the bed, against the bed sheets, and held the imagination of your body close to his own, protecting you like his life depended on it.

—i need you… miguel pressed his face into the pillow, inhaling the memory of your shampoo as he polished his hips further into the bed.

—his cock rubbed in between his body and the soft sheets as he’d imagine unsheathing himself in and out of you at a slow yet steady pace.

—because he needed to savor you.

—he would imagine how you’d respond with every thrust.

—your words would glue to your throat because you’d be too overwhelmed by his size, by the pleasure that miguel would finally be delivering to you, by the doting hold around you, and with the aid of his hips, your words would like crystallized honey.

—miguel would push his cock into you deeper, taking in the sound of your voice into his with a warm kiss. — i—

—you would draw out sounds from your throat until they were practically begs when miguel would pull out excruciatingly slow to tease, then a demand as he would doubt your confession by cautiously following the outline of your pucker with the tip of his cock.

— need—

—his hips would lift, then come down onto you like hail. hard and sudden as his cock would ram into your tight fill, knock your breath back into the tight of your throat.

— you—

—you need him.

—miguel could tell from the way you completed allowed him to invade your reserve until he was balls-deep inside of you.

—from the way he’d pull out once more and your hole would memorize the shape of his cock, down to his thick girth. puckering to the recollection of his throbbing veins.

—and he’d be the one to bridge the puzzle pieces together as he would press himself forward and bend your legs back before slamming his cock back into you with the delirious evocation of lust.

—you would stifle your moans into your forearm as the bed rocked to the strong rhythm of miguel’s thrusts, but he’d pull your arms away and hold your wrists above your head.

—he needed to hear you.

—hear how much you wanted him, how much you needed him.

— i’m going to come—

—you’d grunt in between the heavy and sticky sounds of your skin colliding against one another, into the thick air that you and miguel had mutually forged together.

—his other hand had been wrapped around your cock, jerking the throbbing muscle to every count of his balls bouncing off your bottom.

—he would squeeze and stroke, your pre-cum coming down in thick drips, and he would thumb at the slippery wet slip until the pad of his thumb was layered in your thick substance.

—until his fist was covered in a glorious amount of your warm cum, inking him deep with your devotion before feeding you of your own need.

—he would bring his hand up to you and slip two fingers inside of your mouth. your tongue would slowly roll over his cum-covered digits, sucking the bittersweetness off of him.

—it wouldn’t be long until it would be miguel’s turn.

—miguel would continue bringing the remaining fingers up to your mouth for you to cleanse him off, and it would be enough for him to have him in shambles.

—imagining you devour your own sweet lust until all five of his fingers were polished clean awakened him to another level of pure ecstasy, and miguel groaned, rocking desperately into his bed.

—your warm hands would all over his toned body, fueling the tension in his stomach as you would prioritize the center of his abdomen.

—fuck, come in me—

—miguel would his weight onto you, his large body practically devouring you in sheer size as the heat and sweat confined you to the parameters, and he’d hold you close once more by slipping his arms around you.

—a cycle of thrusts quickened every round and you held onto him. kissing at the side of his neck. suckling at the round of his shoulder.

—i’m coming… he muttered to himself, to no one but the wrinkled sheets beneath him, and fucked his cock harder into his bed.

—and when you heard a shudder coming from the depths of miguel’s strained throat, you licked a stripe at the center of his throat to pacify him, making your way to the plush of his lips, and kissed him at the pivot of his climax.

—miguel would exhale hard against your mouth before kissing you and spilling delirious moans into the captivity when he would begin flooding your insides with his thick and warm cum.

—heavy ropes would ricochet off your violated inside, but miguel would press into you closer, harder, and intimately so, until your foreheads were bruised into one another.

—in occurring reality, miguel painted his bed sheets in thick layers of warmth and musk. layers of cum wetting his bed as he desperately held onto his fantasies with sensitive rolls of his hips.

—his tongue would tangle into yours, practicing a slow, sensitive waltz as his softening cock would sink deep into your hole.

—and you would moan and suckle around him as you felt every drop of cum warm you from the inside and out, shielding you from the goosebumps that would frost your skin.

—the kiss would remain its passionate dance as you both relaxed into each other. your legs unwrapped to tangle into miguel’s, expertly lifting the blanket over your feet in the process.

—he would hold you tighter once he broke the kiss, turning you on your side as he lied flat on his back.

—your head would rest on his chest after pulling the remaining blanket up to your bodies and you would sigh, suddenly feeling drowsier with miguel’s warm caress aiding sleep against your back.

—for the remaining moment, he would gaze at the sheen of sweat that highlighted the flush of your skin.

—he would listen to the beat your heart, slowly coming to its resting pace as you succumb to sleep under the spell of his doting touch.

—and he would strangely feel a need to hold you, shelter you inside of his arms because he feared something would happen to you.

—fuck.

—miguel quickly rolled back onto his back in the midst of catching his breath, the shadows that had formed the image of you unfurling into obscurity.

—he felt his heart race, bullets rebounding off the beating surface like a drum, and he placed a hand over his chest to pacify at the sudden swell of his chest. —i think i love you.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x male reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x y/n #nou.fics

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theeternalwombtarot · 2 years ago

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how does your person view intimacy with you (18+)

This could be someone you’re in a relationship with or someone who really loves you, whose really infatuated with you pile one, I’m hearing they go out of their way for you, they bend over backwards for you. To get to you. To see you. You could be a water sign or this person is a water sign. This queen of cups energy really has to do with emotions and being compassionate and caring but I also see it having a lot to do with you just having really good p*ssy or really good d*ck or something but im getting that a good amount of you are feminine energies and may be women. Someone would go to jail behind it, go to jail behind you. You might drive this person crazy this person is really impulsive about you and they aren’t like that for anyone else. You bring out a side of this person that’s reserved only for you.

I’m hearing this person saying you get them there everytime. I hear this person saying you’re magic or your body is magic. This person could have a lot of fantasies about you as well that has me thinking of that unreleased song by Ariana right now that’s really popular.

I fantasize about it all the time

If you were mine

I'd give this p*ssy to you, nine-to-five, five-to-nine

Try to behave, but I'm feelin' some type of way

That just ain't me

I’m kinda getting with the rest of the lyrics that some of you could be seeing someone else or dating someone else right now and this person might not have seen you in a while or they’re waiting around for you to break up with person so they can see you again. They just can’t wait to see you again. Idk this person feels like this person doesn’t deserve you. I hear them saying “they can’t f*ck you like I do.” Or like that song that goes “ya’ll don’t look right together. You look like mines forever.” This could be someone who really likes you, who could be want to be more with you but they kind of take you when you let them have you and they don’t ask for more because they don’t wanna look silly or they don’t want to look/feel ungrateful.

I see this person dissatisfied with anyone else they’ve been sleeping with or been talking to. They wanna indulge in you pile one. You could also be unhappy where you’re at as well you could’ve been receiving other messages and tarot readings talking about this person, you could’ve dreamt about this person recently or seen something they posted on social media and it got you thinking. I’m getting that there’s a lot of unfinished business with this person as well. The divine might have plans for the two of you or when you guys see eachother again they may have something they wanna say to you.

ii.

You and this person could share mutual attraction or mutual love for eachother. You or this person could be a fire sign. I’m getting a lot of fiery, passionate energy, I’m sitting here having hot flashes. This person could really enjoy kissing you or you really enjoy kissing this person. Lips are really significant this person may think you have really nice lips or even just have a really nice mouth. You can be really good at oral. I’m hearing this person thinks about getting head from you very often. They have flashbacks they start reminiscing. I’m getting this person may zone completely out in public thinking about you or the intimate moments you share and someone has to come in and snap them out of it.

Yes, this person really craves you I’m getting. Probably more than they can handle. This person may have a lot of stamina or may be hard to keep up with, you can keep up this person, you can match their energy and they really like that about you. I’m hearing you guys have very sloppy and passionate moments. I’m getting hot weather. Y’all could like to do it in public, broad day. Y’all like to get creative. You could know this person to be very easily aroused by you as well. Like they could just look at you and be ready to go because they’re just so in love with you. This person loves your face and your body. This person could be really attracted to your chest as well.

I’m hearing this person is ready to pop up on you, run to you at any moment of the day about the intimacy you have. I’m hearing any time, any place by Janet Jackson. I hear this person has really deep feelings for you pile two. They may try to keep themselves away from you because the relationship you share or the energy they hold on a regular basis can be really complicated or heavy and they don’t want to burden you with it. I see them trying to see other people or trying to fill the void you leave them with and nobody can do it like you do, like they don’t turn them on the same. Someone is saying you have a magic touch too. I almost typed magic trick. You can have a lot of tricks or be really skilled at the things you do. I’m hearing this person is so glad to have you like you make them feel like the man or a natural woman!!

Yes, you and this person may be in separation right now. Growing separately, releasing baggage and healing. This person could mean a lot to you or you mean something to this person. I see this person trying to keep themselves busy to try to keep their mind off of you. Sexually, emotionally. I see this person coming to you very respectfully the next time they see you though pile two. They don’t want you to get the wrong idea, they don’t want you to think they’re thinking of the wrong things or objectifying you because they see you as so much more than a body and the beauty you hold. This person holds something really sweet in matters of the heart for you pile two. It’s a win-win.

I see this person wanting to spoil you as well. This person could be really possessive over you as well. They don’t want anybody else to have you and their really serious about it.

iii.

I see this person having a lot of passion for you. Like I’m hearing it takes everything in them to hold back and not put it down on you or tell you how they feel, show you how they feel. I’m getting rocket by Beyoncé, let me sit this a** on you, show you how I feel. I see this person trying to be gentle and patient with you, trying not to impose anything on you or take you without you being sure and ready for that type of thing with this person. This person really values you, you could’ve known this person for a long time. They can think you very innocent or very fragile I’m getting and they don’t want to ruin that or take that away from you before you’re ready. You could be a virgin as well.

This person could tell their friends about how they feel about you, or really be in their heads about what they want to do to you or how much they wanna romance you. I’m hearing they feel like you know how they feel based on past interactions with them but because of some sort of situation between the two of you that’s caused a lot of stagnation and deep contemplation between the two of you , you don’t think anything of it or you don’t think they crave you the way they do. This person could secretly be very fit, this person could probably do a lot to you. lol idk why I’m getting “a lady in the streets, a freak in the sheets” idk this person may not reveal the way they get down in public or they keep it under wraps, or people may severely underestimate them but in reality they got that good good. If this person is a guy he’s got it going on if you know what I mean but not a lot of people know and people don’t think he does.

I’m hearing this person saying, “let me show you something.” They give the energy that they just wanna lead or they wanna take control and you follow their lead and go with the flow. Like they know what they’re doing. Aw, but I’m getting this person really wants to reconcile with you or apologize for something or make amends. Their really unhappy with the condition of you guys connection at the time. You guys could not be on talking terms or in separation. This could be a soulmate connection as well. I’m hearing “missionary cause his/her face is pretty.” Both of you could be generally very attractive people and well sought after. I’m getting there are people watching this person they have all these options but they’ve realized you’re who and what they want. This pile makes me wanna giggle. Like it’s so cute and sweet.

Find me elsewhere:

Instagram: @cookiefacetarot

TikTok: @cooki3face

Book a personal reading with me! My link is in my Instagram bio. Tysm for reading! Come and visit me sometime soon <333

#self love #self care #self improvement #self discovery #dream girl #self expression #healingjourney #self healing #manifestation #divine feminine #divine masculine #18+ readings #tarotcommunity #tarot readings #pick a pile #pick a card reading #tarot readers of instagram #tarot readers of tumblr #tarot readers of TikTok

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bellestarot · 9 months ago

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Pick a pile

What You need to hear right now ☁️

♡ Take your time to choose

⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢

Pile I

Pile number 1, you are an extremely hardworking, creative, and funny person with an aura that makes people want to get to know you better. You have a positive energy, but you are very constrained.

At this moment, you are learning to leave something behind, and you often feel indecisive about whether this is really what you need to do to achieve your goal and happiness.

I see that you are an indecisive person, feeling a weight on your shoulders about shaping your future. Everything is so uncertain that you don't know if you are making the right choices.

This blockage that holds you back needs to be released. You need to overcome this fear of challenging yourself and trying something new so that you can achieve your desires and happiness. Your dreams will only come to life and flourish if you allow it to happen.

Perhaps you have people you can count on, a friend or a relative. So take advantage of this support and trust in what you are feeling is your goal because I see that when you do, good things will come to you. Taking risks is also positive; stepping out of your comfort zone is beneficial. For some of you, this is related to a dream of yours.

For some of you, this might be related to a step in a relationship you want to take, or it might be related to a job position where you will need to give a speech or represent an institution. For some of you, it is related to dreams you have.

You have often set them aside, but now a light has rekindled regarding them for you not to give up.

Pile II

Pile 2, I see that after a long time, you decided to open your eyes to what was around you. And after that, everything started to make sense to you, and you succeeded.

You understood yourself better, perhaps liked yourself more than before, and appreciated the person you are.

It says here that nothing happens by chance. Sometimes we have to leave certain situations behind so that a new path can open up and you can receive all the good things from a place that was previously unknown to you.

You stayed stagnant in a particular situation for a long time, but the moment you realized that you are the only one responsible for your own happiness, everything changed, right?

Because you learned to express your desires more?

What you feel and what you want for your life?

Maybe someone created a romantic fantasy for you, promising incredible things, including loyalty, which was broken.

This person deceived you, lied to you, and maybe abandoned you.

But let me tell you something.

There are people who will value who you are and what you deserve. Do not accept something that you do not deserve.

You need some time to be alone and take care of yourself. I know you will get through this, and amazing things are waiting for you.

Pile III

It's not easy growing up, is it? Some of you are coming of age. Currently, others of you are learning from life how to be an adult.

You have an energy of youth that wants to discover the world, to know everything, and thinks it knows everything.

You need to learn to face your difficulties and not run away from them because that only hurts you and leaves you with all the possibilities of what could have happened in your mind. If you had confronted them, you wouldn't be wishing for so many things, right?

I see you having folders on Pinterest. Maybe writing in diaries about your future, what you want for yourself, and you are determined to achieve this, to have this independence to fly far from home, from where you are used to being. But as I said, it’s not easy having responsibilities. You might be going through some conflicts in your life that shake your mental state a bit.

The way to face this is by being less pessimistic. And valuing and trying to see the good things that happen to you amidst so much that hurts you.

Sometimes we don't value what’s happening to us because we can only see the bad things. But when you change your perspective, it completely changes your energy. We only attract good things when we are vibrating positively. That’s what you need to do.

୨୧┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈୨୧

#Spotify #tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #free tarot #what you need to hear right now #tarotcommunity #tarot blog #divination #pick a photo #soulmates tarot #love tarot free #love tarot reading

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aaronkraten · 1 year ago

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#Fantasy Zone II #Sega

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the-most-humble-blog · 10 days ago

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🧠💥 Ladies, You Have No Idea What Men Are Holding Back.

What Every Woman Should Know Before Throwing That Next Insult

ACT I — The Quiet Containment Zone You Mistake for Safety

There’s a terrible, unspoken truth in society:

Most women have absolutely no idea what men are capable of.

Not just “men with issues.” Not just “the violent ones.” Men. Period.

Even the average, passive, smiling dude next door is biologically capable of violence, strength, and emotional suppression that would terrify you if it ever stopped being filtered.

Not because he’s a monster. But because he’s built for it — and he’s been trained since birth to never show it.

ACT II — The Myth of Harmless Men Is a Lie of Comfort

Let’s be clear: The average healthy man — not a bodybuilder, not a psycho — can:

Break your wrist without trying.

Rip a door off the hinges in a blind rage.

Lift you off the ground and pin you before you can scream.

Shut you down mid-sentence with a look if he wanted to.

You think because he doesn’t, he can’t?

No.

It’s because he’s choosing not to.

That silence? That breath-holding when you say some slick feminist sh*t in his face? That’s not weakness. That’s containment.

ACT III — The Monster You Mock Is the Monster That Protects You

Every time a woman rants about “toxic masculinity,” you know who’s standing between her and actual danger?

Other men.

And news flash:

Some of those “men in uniform” you’re relying on? The ones with badges, guns, vests, and legal violence clearance? They're “incels” too.

They’re just the ones who passed the exam.

You think your sass is protected by some divine force of moral authority. In reality? You’re alive because the men you keep disrespecting have agreed — collectively — to stay calm.

For now.

ACT IV — Feminism Is Poking the Nuclear Core of the Male Psyche

Let’s talk incels for a second — because you bring them up a lot.

“Incels are dangerous.” “Incels are creepy.” “Incels are angry at women.”

You know what? You’re absolutely right.

But here’s the part no one wants to admit:

The only difference between an incel and a lot of regular men… is restraint.

Restraint isn’t innate. It’s taught. It’s fragile. It’s disrespected constantly.

And now you’ve built a culture that:

Mocks men who express pain

Calls men weak for needing connection

Labels them “dangerous” if they act too masculine

Labels them “worthless” if they don’t act masculine enough

You’ve built a mental pressure cooker and then laugh when the valve hisses.

What happens when men feel they have nothing to lose? What happens when they see no future, no respect, no intimacy?

They stop containing.

And you’re not ready for what that looks like.

ACT V — Biological Truth: Men Were Built to Kill, Conquer, and Withstand Horror

This is not a Marvel fantasy. This is evolutionary fact.

Men were:

Hunters

Soldiers

Builders

Destroyers

Their testosterone didn’t evolve to help them cry about tweets. It evolved to:

Run toward violence

Ignore pain

Rip flesh with their bare hands when cornered

You think that primal machinery just disappeared because he has a job at Google?

Nah.

It’s sleeping. It’s waiting. And it listens to the tone you use when you talk down to him.

ACT VI — The "Just Walk Away" Lie

You say:

“Real men walk away.” Yes. And they have.

And now you’re mad because they:

Don’t want to date you

Don’t want to protect you

Don’t want to engage

Don’t want to rescue

You called them weak, creepy, fragile, disposable — and now they believe you.

But here’s the problem:

The man who walks away… can also walk into the shadows and grow into something you’ll never be able to reach again.

Because once a man has no reason to behave?

He won’t.

ACT VII — The Psychological Trick (Let Me Flip the Script on You)

Imagine this:

There’s a world where women have superhuman strength. Can crush skulls. Can explode in unpredictable rage. Can kill a man with a coffee mug if pushed too far.

Now imagine every man in that world makes memes mocking those women, saying:

“You’ll die alone.” “You’re useless.” “You’re emotionally broken.” “No one wants you.”

How long until one of those women snaps?

Now flip it back.

That’s the world men are in. Right now. While you’re laughing at them online.

ACT VIII — The Embarrassing Little Checklist

Let’s check your feminism real quick:

Have you ever…

⬜ Mocked a man for being single? ⬜ Said “ew” when an average guy tried to flirt? ⬜ Laughed at a man’s height online? ⬜ Said “real men don’t cry” (ironically, of course)? ⬜ Used “incel” as an insult for any man who disagreed with you? ⬜ Called a man “creepy” just because you weren’t attracted to him? ⬜ Said “men are trash” and expected applause?

Then don’t talk to us about respect. Because you’re poking a bear you don’t actually want to wake up.

ACT IX — Why Men Say “STFU” Now

It’s not because they’re scared of you.

It’s because you don’t listen. You don’t want equality. You want control with none of the consequences.

But you’re not ready for what happens when even average men stop pretending.

You think power is a system?

Nah.

Power is what happens when a man stops giving a f*ck and remembers what he’s physically capable of.

And your favorite TikTok audio won’t save you when the polite mask drops.

🩸 FINAL VERDICT: RESPECT THE RESTRAINT.

Because once that’s gone? You’ll remember what a world without contained men actually feels like.

It won’t look like “toxic masculinity.” It’ll look like total collapse — roaming packs of unsupervised testosterone with nothing left to protect, love, or lose.

So maybe — and this is just spitballing here — maybe you should just STFU.

Y’know. For safety.

🔁 Reblog if you’ve seen the containment system fray and said nothing. 💬 Comment if you’re tired of watching men get mocked for holding back the apocalypse. 🔒 Follow if you know respect isn’t earned — it’s chosen.

⚖️ LEGAL DISCLAIMER: This post is written for the purpose of artistic expression, cultural commentary, and psychological exploration of social and gender dynamics. It does not condone or encourage violence, harassment, or discrimination of any kind. Any references to power, strength, restraint, or critique are metaphorical, symbolic, and rooted in historical and cultural analysis. This is not a call to action — it’s a cultural mirror. If you feel offended, ask yourself if it’s from actual harm — or from seeing something you hoped no one would say out loud.

✨ TL;DR: If you're mad, it’s probably not because it’s wrong — it’s because you know it’s true.

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insanityclause · 2 months ago

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The second installment of Jamie Lloyd’s stint at Theatre Royal Drury Lane is officially open. From tragedy to comedy - this time Lloyd takes on Shakespeare’s greatly adored Much Ado About Nothing and it’s a million miles away from anything we’ve seen from the company in the past year. I was eager, yet hesitant, to see how Jamie Lloyd Co would take on this play, having very much settled into the Jacobean tragedies, or musicals with sombre tales - would Lloyd’s now penned signature style be reused once again?

Walking into the auditorium was a wildly different experience to last year’s The Tempest, this time the stark bare stage was lit by neon pink strobe lighting and paired with Ibiza classic tunes pumping through the theatre. The tone for the night was immediately set, and intrigue built.

Now, I must admit I have not been the greatest fan of Lloyd’s Shakespeare productions of last year, although conceptually I hugely adore and admire his pushing of out-of-the-box ideas, I felt they were a little off the mark, feeling a little too constrained that Shakespeare’s rhythm was lost. However, I was blown away by this production - it was everything and more I could’ve hoped for - THAT is how you modernise and reimagine Shakespeare for the 21st century.

The story, following two couples - one immediately head over heels for one another, the other - your classic enemies to lovers, is a wonderful tale and one which you can understand why it still feels so relevant hundreds of years later. We are first introduced to Hero (Mara Huf) and Claudio (James Phoon) who play the young lovers with great passion and humour, playing into the gushiness of their text. Phoon’s anguish ridden monologue in Act II is particularly impressive, full of energy and understanding.

Our second couple, Beatrcie, played by the stunning Hayley Atwell, and Benedick - played by Tom Hiddleston - are a match made in heaven on stage together. Their study of their characters makes them feel so relatable and personable, despite the grandeur of the theatre, you feel so zoned in on their story. Atwell’s Beatrice is a wonderful modern take of the character, delving into the societal injustice of her script, and mocking the constraints placed on her as a female - it’s a joyous mockery instead of the classic “damned woman” narrative.

Hiddleston’s stage presence is sublime - he effortlessly leads the production with an air of coolness, and he feels like a natural born Shakespearean actor. His ability to play the fool makes the production such a joy to watch. Both Atwell and Hiddleston repeatedly break the fourth wall, which makes the production feel even more like the audience are encouraged to fully immerse in the fun of the night.

Originally set in 17th century Messina, Lloyd has transported the play into an ambiguous modern fantasy of electric pink madness. The cast, draped in Studio 54-esque costumes, continuously break out into dance breaks to Ibiza classics which act as scene changes that are incredibly slick and ensure the energy never drops.

The incredibly talented Mason Alexander Park returns to the stage after their role in The Tempest, as Hero’s attendant Margaret. After their success in their previous show, it was wonderful to see them returning with more musical additions to the show, this time performing dance floor hits such as the finale’s ‘When love takes over’ which I'm sure will have been seen already across social media.

Lloyd’s camp, flamboyant and electric take on the play seems like it shouldn’t work but it is just so magically mesmerising I found myself wanting more at the end. Act I plays entirely into this high energy mood, and is wonderfully contrasted by a more austere Act II - allowing the meddling scheme of Don John - and its effect on the characters to really be focused on.

As always with a Jamie Lloyd Co production, the staging is intentionally bare, with only chairs and a singular table used in way of props. However, the floor is covered in a sea of hot pink confetti, which continues to drop throughout the show, and a giant inflatable pink heart lowers halfway through Act I. Hiddleston hilariously uses the confetti to disguise himself whilst Don Pedro and his men speak loudly of Beatrice’s “love” for Benedick, it’s a fantastically farcical scene which had the audience in bouts of laughter.

Credit must also be given to the recent addition of lottery tickets for this show, and also the £25 tickets for key workers and younger theatregoers. Lloyd's productions has earnt (at times) ridiculous costs for seats, making them feel inaccessible to many, so it's really great to see many efforts being made to try make theatre as accessible as possible.

It was so refreshing to see a production of Shakespeare done with such success. Having seen so many openings in the past year alone - it’s started to feel slightly repetitive of “another celebrity cast Shakespeare”, and many have found that a big name doesn’t equal a box office hit. However, this production truly made me eat my words for many reasons. It is brimming with talent, as joyful as theatre can get and a true testimony of why Jamie Lloyd continues to be one of the greatest names in theatre of this century.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

#much ado about nothing #review #5⭐️

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her-satanic-wiles · 6 months ago

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Kinktober Day 16 - Exhibitionism

Papa Emeritus I x Reader

You are a sex worker at the Ministry, performing sensually behind double-sided glass, indulging in fantasies of being desired by Primo. As Primo watches you with intense longing, he succumbs to his own pleasure, yet his desire for you only deepens, fueling a craving to possess you completely.

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 4.4k.

Reading Time: 18 min.

Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, gang bang fantasies, masturbation, mentions of gang bangs, nipple play, objectification, self-objectification, vaginal fingering, voyeurism

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @hauntedharmonic-ghoulishhaunter @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sister-of-sin-claudia @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

Author’s note: Hi, everyone!

Today’s fic draws inspiration from the Edo-period (1603–1868) red-light district of Yoshiwara, where peep shows were a popular form of entertainment. Although the exact names of these peep show structures are not well-documented, they provided secluded, intimate viewing spaces. Visitors would discreetly observe courtesans or sexual performances, reflecting the controlled nature of these environments.

These voyeuristic setups were part of the broader ukiyo (“floating world”) culture—a space dedicated to escaping societal norms through pleasure, indulgence, and art. Activities ranged from public erotic performances to private encounters facilitated by intermediaries, such as in tea houses or pleasure chambers. Yoshiwara wasn’t just about sexual activities; it also fostered artistic expressions like ukiyo-e prints and literature, capturing themes of fleeting pleasure and desire.

In modern Japan, venues like Nozoki Beya (peep rooms) mirror some aspects of these historical practices. Nozoki Beya allows customers to watch performers engage in erotic acts, either live or behind glass partitions. These booths offer a voyeuristic experience similar to the setups of Yoshiwara, with a strict separation between viewer and performer.

The popularity of establishments like Nozoki Beya grew in part from legal loopholes created by Japan’s 1956 Anti-Prostitution Law. After World War II, Japan saw a rise in unregulated prostitution and forced sexual slavery. To combat this, the law banned prostitution (defined as vaginal intercourse for money). However, other sexual services—such as non-penetrative acts—remained legal, leading to the growth of businesses like Nozoki Beya.

These venues operate within legal boundaries by prohibiting direct physical contact between customers and performers. They require local government licenses and are subject to zoning laws, which restrict their operation to areas like Kabukicho in Tokyo. Adult entertainment businesses cannot operate near schools, parks, or residential areas, but the ambiguous nature of Japan’s laws creates some gray areas. Venues often navigate the fine line between legality and illegality, especially when performers’ actions approach the limits of prostitution.

While this fic takes inspiration from both Nozoki Beya and the historical practices of Yoshiwara, it is not a direct depiction of these activities. All characters featured are adults above the age of 21, and everything in the story is entirely consensual.

Enjoy the story!

🔞 MDNI 🔞

The red glow of the octagonal room enveloped you, the soft light casting playful shadows that danced across the mirrored glass. You settled onto the padded lounger at the centre, the silk of your robe clinging just enough to tease the senses. This was your space, a sanctuary of seduction where you could lose yourself to the performance, even if the audience remained unseen.

You adjusted your position, allowing the fabric to slip from your shoulder, exposing a hint of skin. You caught your reflection in the glass—a captivating sight that both excited and empowered you. You loved the way it felt to perform, the thrill of revealing just enough while holding back the rest.

But tonight, beneath the intoxicating haze of incense, there was a yearning that stirred deep within you—a desire for a particular gaze. You wished Primo would come to watch. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, the ache of wanting to be seen by him amplifying the heat radiating in the room. You imagined his dark eyes on you, exploring every curve and movement, but the truth was, you had no idea if he would show.

With each languid stretch of your limbs, you painted a picture for the invisible audience. You smoothed your hands over your thighs, the subtle caress igniting a fire in your belly. In the back of your mind, you whispered a silent plea for him to appear, to share in this intimate moment, even if he remained hidden behind the glass.

You leaned back against the cushions, your lips parting ever so slightly as you exhaled, an invitation carried through the air—a sound meant for him, even if he was still just a thought. In this world of shadows and reflections, you held onto hope that he would find his way into your light.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the rhythm of your breath guide you. The anticipation thrummed in the air, urging you to embrace the performance. With a soft smile playing on your lips, you let the tension ease from your body, focusing on the sensations that rippled through you.

Opening your eyes, you began to move, each motion fluid and deliberate. You arched your back slightly, allowing the fabric of your robe to slip further down your shoulder, revealing more of your collarbone. The mirrors caught every angle, reflecting a beautiful illusion of yourself—a vision you hoped would entice anyone watching.

You leaned forward, your fingers grazing your thighs, slowly tracing circles on your skin as if inviting the audience to feel the heat emanating from your body. The room felt electric, each subtle movement weaving a spell of seduction that filled the air. You thought of Primo, picturing him in your mind as you performed, his presence a silent motivation that pushed you deeper into the moment.

You turned your body slightly, allowing the curves of your hips to catch the light, shifting to give the reflections a tantalising view. You imagined Primo’s gaze, how he would study every detail, and the thought quickened your pulse. Would he appreciate the way you teased the fabric, pulling it closer to your body, then letting it slip away again?

As the performance intensified, you let your hands roam, exploring your own body as though it were a work of art. The sensuality of it filled you with a confidence that radiated through the glass, mingling with the faint scent of incense in the air. You could almost feel the heat of his gaze upon you, igniting a deeper yearning that urged you to give more.

You shifted again, propping yourself up on one elbow, your body poised in a way that accentuated the curve of your waist. You locked your eyes onto your own reflection, the desire within you manifesting in a wicked smile as you teased the edge of your robe, letting it slip just enough to suggest what lay beneath.

With your heart racing, you let the energy of the moment sweep you away. The way the fabric caressed your skin sent shivers down your spine, urging you to explore further. You took a deep breath, focusing on the sensation of your body and the power it held in this intimate space.

You shifted again, letting your legs fall open slightly as you reclined back onto the lounger, propping yourself up on one elbow. The angle provided a tantalising view, showcasing the curve of your hips and the softness of your thighs. You could almost hear the whispers of admiration from an invisible audience, and you imagined Primo’s eyes drinking in every detail, a mixture of longing and desire.

You began to play with your hair, letting the silken strands cascade down your back and across your shoulders. With each movement, you wove your fingers through your locks, drawing attention to the graceful lines of your neck and collarbone. You could picture him captivated, lost in the way you transformed even the simplest actions into something alluring.

Feeling bolder, you lifted your hand to your chest, tracing a path down the fabric of your robe, teasingly pulling it aside just enough to reveal a hint of skin beneath. The warmth of your own touch sent a rush of heat through you, and you relished in the delicious tension that filled the air. You could almost feel the weight of his gaze pressing against you, urging you to go further.

Primo stepped into the booth, his heart racing with a mix of anticipation and excitement. The moment he entered the dimly lit space, he was enveloped by the warm glow of the red lights that pulsed softly around the octagonal room. His breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight before him.

There you were, a vision of seduction reclining on the lounger, the silk of your robe glistening under the soft light. The way you moved was hypnotic; your hands glided over your skin with an elegance that left him entranced. Each deliberate stroke drew his gaze, the rhythm of your touch igniting a fire within him.

He watched as you leaned back, arching your back just enough to accentuate the curve of your waist. The robe slipped slightly from your shoulder, revealing the delicate expanse of your collarbone. He felt a surge of desire at the sight, his heart pounding as you showcased your body, unhurried and deliberate.

Primo shifted in his seat, the anticipation thick in the air. He didn’t want to miss a moment; your every movement was a tantalising tease that left him yearning for more. He could hardly believe his luck in being here, hidden behind the glass, able to witness this private performance. The thought of you, completely unaware of his presence, only deepened his desire.

As you ran your hands over your thighs, he could feel his pulse quicken. The way you traced your skin, as if awakening every inch of your body, sent a shiver down his spine. He leaned forward, entranced, hungry for the sight of you unraveling before him. The intimate atmosphere heightened every sensation, each flutter of your fingers igniting something primal within him.

“Sathanas, you’re stunning,” he murmured under his breath, even though he knew you couldn’t hear him. He wanted to reach out, to touch you, to draw you closer, but the barrier of glass kept him safely on this side of desire. It was both exhilarating and torturous, and he found himself lost in the depths of your performance.

You lifted your hand to your chest, teasing the fabric of your robe, revealing just enough to stir his imagination. His breath hitched as you let the robe slip further, showcasing your curves, your skin glowing in the red light. Every moment felt electric, the connection between you palpable despite the separation.

Primo’s breath caught as you pulled your robe down, revealing the soft swell of your breasts. The sight sent a jolt of desire through him, tightening his grip on the edge of the booth as he leaned forward, completely captivated. The delicate curve of your body, coupled with the seductive way you played with your nipples, was intoxicating.

You teased the sensitive peaks, rolling them gently between your fingers as you gazed at your own reflection, lost in the moment. Each flicker of your movements seemed to pulse with life, and he could hardly contain himself, the urge to reach out and touch you almost overwhelming. The glass barrier between you was both a comfort and a torment, separating him from the intoxicating beauty before him.

He adjusted his position, feeling the fabric of his papal robes shift against his skin, the weight of them rubbing against his hardness. The thrill of being here, watching you—bare, uninhibited, and so incredibly alluring—left him with an insatiable hunger that only you could satisfy.

The way you surrendered to your own pleasure stirred something primal within him. He imagined the soft sounds of your breaths, the way your body moved with an almost liquid grace. The tension between you and him felt electric, charged with the unspoken connection that bound you in this moment. He wanted nothing more than to see how far you would take this performance, to witness every nuance of your desire.

“Damn it,” he whispered, unable to tear his gaze away. You were exquisite, a living embodiment of sensuality. The thought of you writhing beneath his touch sent a rush of heat through him, and he clenched his fists, fighting against the urge to reach out and break the barrier that separated you.

You sneaked your hands lower, fingers gliding down the curve of your waist and past your thighs. The air in the booth felt charged, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away as you spread your legs, revealing everything to him. The intimacy of the moment was electrifying, leaving him breathless and entranced.

The soft glow of the room highlighted your most intimate parts, and the sight left him utterly captivated. His heart raced in his chest, the primal urge to reach out and touch you coursing through him with every passing second. You were so beautifully exposed, unashamed in your sensuality, and it took everything in him to remain still behind the glass.

He watched as you let your fingers explore, your touch delicate yet purposeful. The way you arched your back, the soft moans that slipped from your lips, ignited a fire deep within him. His pulse quickened with each small movement, every sigh echoing in his ears like a siren’s call, drawing him deeper into your world.

As you continued to caress yourself, he could see the way your body responded to your touch—the slight quiver of your thighs, the way your breath hitched as you sought pleasure. His fingers itched to feel your skin, to explore the soft curves that were so tantalisingly close yet impossibly out of reach.

Every instinct urged him to close the distance, to step through the barrier and claim this moment for himself. The tantalising notion of being the one to elicit those moans, to draw forth your pleasure, filled his mind. It was maddening, the way you performed with such confidence, utterly unaware of how completely you had ensnared him in your web of desire.

With a quick glance around the booth to ensure his privacy, he reached beneath the soft folds of his papal robes. His fingers brushed against his arousal, a low groan escaping his lips as he began to pleasure himself. The sensation of his hand moving over his skin was electrifying, an echo of the pleasure you were experiencing, and the thought of you heightened every stroke.

His eyes never left you as he matched his rhythm to the movements of your hands, each caress of your body a tantalising tease that drew him deeper into desire. You were a vision of pure ecstasy, and he could hardly contain himself as he watched the way you surrendered to the pleasure, each sigh and moan igniting a fire within him.

As he pumped his hand in time with your movements, he imagined what it would feel like to touch you, to feel the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips. The fantasy of being with you, of tasting the sweetness of your body, pushed him closer to the edge. He bit his lip, stifling the sounds of his pleasure as he focused solely on you.

You were an exquisite performer, every inch of your body a work of art that left him breathless. He could see how you arched your back, the way your eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss. It drove him wild, the thought that you were lost in your own world while he was completely entranced by the scene before him.

“Please,” he murmured, the word slipping past his lips unbidden, a silent prayer to the universe for a chance to be closer to you, to feel your body entwined with his. The moment felt electric, every touch of his hand against himself echoing the rhythm of your exploration.

Primo’s breath came in ragged gasps, the world around him fading away until there was only you, your body, and the sweet tension that hung in the air. He was lost in the spectacle, a willing captive to the allure you created, his pleasure entwining with yours in a beautiful, forbidden dance.

As you reclined on the lounger, every movement felt amplified, each stroke of your hands igniting a flame of desire within you. The soft glow of the red lights illuminated your skin, highlighting every curve and contour, and you revelled in the feeling of being on display. There was something intoxicating about knowing that people were watching you, their eyes glued to your every movement behind the glass.

With each slow caress of your body, you felt a surge of confidence. The sensation of your fingers gliding over your skin was heightened by the knowledge that you were captivating someone—drawing them into your world of pleasure. You leaned into it, letting your hands explore, each stroke deliberate and sensual. The heat pooling in your belly grew as you imagined the desire radiating from the booth, the silent, hungry gazes locked onto you, drinking in the sight of your performance.

Being on display like this was thrilling, a rush of power that electrified your senses. You relished the idea that your body was an object of desire, a canvas upon which fantasies were painted. There was a heady mix of vulnerability and empowerment in sharing such an intimate part of yourself, and you leaned into that feeling, letting it wash over you.

The glass separated you from the outside world, creating a cocoon of intimacy that made the experience all the more exhilarating. You caught glimpses of shadows moving behind the transparent barrier, a silent acknowledgment of the connection being forged in that space. Each sigh that escaped your lips felt like a call to them, an invitation to join you in this moment of pure indulgence.

As you spread your legs wider, the thrill of being so exposed sent a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You played with your nipples, your body responding eagerly to your touch, and you savoured the sensations that coursed through you. The slight pressure, the way your skin tingled, all combined to create a symphony of pleasure that resonated within.

You felt like a goddess, commanding attention and desire, the thrill of the performance fuelling your every move. You enjoyed putting on this show, the way it pushed you to explore the boundaries of your own pleasure. You knew that your every gesture, every gasp, was met with rapt attention and longing, and it filled you with an exhilarating sense of purpose.

As you dipped your fingers inside yourself, a wave of pleasure coursed through you, intensifying the connection between your body and the exhilaration of being on display. You closed your eyes for a moment, surrendering to the sensations, but your thoughts drifted to him—Primo—and the way he would be watching you with such intensity.

But then your mind wandered further, teasing the edges of fantasy. What would it be like to be ravaged by all three papas? The thought sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. You imagined Secondo’s bold, dominating presence, the way he would claim you with a fierce passion, igniting a fire within you. His touch would be rough yet tantalising, pushing you to the edge of pleasure and beyond.

And then there was Terzo, with his playful charm and mischievous grin. You could almost feel his hands on your body, exploring and teasing in ways that made your breath hitch. He’d pull you into a world of sweet torment, drawing out your pleasure until you were begging for release.

But it was Primo who held your attention now, the way his gaze penetrated you even from behind the glass, a silent promise of what could be. You pictured him joining in, commanding the room with his presence, taking control of the scene as he directed the two others to pleasure you together. The thought of being surrounded by them, each one focused solely on your pleasure, sent a wave of desire washing over you.

You thrust your fingers deeper, letting the pleasure build as you imagined the three of them, each taking their turn to ravish you, to claim you in their own unique ways. The heat coiled tightly in your belly, and you could almost hear their voices urging you on, calling you to lose yourself in the moment.

The fantasy felt so real, your body responding to the idea of being the centre of their attention, of being worshipped and desired by all three. You envisioned the scene vividly—bodies entwined, hands exploring, the air thick with the scent of desire and the sounds of pleasure. The thought of being at their mercy, of being claimed by each one in turn, made your heart race.

As you continued to pleasure yourself, you moaned softly, your breath hitching as the fantasy enveloped you. You were lost in the throes of ecstasy, the image of the three papas circling your mind, igniting a fire that left you gasping for more. It was a delicious thought, and you reveled in it, letting it guide you deeper into pleasure, unashamed and utterly consumed by the fantasy.

You thrust your fingers deeper inside yourself, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure radiating throughout your body. With each movement, your mind remained locked on Primo—the way he watched you, those intense eyes filled with desire. The thrill of being on display for him alone heightened every sensation, every gasp that escaped your lips.

You imagined him leaning closer, captivated by the sight of you giving in to your own pleasure. The very thought of him watching you, taking in every intimate moment, stoked the flames of your desire even higher. You could almost feel the heat of his gaze enveloping you, making you feel alive and exposed in the best possible way.

As you continued to tease and caress your body, you relished the idea of him being the sole witness to your pleasure, the one person who understood the intricacies of desire. You could picture him leaning against the glass, his breath hitching as he watched you pleasure yourself, each gasp and moan pulling him deeper into the web of your exhibitionism. You reveled in the idea of being the star of his fantasy, a beautiful spectacle designed solely for his enjoyment.

The way he must have reacted—his breath quickening, desire coursing through him like wildfire—made you want to push even further. You arched your back and spread your legs wider, giving him an even better view, and you felt a thrill race through you. You were not just performing; you were offering yourself to him, inviting him into this moment, even if only in his imagination.

With each thrust of your fingers, you thought of how he would react, the pleasure reflected in his eyes as he watched you give in to the waves of ecstasy. The connection between you two felt palpable, as if the glass that separated you was nothing but an illusion. You imagined him whispering sweet nothings, encouragement urging you to let go, to revel in your own pleasure and the thrill of being seen.

You could feel your climax building, a wave of heat pooling low in your belly, and you surrendered to the fantasy of him—his presence dominating your thoughts. The intimacy of the moment was intoxicating, and you savored the connection that seemed to transcend the barrier between performer and observer.

As you neared your release, the thought of his eyes on you, filled with longing and desire, pushed you over the edge. With a final thrust of your fingers, you cried out, the sound echoing in the intimate space as pleasure coursed through you. In that moment, it felt as if it were only the two of you in the world, lost in the shared experience of desire, connection, and the exquisite thrill of being on display for him alone.

Primo leaned back in his booth, the glass between him and you amplifying the thrill of the moment. Watching you was intoxicating, a sensory overload that consumed him entirely. The way your fingers glided over your skin, the gentle arch of your back, and the soft sighs escaping your lips stirred something primal within him. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement as he realised how much he craved this—craved you.

His heart raced as he observed every intimate detail of your performance. The way you surrendered to your own pleasure, completely unguarded and exposed, ignited a fire deep inside him. He imagined what it would be like to join you, to feel your body beneath his hands, to taste the sweetness of your skin. The fantasy enveloped him, pulling him deeper into the realm of desire.

He watched as you dipped your fingers inside yourself, the sight sending a rush of heat through his veins. It was a sight he could have only dreamed of, and the knowledge that you were performing just for him heightened every sensation. Each thrust of your fingers seemed to draw him in closer, making him feel as if he were part of the scene, even from behind the glass. He could hardly breathe, caught between the beauty of the moment and the longing that surged through him.

Primo’s hand moved instinctively, mirroring your movements as he began to pleasure himself. He matched the rhythm of your fingers, the connection between you two electric. Every moan that escaped your lips was like a sweet invitation, urging him to give in to the raw, primal urge coursing through him. He imagined the warmth of your body, the taste of your skin, the sound of your breath—everything combined to create a world where only the two of you existed.

He could feel the tension building within him, an overwhelming urge to break through the barrier and claim you. The thought of being the one to worship your body, to push you to new heights of pleasure, sent shivers of delight down his spine. You were a vision of pure ecstasy, and the sheer thought of you belonging to him, even for just a moment, was enough to drive him wild.

As you reached the peak of your pleasure, the sound of your cries echoed in the small space, wrapping around him like a lover’s embrace. Primo’s own release was imminent, and he let himself be lost in the moment, caught in the exquisite blend of desire and satisfaction. The image of you, utterly consumed by your own ecstasy, pushed him over the edge. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the wave of pleasure that washed over him, feeling every pulse and throb as he gave in completely.

As the wave of pleasure crashed over him, Primo surrendered completely to the moment, his body tensing with the intensity of his orgasm. He watched as his release spilled forth, hitting the floor in rhythmic splatters that echoed softly in the intimate space. The sight was primal, raw, and it only heightened the exhilaration coursing through him. Each pulse sent shivers down his spine, a testament to the fierce desire that had been building within him since he first laid eyes on you.

But even as he rode the waves of his climax, his thoughts remained fixed on you. The scene was etched into his mind, the image of your body writhing in pleasure, fingers buried deep within yourself, and that glorious expression of ecstasy on your face. It was intoxicating, and as his heart raced and his breathing began to steady, he felt an even fiercer craving ignite within him.

Despite the release, his desire for you burned hotter than ever. He longed to touch you, to feel your skin against his, to taste every inch of you that had been laid bare before him. The throes of his orgasm only served to amplify the need that coursed through him—a desperate ache to possess you completely.

Primo could still see you, the way you were lost in your pleasure, utterly uninhibited and inviting. The thought of all the ways he could worship your body, of how he could take you higher, sent a fresh rush of need through him. He wanted to be the one to make you moan, to feel you quiver beneath him, to guide you to the brink of ecstasy time and again.

He leaned closer to the glass, a silent vow forming in his mind. This was only the beginning. The tantalising connection he felt—though brief—had awakened something within him that couldn’t be easily quelled. Each pattern his release left on the floor was a reminder of the intensity of the moment, and it made him crave you even more.

Even as he began to come down from the high of his orgasm, he knew one thing for certain: he wanted you. The fierce desire that coursed through his veins felt almost unbearable, a need that demanded to be fulfilled. The thought of you lingering in his mind, a haunting echo of what he had just witnessed, was enough to stoke the flames of his passion anew.

He wanted to know the taste of your skin, the feel of your body beneath his, and he could only hope that this performance was just a prelude to something far more intimate. For now, he was content to watch, but deep down, he knew that he would do anything to make you his—now and forever.

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