#Le☆S☆Ca

[officialromaniantranslatiuni]

Ca doar ce vorbeam cu cineva drag mie si am simtit nevoia sa zic asta si aici.

Faptul ca iti plac copiii, lucrezi cu copiii, ai studiat o gramada de chestii despre copiii si (in general) le ai cu copiii, nu inseamna ca ca scrie pe fruntea ta fraier si acum vine orice duduie din neam sau apropiati cu plozii luati din cusca maimutelor de la zoo si gata. Tu esti prostul care trebuie sa ii tolereze pe ei si istericalele lor. Nope. Daca nu le dau lor un dos de palma pentru ca arunca cu ciorba prin casa, pot sa iti dau tie ca adult. Macar sa fim pe plan egal.

[just-a-mod]

i have strong feelings for papa Ratau im gonna hunt that murderous fox down and beat him to death (|)W(|)

[ordalya]

J'ai trouvé pourquoi les images générée par IA me dérangent : c'est comme si ce que je vois en rêve (flou et précis à la fois) se serait retrouvé dans la vie réelle. Ce n'est pas une sensation agréable. Du tout, du tout.

[retoxx]

my last 3 days have been like. cafè au lait. brioche avec la confiture. les coquilles st-jacques. l'huître avec mignonette. les crevettes avec piment d'espelette et cognac. une salade. bûche de noël. une autre salade mais pour le petit-déjeuner. plus, plus de fruits de mer. galette de rois. endless 15-20 yr old wines. and chasing after lil nieces and telling them to listen to their tata et tonton.

[daltoncity]

Ils manquaient de femmes, au Far West...

C'est moi ou le cow-boy à l'air particulièrement enthousiaste?

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Audio: Deap Vally Shares a Ripper and Final Tour Dates

New Audio: Deap Vally Shares a Ripper and Final Tour Dates @DeapVally @clarioncallpr @imtherealcb

Acclaimed Los Angeles-based rock duo Deap Vally — Julie Edwards (drums, vocals) and Lindsey Troy (guitar, vocals) — can trace their origins to the duo’s chance meeting in a knitting class over a decade ago. The Los Angeles-based duo’s debut single, 2012’s “Gonna Make My Own Money,” was released through tiny British indie label Ark Recordings. Since then, Edwards and Troy went on to release three…

[cimicherrychanga]

yall need to learn romanian so you can understand my lux memes.

yall need to learn romanian just so you can understand how funny i really am

[vinceaddams]

Early 18th (and late 17th) century fashions are so under-utilized in vampire media and I think it's a damn shame.

I don't actually think I've ever seen a single image of a vampire character in an early 18th century suit. Hardly any movies set in that era either, and hardly any historical costumers who do it. (Even my beloved gay pirate show set in 1717 takes nearly all of its 18th century looks from the second half of the century. Not enough appreciation for baroque fashion!!)

Yes I love late 18th century fashion as much as anyone, and 19th century formal suits are all very well and good, but if you want something that says old, dead, wealthy, and slightly dishevelled, then the 1690's-1730's are where it's at.

(Retrato del Virrey Alencastre Noroña y Silva, Duque de Linares, ca. 1711-1723.)

There was so much dark velvet, and so many little metallic buttons & buttonholes. Blood red linings were VERY fashionable in this era, no matter what the colour of the rest of the suit was.

(Johann Christoph Freiherr von Bartenstein by Martin van Meytens the Younger, 1730's.)

The slits on the front of the shirts are super low, they button only at the collar, and it's fashionable to leave most of the waistcoat unbuttoned so the shirt sticks out, as seen in the above portraits.

(Portrait of Anne Louis Goislard de Montsabert, Comte de Richbourg-le-Toureil, 1734.)

Waistcoats are very long, coats are very full, and the cuffs are huge. But the sleeves are on the shorter side to show off more of that shirt, and the ruffles if it has them! Creepy undead hands with long nails would sit so nicely under those ruffles.

(1720's-30's, LACMA)

Embroidery designs are huge and chunky and often full of metallic threads, and the brocade designs even bigger.

(1730's, V&A, metal and silk embroidery on silk satin.)

Sometimes they did this fun thing where the coat would have contrasting cuffs made from the same fabric as the waistcoat.

(Niklaus Sigmund Steiger by Johann Rudolf Huber, 1724.)

Tell me this look isn't positively made for vampires!

(Portrait of Jean-Baptiste de Roll-Montpellier, 1713.)

(Yeah I am cherry-picking mostly red and black examples for this post, and there are plenty of non-vampire-y looking images from this time, but you get the idea!)

And the wrappers (at-home robes) were also cut very large, and, if you could afford it, made with incredible brocades.

(Portrait of a nobleman by Giovanni Maria delle Piane, no date given but I'd guess maybe 1680's or 90's.)

(Circle of Giovanni Maria delle Piane, no date given but I'd guess very late 17th or very early 18th century.)

Now that looks like a child who's been stuck at the same age for a hundred years if I ever saw one!

I don't know as much about the women's fashion from this era, but they had many equally large and elabourate things.

(1730's, Museo del Traje.)

(Don't believe The Met's shitty dating, this is a robe volante from probably the 1720's.)

(Mantua, c. 1708, The Met. No idea why they had to be that specific when they get other things wrong by entire decades but ok.)

(Portrait of Duchess Colavit Piccolomini, 1690's.)

(Maria van Buttinga-van Berghuys by Hermannus Collenius, 1717.)

Sometimes they also had these cute little devil horn hair curls that came down on either side of the forehead.

(Viago in drag Portrait of a lady, Italian School, c. 1690.)

Enough suave Victorian vampires, I want to see Baroque ones! With huge wigs and brocade coat cuffs so big they go past the elbow!

[gacougnol]

Thérèse Le Prat

The Dancer Nina Vyroubova, ca 1950's

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

Hi I was wondering if you’d be okay with writing yandere Alucard (hellsing) with a human s/o. Maybe they try to escape?

You are mine~

Request: Yes

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, blood, vampirism, typical hellsing stuff, unwilling relationship, yandere

Characters: Alucard

Franchise: Hellsing

A/N: Woo, sorry that took so incredibly long, hope this is a long the lines of what you were hoping for! Let me know if you would like a continuation or perhaps a mini series.

A dull thud beats in your head as your consciousness swims through your foggy mind, what had happened? The last thing you can remember is walking home from the store and hearing someone behind you…oh god. As you attempt to sit up you feel like you’re swimming through a thick pudding, every move makes that throbbing pain in your head a little sharper. Where are you? Heavy with a drug induced fatigue, your eye lids lazily open and close a few times as you fight to see where you are, whatever you had been dosed with it certainly worked as intended. After a few minutes, you manage to open your eyes and propr yourself up against some pillows behind you so you can look around. Deep red is the first thing you register, the silken texture had made the fight to sit up that much harder for you, and now that you can see what it is apart of clearly the panic worms its way in. A small voice in the back of your muddled mind that something isn’t quite right. A thick duvet had been over you before you moved and now it rests heavy on your lower half. Underneath you, dark red silken sheets cradle you in a luxurious hold that threatens to lull you back to sleep, but you can’t go to sleep again, you need to figure out where you are. Slowly, you move your legs, sliding them across the sheets towards the floor. The moment your feet hit the cold stone floor you recoil and hiss, the coolness waking you up a bit further. Now the room seems less bleary and you can see the grey stone walls stacked up like the bricks of a house, and the equally stone floor that is cold to the touch. As your eyes adjust to the dim candle light, you spot a staircase leading up, up, up, into the darkness where you can just barely hear faint sounds echoing down. Fueld by the need to escape, to get away from this dark place, you steel yourself and step back down onto the floor beneath you. Fighting through the shivers that wrack your body as the chill touches your bones. After somewhat getting used to the chill in the air all down in this, what you assume to be, cellar, you walk towards the steps and one by one climb up the staircase only to find a locked heavy oak door.

You don’t give up, heading back down the stairs to look from some other way out. A lone window above the bed of your new eclosure catched your desperate eye and you quickly move over to it climbing on the bed. Your hands press against the window and it just barely has any give except for in one corner where the pane of glass seems to be looser. Looking out of it it seems to ground level if a little above it and you would be able to get out of it. You push, all of your weight leing on that one slightly less stable corner until the glass budges and a small piece of stone falls from under it. You quickly pick up this new tool and make use of it hitting the glass until that corner breaks apart from it. You curl your fingers around the open piece and take a deep inhale as you breathe in the crisp night air. It burns a little, the coolness of it, but you couldn’t be more grateful for such a feeling. pUshing and pulling against the window you finally make the glass come out in a few pieces. The rock serves as a tool for removing the sharper edges that were too stubborn to move by your hands alone, and finally you begin to shimmy through the window and onto the dew covered grass outside.

When you stand, you stretch and sigh, the feeling of the grass between your toes and up your ankles tickling your bare skin. The gentle midsummer night breeze that catches you and ruffles your hair, you hm’t even been in their for very long but this feeling felt as if you’d never felt it before. You don’t linger on this though, as the anxiety sets in and you pick a direction to start running in. North, this is the way your feet choose to take you as you run from what you ca now see to be a manor or estate of some kind. Dwelling on it isn’t within your line of thought as you run into some wood, the full moon shining bright over head. Branches and thorny vines catch at your clothes and skin, they create tears and light scratches on your clothes and skin and you close your eyes willing yourself to go faster and faster until the feeling beneath your feet changes to a hard unpleasant feeling. A light on the black of the road beneath you makes you snap your head to the left where two large headlights comes zooming at you., just as you are about to feel the harsh cold of metal and death a different kind of chill picks you up, and the feeling of gravity no longer weighs you down. You can hear the car swear nd crash and you an feel the breeze brush past your legs as the ground stays ever stationary below you. Much farther below you…you look up to see blood red eyes and a large grin staring at you their black ahired owner letting out a loud laugh,

“Where do you think you are going. Hm? You belong to me, little one, you are not going anywhere.” He says, his voice a deep velevty smooth as he speaks. It almost has you, until the sounds of panicked drivers bring you back. You kick and squirm only to grasp on to the stranger again when you nearly fall.

“Put me down!” You shout, trying to move barley doing so against his strong hold.. For a moment he does nothing but watch you squirm, predatorial eyes hidden behind his orange glasses before a wolfish grin spread across his face.

“Let you down? As you wish, little human,” 

You feel the wind rush past your ears as your heart plummets to the round much like yourself and as you close your eyes to wait for impact, it never comes. You are in the arms of your kidnapper once again. The feeling of your body shaking against his, the scent of your fear and the blood in your veins rushing everywhere as fast as it can is enough to make him chuckle as he looks down at your quivering form.. Despite the initial fear of being dropped from so high in the air, you manage to glare at him and through chattering teeth mutter.

“Asshole…”

His smirk level leaves his face and a feeling of nausea washes over your mind , feeling your stomach turn you close your eyes and try to will it away only to open your eyes to the same room you had woke up in. The window seems to be fixed and you doubt that you’ll be able to break it again, whatever he is, you bet he has some sort of magic that would prevent you from doing what you did the first time a second. As you look around you find that the sheets are perfectly tucked in around you again. In the corner of the room, sitting in an ornate chair like a king on his throne your capture sits watching you’re every move.

“Thinking about escaping again, little bride?”

[disguisedchaos]

Got inspired by @saruin 's 'Sakura Demon' Set💗

🌸 Tishi is cheerful, romantic and outgoing. He's a adorable little Incubus who really loves being one🌸

A big THANK YOU to all the amazing cc creators I used for this sim! (I tried my best to figure out what I used ♡)

@saruin (Sakura Demon Set & Body Preset) @pralinesims (Rings) @trillyke (Skirt) @simandy (Hair) @twisted-cat (Lipstick) @remussirion (Eyeshadow) @clumsyalienn (Earrings) @simbience (Ears & Skinblend) @madlensims (Boots) @auralixx (Gradient) @thepeachyfaerie (Blush & Eyeliner) @pyxiidis (Body Glitter) @obscurus-sims (Eyebrows) @crypticsim (Highlighter) @nell-le (Top & Fishnet) @wotunciba (CAS Poses)

[ekman]

Delon nous a quitté dimanche dernier. Fin de bobine. 

La salle s’éclaire, les yeux piquent, les assises se rabattent sèchement sur les dossiers, les gens piétinent vers la sortie. Le bel Alain s’en est allé pour de bon, lui qui – semble-t-il – avait déjà quitté le monde sensé, laissant ses glorieux enfants se déchirer autour d’un terril d’or.

Journalistes, politiques, pipoles et piplettes : ils n’ont tous que des superlatifs à la bouche. Machin y va de son “c’était le dernier monstre sacré”, Bidule nous rappelle que “c’était un vrai prince”. La presse idiote rivalise en putasserie unière, à qui la plus belle photo, à qui le plus pathétique titre en guimauve pur sucre.

Mais moi je me souviens, bande de hyènes. J’ai rien oublié du tout. Je me rappelle bien de la ringardisation à marche forcée du ci-devant Delon Alain, coupable de choix politiques impardonnables. Fallait les voir se pincer le nez, les tenanciers de ce merdique show-biz gavé de thunes. Tu citais Delon et voilà qu’ils avaient grave la gerbe, ces gauchistes gueulards et ces soixante-huitards pédos. Beuark ! Macho réac ! Machine à cash ! Vieux beau qui s’accroche ! Tout le catalogue des amabilités en travers de sa belle gueule, le Delon. Ah ça oui, fallait les voir tortiller du cul quand on leur faisait remarquer que son fric, lui, il allait le chercher à Caracas et à Kyoto en vendant des clopes et du cognac pendant qu’eux tapinaient sous les lambris des ministères comme des putes de chantier pour se gaver d’argent public. Et pour quoi faire ? Des films de merde labellisés gauche-xanax où des couples idiots s’engueulent à la cuisine pour des histoires d’adultère foireux tristes à mourir. 

Je n’ai jamais pris Delon très au sérieux. Ça n’était pas un vrai soldat, pas complètement un tapin, plutôt un assez mauvais comédien... mais quel acteur ! Quel talent, le félin ! Au-delà de sa belle gueule, il y avait son charme infini de scorpion astralement pur : intransigeant, égocentré, jaloux, lumineux, charmeur, menteur. Elles ont été quelques-unes à y laisser des larmes. Et pas qu’un peu : par bonbonnes entières ! Mais lui s’en foutait. Il aimait, il vivait, il partait. C’est comme ça qu’il les a tous et toutes bluffé(e)s pendant plus de quatre-vingt ans. Au final, c’est la caméra qui l’a le mieux aimé. Cinégénique à en crever, le bonhomme. Pas un angle, pas une ombre pour nuire à sa beauté solaire – ce qui est le comble pour un aussi ténébreux Narcisse. 

Tous les plans qui éclairent Delon sont une ode à la masculinité. Même avec un imper trop grand et un bitos rivé sur le crâne, il est crédible. Je veux bien croire qu’il y en a quelques-uns que ça a vraiment du faire bisquer, dans le métier.

Avez-vous remarqué que “masculinité” lui va bien mieux que “virilité” ? Je dis cela parce que Delon n’inspirait pas le cul – il n’y avait rien chez lui de léger en bagatelle ou d’ostentatoire en braguette. C’était un dominateur silencieux, une emprise, un orage. Les femmes – et surtout les plus inaccessibles d’entre elles – ne s’y trompaient pas. Elles cédaient et lui, tranquillement, disposait. Avec tact et élégance sans doute, en tout cas jusqu’à son départ.

Et le voilà parti pour de bon. Un de plus, un de moins, peut-être le dernier. En tout cas, c’est bien raccord avec cette époque qu’il vomissait, à juste titre.

J.-M. M.

[fishyfishyfish0258]

[tl;dr vent despre politică, experiența mea ca persoană queer și toate cele, sorry :[ ]

e un chin sa trăiești ca persoană queer acu' când sunt alegerile că numai chestii homofobe aud și parcă nu mai scap. mă simt ca o oaie neagră pentru ceva ce n-am ales și n-am cu cine vorbi că aparent toți oamenii cu care intru în contact sunt homofobi într-un fel sau altul.

în țara asta încă se mai folosește gay ca insultă (cel puțin aia a fost experiența mea de gimnaziu și liceu) până la ăia care se plâng de lgbt pe facebook (că ai mei dau BLANĂ PE TELEFONUL LOR) că hĂĂ hĂĂ bărBAȚi îN fUStE hĂĂ hĂă.

nici nu-s impresionat, că educația cam... scârțâie aici. dacă nu ești violent și/sau nu ești vreo fițoasă, ești mâncat de viu și ești bătaia de joc al clasei (zic din experiență). nu te învață empatia, cum e să fii minoritate, toate cele. oricine-i diferit trebuie să prioriteze să iasă cu cât mai puține sechele posibil.

cam aproape toți din viața mea sunt homofobi și trebuie să înghit toate mizeriile doar ca să nu mă dau de gol. (nu mi-am făcut coming-out-ul și nici nu vreau pentru siguranța mea considerând cum e totul și sunt 100% sigură că nu voi fi acceptată). aud tot timpul de la cunoscuți cum existența persoanelor queer (și, indirect, existența mea) e anormală, păcat, ș.a.

și aia doare, ști? să fii țapul ispășitor și în școală, și-n societate pentru ceva ce n-ai ales. că societatea asta urăște oamenii ca mine atât de mult încât votează cu un dus-cu-pluta doar ca să scape de noi. singura oară când pot fi eu, așa autentic, e când sunt singur. nu cunosc alți oameni queer români cu care să le pot spune of-ul meu și începe încet-încet să mă apese.

încerc să mă țin tare că poate va fi ceva și pentru mine într-o zi. încă doare. dar e ceva.

[dr-borpo]

NIGHTBREED PACK -- KINSKI & NARCISSE

Happy belated Simblreen everyone! In tradition, I am 1000% late to the party and posting this in November, but this pack was one of the planned uploads I had for this month! (This ended up being the busiest month of the year for me so I do apologize.)

With that, I'd like to introduce you to Kinski and Narcisse from Clive Barker's Nightbreed, based on the novella Cabal. This is one of my favorite films of all time and I have been dying to bring these guys to life in game! The whole film has a menagerie of different monsters but these two are some of my favorites.

This is also the very first time I've created CC! I created a swatch for Narcisse using @ugliecc's Skinless Beauty skin detail, which you will need to use my swatch. For Kinski, I created a forehead preset that gives him that *chef's kiss* crescent-moon face.

CC Credits and Download Link on my Patreon Below the Cut

DOWNLOAD AND CC CREDITS

(BASE GAME COMPATIBLE)

CC Creators (that I could find): @sewersims @faaeish @pyxis-likes-ts4 @shandir @obscurus-sims @o--b-s-c-u-r-u--s @ssspringroll @aniraklova @s-club-tbr @simdulgencemods @nell-le @ugliecc @rachirdsims @crilender @golyhawhaw @dumbabysims @pirumxsim @aleniksimmer @solistair @kotcatmeow @plazasims @luumia @makesims

DOWNLOAD LINK AT MY PATREON HERE

I have also added Voidfeather's now MIA CC in the same ZIP as my swatch and preset.

KINSKI:

Head

Skin Details: Dark Force by Sewer Sims, Nose Shaders by faaeish, AboutFace by PYXIS, Tired Gaunt Overlays by Voidfeather, Facial Structure by faaeish

Facial Hair: Renathal Beard by Shandir

Presets/Sliders: Kinski Forehead by drborpo (included on my Patreon), Nose Slider by obscurus, Eyesocket Extreme by ssspringroll

Makeup: N3 Lips by Obscurus, Gore Collection by PaleSecret

Body/Traits/Skills:

Outfit: Werewolf Jacket by UTOPYA, Raver Chained Pants by AnirakLova

Sliders: Thigh Slider by hokusai26, Enhanced Butt Slider by cmar, Enhanced Thighs by cmar

Accessories: Dalila Rings by Moriel, LL Ring by S-Club

Body Hair: Male Body Hair by simdulgence

Traits: Heroic by chingyu, Calm by Kuttoe

NARCISSE

Skin Details/Hair: Skinless Beauty by UGLIE + Swatch by Me (included on Patreon), Eyebags by obscurus, Pop Eyebrows by rachirdsims, Teeth by cerberus, Tired Gaunt Overlays by Voidfeather, Nose Shaders by faaeish, Ortheka Hair by Voidfeather, Creep Hair by sewersims, CAS Unlocks by crilender

Presets/Sliders: Extreme Eyesocket by ssspringroll, Nose Slider by Obscurus, Glasses Control by ICONIC, Neck Slider by GOLY, Creepy Grin by Dumbaby, Jawline by pirumxsim

Makeup: Gore Collection by PaleSecret, N3 Lips by obscurus, Chat Blanc Blush by AleNik

Accessories: Talmor Hat by Moriel

Body/Traits/Skills:

Outfit: Longcoat by Solistair, Skinny Jeans by KOTCAT, V-coat by plazasims, Stellar Stuff Top by SSP, Male Kimono Jacket by NELL

Sliders: Neck Height by LUUMIA

Accessories: Live Fast Gloves by MakeSims, Clothing Dirt by MoonchildLovesTheNight

Traits: Insane and Creepy by chingyu

[rollinginthedeep-swan]

RPG et anxiété.

Tw : Anxiété généralisée.

Encore un sujet qui va me stresser une fois publié, dont j'avais envie de parler sans trop savoir comment et, ce soir, je tente le coup. Parlons "relations" sur les réseaux/rpg et anxiété ! C'est quelque chose dont je souffre et contre lequel je lutte à peu-près chaque jour. Les pensées intrusives sont terribles, la crainte qu'un quiproquo débile plus encore suite à des évènements passés qui, j'en suis certaine, auraient pu être évités. Je peux me prendre la tête et réfléchir trop vite, trop longuement, sur des petits riens un peu insignifiants tout en craignant que certaines situations passées se reproduisent. Quand c'est comme ça, j'ai tendance à serrer les dents, attendre que mes craintes soient indirectement contredites et respirer de soulagement après en silence, et hop ni vu ni connu ! (Appelez moi la houdini du stress. Bon par contre, les maux de ventre sont un peu moins fun. ) L'objectif n'étant pas de me flageller mais ne pas empiéter sur l'espace des autres. Oui, c'est contraignant, mais mes troubles ne doivent jamais empiéter sur le loisir des autres. C'est mon problème, je suis suivie pour ça.

Néanmoins, tout ce que je peux dire c'est qu'il est plus qu'essentiel de :

Tenter de communiquer en cas de doutes. Et surtout, ne pas faire de suppositions qu'on valide par le biais de nos propres certitudes et rejeter une personne sous prétexte qu'elle n'a pas su communiquer une information selon vos propres critères. (on le rappel, les troubles dys, la neuAtypie, la fatigue etc... existent.) En discutant, on se rend très souvent compte qu'en réalité, ce n'est pas du tout ce qu'on pensait. On s'épargne ainsi un drame inutile - a-t-on vraiment le temps pour ça, btw ? (NON.) - et l’opportunité de, peut-être, renforcer des liens entre Rpgistes tout en mettant à la porte des comportements problématiques qu'on a trop longtemps laissé passer par le passé. (En évitant de mettre de côté des personnes sous prétexte qu'elles sont un peu différentes, au passage.)

Ne pas oublier qu'on ne sait pas tous forcément parler de nos doutes ou qu'on a pas toujours envie de le faire par crainte d'agacer l'autre, qu'on est des êtres humains avec une vie en dehors du RPG, de tumblr, de discord, et qu'on est désormais nombreux-ses à être plus qu'adulte avec une vie IRL franchement déjà assez compliquée. (Et puis bon, les étudiant-es et/ou les plus jeunes aussi ont le droit d'être crevé-e-s, et on connaît ni la vie des autres, ni leurs contraintes ou l'état de leur santé.)

On va pas le répéter - si - mais la bienveillance, vraiment, c'est un banger. À consommer sans modérations.

Pour ma part, je ne peux que conseiller aux personnes de venir me parler si quelque chose a été mal perçu. Et sentir sans avoir de confirmations, tourner en rond sur 'ce truc qui ne va pas mais impossible de savoir quoi', c'est quelque chose de profondément déstabilisant ?

En ce qui concerne la gestion de ma propre anxiété, je ne sais toujours pas totalement comment vraiment vivre avec, mais je le fais au quotidien et je suppose que je chaque jour, je me débrouille un peu mieux. C'est pas mes seules contraintes, néanmoins, les autres sont bien plus privées.

Bref, je sais pas trop si ce poste est bien utile ou sera bien perçu mais voilà.

Des bises sur vous,

Swan qui ne sait pas si elle va laisser ce poste ?

[lamargi]

- Queste scarpe mi uccidono….., dico con una smorfia mentre mi lascio cadere sul divano e ne sfilo una….

Siamo di ritorno dal matrimonio di mia nipote. Ovviamente, come nonna della sposa, sono stata particolarmente attenta a presentarmi elegante e a posto, sapendo che avrei avuto con il resto della famiglia gli occhi addosso degli altri invitati.

Ma forse alla mia età non posso più permettermi di tenere i tacchi alti per tante ore….

- Vu….vuoi che ti aiuti, nonna?

A parlare è mio nipote, l’altro, il maschio, più piccolo di sua sorella la sposa. È lui che mi ha riaccompagnato a casa. Ci siamo divisi in più auto dopo la cerimonia e Marco mi ha fatto da autista. Sotto casa, gli ho detto di salire con me. Sembrava contento.

Adesso, quella frase mi ha un po’ sorpreso. Lo guardo. È arrossito. Però non so che dire, è una offerta così dolce….

Si inginocchia davanti il divano. Sfila una scarpa con delicatezza. Prende il mio piede tra le mani. Comincia a massaggiarlo. Sono ancora più stupita, ma devo ammettere che era proprio ciò che mi ci voleva…..

- A…a…anche l’altra, nonna?

Non rispondo, ma gli porgo il piede. Sfila anche l’altra scarpa. Le sue dita mi massaggiano i piedi. Avvolgono i talloni. Passano delicatamente sotto la pianta. Inarco il piedino. Massaggia, o dovrei dire piuttosto accarezza, le dita.

Mi sfugge un gemito. - Sei bravo….

Il massaggio è ancora più intenso. E me lo godo. Avvolge con le dita la caviglia, pressa nei punti giusti. È tutto intento nel suo lavoro, lo guardo ma tiene il capo chino, non lo solleva nemmeno verso di me.

- Ma dove hai imparato?, dico ridendo.

Mi sembra che inghiotta a vuoto. - V..vu…vuoi che smetta, nonna?

- oh no, assolutamente, rispondo e inarco ancora i piedini.

- Ha…hai dei piedi bellissimi, nonna….

Che dolce complimento. Da mio nipote, ma pur sempre un complimento, e per una vecchia signora….

- Lo pensi davvero o lo dici solo per fare contenta tua nonna?

Che perfida che sei, così lo metti in imbarazzo, il cucciolo.

Ma lui continua, quelle dita, quello sfiorare delicatamente, ora la monta, ora la pianta dei miei piedini, mmm, non riesco a non pensare a quanto siano sensuali quelle carezze. Cosa mi sta succedendo?

- Si, lo p…pp…penso….

-Grazie Marco, quelle scarpe sono eleganti, ma così strette……

Mi sfugge ancora un gemito, quando Marco prende un piede fra le mani e lo porta alle labbra, e le poggia sopra, per un bacio.

O forse sono stata io a spingere il mio piede verso la sua bocca, fino a premerlo sulle sue labbra….

Che importa. Adesso è la pianta, poggiata sul suo viso, che lui bacia. E poi le dita. E poi di nuovo la monta, e la caviglia, risalendo, finché non è la punta della sua lingua che sento attraverso le calze sulla pelle e lui che comincia a leccare piano la gamba….

Potrei fermarlo, certo, allontanarlo, tirare indietro le gambe, sgridarlo…..Invece poggio l’altro piede sulla sua guancia e lo uso per accarezzargli il viso….

- N…no…nonna, hai delle c..ca….calze bellissime, mormora in un sussurro, senza smettere di baciarmi e leccarmi le gambe.

- Davvero ti piacciono le mie calze, amore?, gli dico mettendo una mano sulla sua testa, le dita fra i capelli.

- e….la …riga…., sussurra ancora. Quelle scarpe, con quei piccolissimi pompon, che sapevo avrebbero guidato gli occhi sulla riga delle mie calze….non ho fatto male a metterle, proprio no….

La sua bocca è risalita, mi bacia sulle ginocchia, ora. Si ferma. Solleva finalmente il viso. I nostri occhi finalmente si incrociano.

- s…scu…scusa, nonna. Ho perso la testa…., lo dice strozzato, quasi un singhiozzo.

- Tu solo?, è la mia risposta. Con le dita laccate stringo il suo viso fra le mani. E, dolcemente lo attiro verso il mio grembo. Lo guido a continuare e baciare e leccarmi le calze, mentre allargo le gambe e lo attiro in mezzo alle mie cosce.

Quando le sue labbra arrivano a sfiorare le mutandine di pizzo, emetto un gemito più forte degli altri e un incontrollato riflesso mi fa stringere le cosce sul suo viso. Le sue labbra sentiranno le mutandine bagnate.

Stamattina le ho indossate sopra il reggicalze. Sarà facile farmele sfilare per poi farmelo su questo divano.