#Liverpool chick

[szariahwroteit]

FUNGIRL A Trent Alexander-Arnold + Original Character Erotic Series.

Chapter 2

18+ Minors DNI

In the week that saw Trent photographed by paparazzi on a rather intimate date with an emerging model, Amber had gone radio silent. Completely ignoring him was as mature as she was willing to be.

Every message and FaceTime went unanswered; he followed her on Instagram before she promptly blocked him, confident that this time would be the last.

Although Amber understood that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, the fact that he’d stepped out so publicly with a woman felt as though he was claiming her, and in a way, shitting on her.

“Are you going to walk around looking like a sad puppy?” her older sister Natalia smirked empathetically.

Unlike her younger sister, who had left their hometown in Los Angeles to study law in Harvard before moving to London when she was offered a job within one of the most reputable firms in the city, Natalia stayed home in Los Angeles with their parents and younger brother.

By no means was it her proudest moment, but one night Amber officially reached her breaking point. She needed to get the hurt she felt off her chest, and her older sister offered an ear without any judgment.

“Maybe,” Amber pouted as she made her way back into the office, smiling politely at the familiar faces she passed as she returned from her lunch break. 

“You're way too cute to have any man making you feel this way,” Natalia smiled empathetically. 

As Amber made her way back towards her desk, the floor’s receptionist called her name and waved her over. “Amber! You have a delivery,” she said, holding up a medium-sized cardboard box and a small bouquet of pink roses.

Amber’s heart skipped a beat as she approached the reception desk, her mind racing. Could it be from Trent? She quickly squashed that thought, reminding herself of the last week’s events. Still, a flicker of hope ignited within her as she took the flowers and box from the receptionist.

“Who are they from?” Natalia asked curiously, her face contorting into a curious frown on her sister’s phone screen as Amber turned away from the receptionist to make her way over to her desk. 

“I don’t know yet,” Amber replied, carefully removing a small white envelope from the flowers. Inside, she found a white piece of card with something scribbled on the back of it. Turning it over, her heart skipped a beat.

“Call me when you get these. - Trent,” she read aloud, her voice tinged with surprise and a hint of disbelief. The words echoed in her mind, stirring a mix of emotions that she had been trying to suppress. 

“What’s in the box?” Natalia asked, leaning in closer, her curiosity piqued.

Amber carefully set the flowers down on her desk, propped up her phone and opened the box, her heart racing with anticipation. Inside, she found an unmistakable ox-blood box and instantly froze.

“No fucking way!” Natalia gasped into her sister’s ear-pod, her voice barely above a whisper. “He brought you Cartier?”

Amber’s hands trembled slightly as she lifted the lid of the jewellery box, revealing a set of beautiful diamond earrings. 

The earrings were absolutely beautiful, dancing against the low lighting of the office floor. As the daughter of a high-powered lawyer and a former beauty queen turned relationship guru and therapist, she knew luxury. Her childhood was one filled with debutante balls and societal engagements. 

But this was different. The diamonds she held in her hand symbolized so much more than beautiful jewellery. 

“Diamond earrings!” Natalia exclaimed, her voice a mix of disbelief and caution as she watched Amber’s face drop.

“I…I don’t want them,” Amber stammered, her heart racing for a different reason now. “This is too much. It feels wrong, I have to send them back.”

“What do you mean?” Natalia asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“We’re not together, I’ve been avoiding him since the pictures of him came out on the internet. If this is an olive branch it feels wrong.” The idea that Trent thought she could be brought made her skin crawl, that her pride and self respect came at a price no matter how beautiful the jewellery was. 

The gift, or olive branch, or whatever he thought this was, felt as though it had been given as a means of balm for the hurt she felt and keep her in a place of wading. A means of keeping her around and, most importantly, as if that was what he thought she wanted from him.

Amber’s vision blurred slightly as she fought back tears. “I don’t want to be someone’s consolation prize,” she said, her voice trembling. “I don’t want to feel like I’m being bought or have a price, this doesn't make up for my feelings.”

Natalia sighed, her expression softening. “I get it, Amber. But maybe he’s trying to show you he’s serious about wanting to make things right. This isn’t just a random gift; it’s a statement.”

“Or it’s a way to keep me there without actually keeping me,” Amber countered, shaking her head. “I don’t want to fall for it. I need to stand my ground.”

“Then do that,” Natalia encouraged, placing a comforting hand on her sister’s shoulder. “But you should at least talk to him. You owe it to yourself to hear him out instead of beating yourself up about it. You can’t just ignore everything and pretend it didn’t happen.”

Amber took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “I know you’re right. I just… I don’t want to keep hurting myself. I don’t want to be vulnerable with him.”

“Then set your boundaries,” Natalia suggested. “You can tell him how you feel without giving in. You’re stronger than you think.”

Amber nodded slowly, her resolve hardening. “Okay, I’ll call him. But I’m not keeping the bag. I’ll return it, and I’ll make it clear that I don't see him as a meal ticket.”

“Good plan,” Natalia said, her voice filled with support. “You deserve to be treated with respect, not as a prize to be won back. Stay strong and call me later, I love you.” She continued before ending the Facetime call. 

Placing the lid back on the orange box, Amber packed it back into the bigger cardboard box it was delivered in and placed it safely beneath her desk. 

With a newfound determination, Amber picked up her phone and dialled Trent’s number. As it rang, she felt a mix of anxiety and empowerment. She was ready to confront him, to voice her feelings, and to reclaim her power in this situation.

“It’s me,” she said when he finally picked up, her heart pounding. “Trent, I don't want it.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and Amber could almost hear Trent processing her words. “What do you mean?” he finally asked, his voice a mix of confusion and concern.

“I mean the bag,” Amber clarified, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her. “I don’t want it. I don’t want any of this. It feels wrong, and it feels like you’re trying to buy my forgiveness.”

“Amber, I—” he started, but she cut him off.

“No, let me finish,” she insisted, her heart racing. “I’ve been avoiding you because I needed time to think. I saw those pictures, and it hurt. I know you said you didn’t want anything serious from anyone, but those pictures suggested otherwise. So I’d rather quit while I’m ahead.”

“Amber, please,” Trent interjected, his voice rising slightly in urgency. “I never meant to hurt you. Those pictures… they were a mistake. I was trying to figure things out, and I didn’t think about how it would affect you.”

“Exactly,” Amber replied, her voice firm. “You didn’t think about me and I wish you did,” she sighed sadly. 

“I know,” he said, his tone softening. “And I’m sorry. I should have communicated better. I should have been more considerate of your feelings. I just… I got caught up in everything, and I didn’t handle it well.”

Amber felt a pang of sympathy for him, but she quickly reminded herself of the hurt she had felt over the past days. “Please just give me an address I can send the purse and flowers and I’ll be out of your hair, Trent.”

Thankful for the current scarcity of staff on the office floor, Amber squeezed her eyes shut as she pulled the phone away from her ear before hanging up abruptly. 

She knew if she stayed on the phone to Trent any longer her true feelings were liable to slip and she refused to take any more blows to her pride where he was concerned. 

Hours away from the capital in Liverpool Trent sat completely stunned. He gathered Amber wasn’t impressed with his recent antics, based on her silence over the last week or so, but the hurt in her voice had caught him off guard. He had expected anger, maybe even some tears, but the way she had calmly stated her boundaries made him realize just how serious this was. 

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He had thought the bag would be a way to bridge the gap, a gesture to show her he cared. But now, it felt like he had only made things worse. 

“Fuck me,” he muttered to himself, sinking into the edge of his bed as he took a seat. 

Trent stared at his phone for a long moment after Amber ended the call. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, her words echoing in his mind.

"Please just give me an address I can send the purse and flowers and I'll be out of your hair, Trent."

Out of his hair? Those were fighting words if he ever heard them. He wanted to argue back, to tell her she was being ridiculous and that he cared about her more than any bag or public appearance could prove. But something in her voice stopped him cold.

She wasn't asking for apologies or promises, or even his attention. She was setting boundaries, making it clear what she would and wouldn't accept from him moving forward.

Trent sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process everything that had happened. What made matters worse was that he liked Amber, she was a beautiful woman and a pleasure to be around in more ways than one. 

Each of their encounters had been intense passionate, exhilarating...and sometimes messy. But he loved his life as is, he loved the freedom to do as he pleased without consequence or explanation. 

To Trent, going to dinner with a girl he’d been introduced to by a friend was him exercising his freedom as a single man, a man without consequence or explanation.

As one of the brightest stars in football, he had always been in the spotlight, and he had revelled in it. But now, he was faced with the reality that his actions had consequences, and those consequences were hurting someone he genuinely cared about.

He leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling as he replayed the conversation in his mind. Amber’s voice had been steady, but the hurt was palpable. He had never intended to hurt her; he had just been trying to navigate his chaotic life, and in doing so, he had.

Trent picked up his phone again, scrolling through his contacts until he found Amber’s name. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the call button. What could he say that would make any difference? He had already hurt whether or not it was in his intention to, and now he was left with the aftermath of his choices.

He thought back to their time together—the laughter, the late-night conversations, the way she lit up when she talked about her dreams. She was more than just a pretty face; she was ambitious, driven, and had a fire in her that he admired. But his admiration didn’t outweigh his desire to do as he pleased.

His desire to look for those same qualities in other women. 

Trent felt a pang of guilt wash over him as he acknowledged the truth of his actions. He had taken Amber for granted, assuming she would always be there, waiting for him to figure things out. But now, he was faced with the reality that he might lose her for good if he didn’t change his approach.

He set his phone down and stood up, pacing the room as he tried to gather his thoughts. He needed to do something meaningful, something that would show Amber he was serious about wanting to make things right. The bag and flowers had been a misguided attempt to bridge the gap, but now he realized that they were just superficial gestures. What he needed was to confront his own feelings and be honest with her.

After a long fortnight of football matches and travelling, he had plans of spending his hard-earned weekend relaxing, but instead, he now stood trying to map out the quickest route to drive from Liverpool to London. 

His decision was impulsive, but he couldn’t shake the hurt in Amber’s voice from his mind no matter how hard he tried. The way her Southern Californian accent lacked its usual charm. 

Letting out a sigh, Trent stood from his bed and made his way into his closet to find something appropriate to wear. He rifled through his clothes, pulling out a crisp white shirt and a black sweatsuit. 

As he dressed, he mentally prepared himself for the conversation he hoped to have with Amber. He needed to be honest about his feelings, to show her that regardless of whether or not wanted to do as he pleased, he understood the gravity of his lack of consideration. He wanted her to know that he cared about her.

Once he was dressed, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. The drive from Liverpool to London was about two and a half hours, but he was determined to make it in less time. He needed to see her, to talk to her face-to-face. 

As he drove, he replayed their last conversation in his mind, trying to anticipate her reactions. Would she be open to seeing him? Would she even want to talk? The uncertainty gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside, focusing instead on the road ahead.

When he finally arrived in London, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the frost-bitten city. 

As he drove towards the city centre he came to a humbling realization, he’d sent the gifts to her office building not because he knew that’s where she’d be, but because he didn’t know where she lived and he was able to obtain the office’s addresses with a google search. 

Every time they’d been intimate it had been in the confines of a hotel room, a fleeting moment of passion and desire before he went on his way again, before he went on to the next. 

Pulling onto the side of a street, Trent pulled out his phone sifting through it until he found Amber’s contact again. 

Part of him knew she didn’t owe him her time or attention, but he still felt compelled to reach out. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the call button once more. What could he say that would make any difference? He had already hurt her, and now he was left with the aftermath of his choices.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to send a text instead. 

Trent: Amber, I’m in London. Can we meet?

He hit send and waited, his heart racing as he stared at the screen. The minutes felt like hours as he watched the three dots appear and disappear, a constant reminder of his anxiety. Finally, his phone buzzed.

Amber: I’m busy, Trent.

The response stung, but he refused to let it deter him. He quickly typed back. 

Trent: I understand, but I really need to see you. Please, just a few minutes.

He waited, his palms sweaty on the steering wheel. After what felt like an eternity, she replied. 

Amber: fine. 

Trent let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as her previous message was followed up by an address to her apartment building. 

Amber: Meet me at my place in 20 minutes.

Trent's heart raced as he typed a quick acknowledgement. He quickly entered the address into his GPS, feeling a mix of excitement and dread. This was it—his chance to make things right, to show Amber that he genuinely cared about her feelings.

As he drove through the bustling streets of London, he couldn’t help but think about how selfish he’d been, not only to Amber but the others. The laughter they shared, the way she challenged him, and the warmth of her presence. He had been so caught up in his world that he hadn’t considered how his actions would affect her. 

Arriving at her apartment building, he parked and took a moment to collect himself. He could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him. This wasn’t just about the bag or the flowers; it was about their connection and the trust that had been shaken.

He walked up to the entrance and buzzed her apartment. After a moment, he heard her voice through the intercom. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

There was a pause, and he could almost hear her weighing her options. Finally, the door clicked open. He stepped inside, his heart pounding as he made his way to her floor.

When he reached her door, he took a deep breath and knocked. The sound echoed in the quiet hallway, and he felt a rush of nerves. What if she didn’t want to see him? What if she slammed the door in his face?

But the door opened, and there she stood, looking both beautiful and guarded. Amber’s expression was a mix of surprise and wariness, her arms crossed over her chest as if to shield herself from whatever he might say.

“Trent,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” he replied, his heart racing. “Can we talk?”

Amber hesitated, her eyes searching his face for something—an apology, a reason, a sign that he understood. Finally, she stepped aside, allowing him to enter. 

The apartment was cozy, filled with soft lighting and the faint scent of vanilla. It felt like a sanctuary, a stark contrast to the chaos of their recent interactions. 

“Sit down,” she said, motioning to the stylish small white couch. He took a seat, feeling the weight of her gaze on him. 

“I’m sorry for everything,” he began, his voice earnest. “I didn’t think about how my actions would affect you. I was caught up in my own world, and I didn’t consider your feelings at all.”

Amber remained silent, her expression unreadable. He could see the hurt in her eyes, and it made his chest tighten.

“I thought sending the bag and flowers would help,” he continued, frustration creeping into his voice. “But I realize now that it was a stupid move. I was trying to fix things without really understanding what I needed to fix.”

“Trent,” she finally spoke, her voice steady but laced with emotion. “You can’t just throw gifts at someone and expect everything to be okay. It doesn’t work like that.”

“I know,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I was an idiot. I thought maybe if I showed you I cared tangibly, it would make up for everything.”

Amber’s expression softened slightly, but she still looked guarded. “You hurt me, Trent. Seeing those pictures… it felt like a slap in the face to have you tell me you don’t want anything serious with anybody and then be out so publicly with someone. I feel worthless.”

“You’re not,” he insisted, leaning forward. “You’re not worthless, Amber. You’re an incredible woman.”

“Just not one you care to take seriously,” Amber said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “I’m just sex to you Trent.”

Trent felt a sharp pang in his chest at her words. “That’s not true,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re so much more than that to me. I’ve never seen you as just a fling. I care about you, Amber. I really do.”

“Then why did you let the world see you with her?” she shot back, her voice rising slightly. “As a man who’s adamant he wants to be single, why claim her like that? Because I’m just pussy to you, worthless, replaceable pussy.”

Amber couldn’t even articulate the idea of her not being enough for him, it hurt entirely too much. But deep down that is exactly how she felt. 

Trent's heart ached at her words, the raw pain in her voice cutting deeper than he had anticipated. “Amber, please don’t say that,” he pleaded, his voice trembling. “You’re not just sex to me. I’ve never treated you like that. I was trying to figure out my life, and I messed up. I didn’t think about how my actions would affect you, and I’m so sorry for that.”

“Maybe this should be it, Trent.” Amber interrupted, her voice trembling with emotion. “Maybe this is where we draw the line. I can’t keep putting myself in a position where I feel like I’m not enough for you. I deserve better than that.”

Trent felt a wave of desperation wash over him. “No, please don’t say that. I don’t want to lose you. I know I’ve messed up, but I want to make it right. I want to show you that I can be better.”

“Better?” she echoed, her eyes narrowing. “What does that even mean? Do you think a few nice words and a bag can fix this? You think I’m just going to forget how you made me feel? How I've made myself feel?”

“No, I don’t think that,” he said, his voice earnest. “But I want to try.”

Amber shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Please don't say things we both know you don't mean.” 

“Amber, I mean it,” Trent said, his voice filled with urgency. “I know I’ve hurt you, but that wasn't my intention.”

“The thing is Trent you did and it's both our fault, when you told me you had no interest in anything serious I should have listened.” Amber pointed out painfully, her voice soft. “But I let myself hope for something more. I thought maybe you’d change your mind, that we could be something real. And then I saw those pictures, and it shattered everything.”

Trent couldn't bear the look on Amber’s face, standing from his seat he strode over to wear she stood clutching her body for some form of comfort in such an uncomfortable situation. 

Amber’s breath caught in her throat as Trent pulled her body into his arms, allowing her to cry into his chest as he held her. 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured again, feeling the warmth of her body against his and the weight of her tears soaking into his shirt. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was foolish and thoughtless, and I can’t express how much I regret it.”

Amber’s sobs began to quiet as she leaned into him, her body trembling with the release of pent-up emotions. “This isn't right, this isn't what you wanted,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. “You shouldn’t have to feel obligated to comfort me.”

Trent tightened his grip around her, unwilling to let go. “Stop,” he said softly, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be.”

Amber searched his gaze, looking for any hint of insincerity, but all she found was a deep-seated regret and a flicker of hope.

Laying her head against Trent’s chest, she allowed herself to be fully vulnerable for the first time since the fallout. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat provided a sense of comfort she hadn’t realized she craved. 

“Come back to Liverpool with me tonight, spend the weekend with me,” he murmured into her hair, his voice low and earnest. “Let’s talk this through, away from all the noise and distractions. I want to show you that I’m serious about making things right.”

Amber pulled back slightly, searching his eyes for any sign of insincerity. “You really think that’s a good idea? After everything that’s happened?”

“I do,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I want to prove to you that I can be better. I want to show you that I care about you, not just with words, but with actions.”

She hesitated, her heart torn between the desire to believe him and the fear of getting hurt again. “What if it doesn’t change anything? What if we just end up in the same place?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said, his voice steady. “But I need you to give me a chance. I can’t fix this without you.”

Amber took a deep breath, weighing her options. The thought of spending the weekend with him was both thrilling and terrifying. She wanted to believe that the dynamic could change, that he could be the man she wanted him to be. But the fear of being hurt again loomed large in her mind.

“Okay,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come with you. But I need you to be straight up with me, if this isn't what you want I’d rather you let me down easy.”

Trent nodded, his expression earnest. “I promise, Amber. I’ll be completely honest with you. I don’t want to play games anymore. I want to be real with you.”

Amber felt a flicker of hope at his words, but she still held onto her reservations. “If there are going to be other women I’d rather not know,” she said in complete disbelief of her own words as they left her lips.

Trent made her feel pathetic, but still she couldn’t bring herself to fully cut ties. 

“I understand,” he replied, his voice steady. “I won’t put you in that position. I want to focus on us, on what we have. I know I’ve messed up, but I want to make it right.”

Amber nodded slowly, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. She was stepping into uncharted territory, and while a part of her was excited, another part was terrified of the potential heartbreak that could follow. “Okay,” she said, her voice firmer now. “Let’s see where this weekend goes.”

“Let’s,” Trent smiled softly as their eyes met, the tension between them easing just a bit. He could see the flicker of hope in Amber’s eyes, and it filled him with determination. This was his chance to prove himself, to show her that he wasn’t the man his actions suggested.

As Amber gathered her things in preparation of an impromptu weekend in Liverpool with Trent, her heart fluttering in her chest as he sat comfortably on her bed watching her. 

“Come here,” he said softly, gesturing for her to join him. Amber hesitated for a moment, her heart racing as she considered the implications of moving closer to him. But the warmth in his voice and the sincerity in his eyes drew her in.

She walked over and sat beside him, feeling the familiar spark of connection that had always been there between them. Taking her hand into his, he guided her on top of him so she straddled his lap, her cheeks flushed as he gazed up at her. 

“Where are the earrings and flowers I sent?” Trent asked, a hint of a smirk present in his voice. 

“I threw the flowers in the trash and the earrings are in my closet,” Amber replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her stomach. She felt a mix of defiance and vulnerability as she looked down at him, their positions shifting the dynamic between them. 

Trent raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “You really didn’t like the earrings?”

“It’s not that I didn’t like them,” she said, her tone serious. “It’s just… it felt wrong. Like you were trying to buy my forgiveness or something.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “I get that. I thought it would help bridge the gap, but I see it fell flat. I want you to keep it, though.”

Amber's heart raced at his insistence. “Trent, I can’t.”

Trent’s gaze was unwavering, and he leaned in closer, his voice low and sincere. “You can and you will, it’s yours.

Instead of continuing their back and forth, Amber climbed off of Trent’s lap to continue packing for the weekend. 

As she moved around the room, gathering her essentials, she felt Trent's eyes on her, a mix of admiration and concern etched on his face. The tension in the air was palpable, and Amber couldn't shake the feeling that they were at a crossroads.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Trent asked, breaking the silence as she folded a few clothes into her overnight bag. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

Amber paused, looking over her shoulder at him. “I’m not doing this because I feel pressured. I’m doing this because I want to,”

As present and in the moment as Trent was, he allowed his eyes to slip and study her figure as she stood in an oversized tank that showed off the swell of the sides of her breasts and a pair bicycle shorts that looked as though they’d been painted on. 

The idea that he’d made such a beautiful girl question her worth didn’t sit right with him, regardless of whether or not he was looking for anything serious with anyone. 

By the time Amber had finished packing a small Louis Vuitton duffle bag, outside was completely dark. Making sure all of the lights in her apartment were off, she followed Trent out into the evening. 

The drive from just west of central London to Liverpool took about two and a half hours, but the time seemed to fly by as they talked and laughed, the tension between them slowly dissipating. Amber found herself relaxing in Trent’s presence, the warmth of his smile and the sincerity in his voice easing her worries, if only a little.

As they drove, they discussed everything from their favorite movies to their childhood memories, and Amber felt a sense of normalcy returning. It was as if the weight of the past week was lifting, and she could almost forget the hurt that had lingered between them.

By the time they got to Trent’s neighborhood the nighttime had completely taken over, Amber sat in quiet awe as she took in each large, beautiful house they passed. 

This would mark the first time she’d ever been in Trent’s space and she couldn’t help but wonder what the premier league star’s house would look like. 

Trent parked in the driveway of a sleek, modern house that stood out among the others on his street, its clean lines and expansive windows inviting curiosity. Amber felt a flutter of apprehension and excitement as he turned off the engine and opened the door for her. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said with a faint smile, leading her up the stone walkway. The house was impressive, a testament to his success, but it felt oddly warm and inviting. 

As they stepped inside, Amber was immediately struck by the spaciousness of the living room. High ceilings, contemporary art pieces adorning the walls, and minimalistic furniture created an airy atmosphere. Cozy textures were layered throughout, and soft lighting cast a gentle glow, making it feel almost intimate. 

“Make yourself at home,” Trent said, casually tossing his keys onto a nearby counter. Amber wandered further into the space, taking in the details—the bookshelf filled with an eclectic mix of novels, the framed photos capturing candid moments from Trent's life with his family.

“Wow, this is really nice,” she remarked, turning to face him with a genuine smile, feeling a little more at ease. “You’ve done well for yourself.”

He chuckled softly, leaning against the kitchen island. “Thanks. It’s taken some time to make it feel like home. I travel a lot, so I wanted somewhere to come back to that felt… personal.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Amber replied, her gaze drifting over the sleek appliances and the small touches that hinted at his personality. “It feels lived in.”

“Exactly,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Want something to drink? I think I have a decent bottle of wine stashed away somewhere.”

Amber bit her lip, considering. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

As Trent disappeared into the kitchen, Amber took a moment to absorb the environment fully. The artworks scattered throughout the space hinted at a sensitive side she hadn’t quite seen before, the mix of personal and professional resonating with her more than she'd expected.

“Here we go,” he returned a moment later, a bottle of red wine in hand and two glasses dangling from his fingers. “I hope you’re a fan of Merlot.”

“Always.” Amber smiled as he poured the rich, deep liquid, the aroma filling the air.

They settled on the couch, their knees almost touching but with enough space to allow for the tension that still lingered in the air. As they shared the wine, they spoke lightheartedly at first, their laughter echoing through the living room.

But as the evening wore on and the bottles dwindled, the atmosphere shifted subtly. Amber felt the weight of their earlier conversation press upon them, and she realized that they would have to address the elephant in the room sooner or later.

“Trent,” she began, twirling her glass nervously. “I appreciate you bringing me here and wanting to make things right, but I need to know what you really want from this.”

Trent set his glass down, his expression growing serious. “I want to be honest with you, Amber. I like you and I want to continue seeing you, but I also need time to figure things out.”

Amber felt her heart race as his words hung in the air, the weight of his admissions settling over them. “You like me?” she repeated, searching his eyes for any trace of insincerity, but all she saw was earnestness.

“I do,” he said, leaning slightly closer, his voice low. “But I also know I’ve messed things up. I want to be real with you moving forward, but I can’t promise some fairytale outcome overnight.”

Her pulse quickened at his honesty, the mixture of hope and uncertainty swirling inside her. “So, you’re saying you want to see where this goes?” 

“Exactly,” he replied, his gaze steady. “But I need to do it right this time. I don’t want you to feel like you have to earn my attention or that I’m keeping you at arm’s length. You deserve better.”

Amber couldn’t help but smile slightly at his words. The vulnerability he was showing was so different from what she’d experienced before with him. “I just don’t want to go back to feeling like I’m not enough or like I’m something to do when there’s nothing to do.”

Trent reached out, taking her hand in his and squeezing gently. “You are more than that. You have to believe me.” 

His touch sent a shiver up her spine, igniting a chemistry that had been brewing between them all along. Still, the remnants of her heartache loomed heavy. 

Pushing all rational thought to the back of her mind, Amber leaned into Trent pressing his lips against hers as he melted into his seat, swiftly pulling her body on top of his. 

Lost in the moment, Amber felt the warmth of his body envelop her. The kiss was electric, igniting every nerve ending as she responded instinctively to the heat radiating between them. It was unlike any kiss they had shared before—fueled by the pent-up emotions from their tumultuous journey, each brush of his lips against hers whispered promises of something more.

Trent’s hands found their way to her waist, holding her firmly yet tenderly as though she might slip away if he didn’t. She reveled in the feeling of being wanted, the way he kissed her with a desperation that mirrored her own longing. The world around them faded, leaving just the two of them tangled in each other and the weight of their unspoken feelings.

As they pulled apart, breathless and wide-eyed, Amber searched Trent’s face for a hint of what he was thinking. “I—”

“What is it?” he cut her off softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I want you to fuck me,” Amber murmured, her heart racing at the audacity of her words. It felt both liberating and terrifying to voice what she desperately craved. 

Trent's eyes darkened with intensity, a mix of surprise and undeniable hunger flickering across his features. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and taut, like a bowstring ready to snap. 

Amber nodded, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her. “I need to feel something real right now, something that reminds me of the connection we have. It’s been too much chaos lately, I just want to feel you.”

And feel him she did. 

Amber lay back on the plush sofa, her legs spread wide as Trent knelt between them. His hands gripped her inner thighs, fingers digging into the soft skin as he gazed up at her with hungry eyes.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he groaned, his breath hot against her dampening pussy lips. "I could eat this sweet little pussy all day."

Trent dove in without hesitation, his tongue delving deep to taste Amber's arousal. She let out a sharp gasp, hips bucking slightly at the sudden sensation.

"Oh god... Trent..." Her voice trailed off into a moan as he worked his magic, lapping and sucking with increasing fervour.

He alternated between long, slow strokes of his tongue and quick flicks against her sensitive clit. Amber's head thrashed from side to side, her shiny black hair splayed across the cushions as she struggled to maintain coherence.

"That's it, baby... just like that," she panted. 

Trent's hands slid up Amber's body to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over the hardening nipples. He suckled harder on her pussy, determined to make her come undone.

“Like this?” Trent asked raising his head, his chin and lips glistening with her arousal as he puckered them and allowed a bead of his spit to fall into her clit, before sucking it back into his mouth, his eye’s never leaving hers. 

Amber's eyes widened as Trent's saliva hit her sensitive clit, the added moisture sending shockwaves through her body. "Yes, god yes..." she whimpered, arching into his touch.

Trent continued to lavish attention on her sex, alternating between sucking and licking in a relentless rhythm that had Amber teetering on the edge of climax. She could feel the pressure building inside her, coiling tighter with each pass of his tongue.

"I'm so close... don't stop," she begged breathlessly, fingers tangling in Trent's tapered curls.

He obliged, as he devoured her pussy like a man starved. The room filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and wet slapping noises as he ate out Amber with wild abandon.

Just when it seemed he might push her over the precipice at any moment, Trent pulled back slightly. “Reach down and spread pussy open for me,” he instructed. 

Amber's heart raced as Trent commanded her to spread her pussy open for him. She instinctively tried to close her thighs, but he held them apart with a firm grip.

"Please... I'm so sensitive," she whimpered, feeling exposed and vulnerable in that moment.

Trent didn't relent, his intense gaze never leaving her face. "That's the point, beautiful. You're mine to play with right now."

With shaking hands, Amber reached down and grasped the swollen lips of her sex. She parted them slowly, revealing the glistening pink flesh within. A trickle of arousal escaped, dripping down onto the sofa cushion below.

"There you go," Trent purred approvingly, leaning forward once more to lap at her juices greedily. His tongue delved deep into her folds again, swirling around her clit before tracing up and down each side of her slit.

The added stimulation from spreading herself wide made everything feel even more intense for Amber.

Amber's head thrashed back and forth as Trent worked her over, the combination of his skilled tongue and her shameless display pushing her to the brink. "Oh fuck, oh my god... I'm gonna cum baby!" she wailed.

Trent responded by redoubling his efforts, sucking harder on her clit while thrusting two fingers deep into Amber's twitching channel. He curled them just right, rubbing that sweet spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids.

With a keening cry, Amber shattered once more beneath him. Her pussy clenched rhythmically around his invading digits as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over her. This time, Trent didn't pull away – he kept eating at her sex until she'd ridden out every last tremor.

Only then did he withdraw his fingers and sit back on his heels to admire his handiwork: Amber lying spent and sated on the sofa, thighs still parted in invitation.

“More,” she breathed, her fingers gently tracing over her sensitive pussy as their eyes met. 

“More?” Trent repeated. 

Instead of offering him a verbal response, Amber sat up and moved over onto her hands and knees, a deep arch in her spine. She wanted him to fuck her until the hurt and embarrassment she’d felt over the last week were wiped clean from her mind. 

Trent's eyes widened at the sight of Amber presenting herself so wantonly. He swallowed hard, his cock throbbing in response to her display. 

"Fuck, baby... you're incredible," he murmured, a low growl building in his chest as he pulled off his pants and boxers. His rigid erection sprang free, thick and pulsing with need.

Trent positioned himself behind Amber, running the head of his dick along her soaked folds teasingly before pushing inside. She was still sensitive from her previous orgasms but welcomed the stretch as he filled her gradually.

"Ohhhh shit..." she moaned, arching back into him before he abruptly pulled himself from her. 

“I need you in my bed,” Trent growled, his voice thick with desire, as he quickly grabbed Amber's waist and spun her around to face him. He claimed her lips with a fierce kiss, tongues dancing as they both breathed heavily through their noses, the tension crackling between them.

“Let’s go,” he said, his breath warm against her cheek, as he scooped her up effortlessly, causing her to gasp in surprise. His hands gripped her thigh while she wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the unmistakable heat of his body against hers.

With a powerful stride, Trent carried her upstairs to his bedroom, their breaths mingling with the urgency of their need. He kicked open the door, quickly stepping inside before gently setting her on the bed. 

Amber's heart raced as he stepped back to admire her; the flush of passion coloured her cheeks, and her body gleamed with a sheen of perspiration, the sight of her drove him wild. 

“Can I return the favour?” she asked, eyeing his long, thick cock that hung heavily beneath them. 

“You want to?” Trent asked taking hold of his length, slowly stroking from tip to base and back again as Amber crawled to the edge of the bed. 

Amber's eyes widened at the sight of Trent's impressive erection, her gaze locked onto it hungrily. "Yes," she breathed, reaching out to wrap a hand around his shaft. "I want to taste you."

Without waiting for an invitation, Amber leaned forward and took him into her mouth, moaning softly as he filled her oral cavity. She began to bob her head slowly, savoring the saltysweet flavor of his precum on her tongue.

Trent let out a low groan as Amber worked him over with skillful lips and tongue. Her free hand fondled his balls while she sucked gently on the tip of his cockhead.

"Fuck... just like that," he encouraged through gritted teeth, fingers tangling in Amber's hair. "You're amazing."

Emboldened by his praise, Amber increased the pace of her ministration.

Trent watched in awe as Amber made a mess on him, saliva and pre-cum coating his cock as she took him deeper, the warmth of her mouth and her eyes never breaking contact with his driving him wild with lust. He could feel the heat pooling in his belly, every flick of her tongue sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through him.

“God, Amber,” he gasped, tilting his hips forward to meet her mouth as she sucked harder, pulling him in deeper until her throat constricted around his length. 

In response, she moaned, sending vibrations through his shaft that had him groaning louder. The sight of her on her knees, completely absorbed in pleasuring him, was more arousing than he could have imagined. 

“Breathe through your nose, baby,” he murmured, pulling back slightly to let her catch her breath. “You’re doing so good, so messy for me.”

Spit dripped from Amber’s chin gathering on her chest and flat stomach as she allowed Trent to have his way with her mouth and throat. 

Reaching between her own legs, Amber gagged as her fingers came into contact with her clit, instantly sending a chill down her spine as she refused to break eye contact with the man before her. 

As Trent's cock slid deeper into her mouth, Amber felt a surge of pride and desire. She loved the power she wielded with her lips and tongue, the ability to make him groan and tremble beneath her touch. Her own arousal grew with each thrust, juices dripping down her thighs as she sucked him harder.

Trent tangled his fingers in Amber's hair, guiding her pace as he rolled his hips against her face. "Just like that... fuck yes," he panted, eyes locked on hers as she worked him over.

Amber moaned around his length, sending vibrations through his shaft that had him gasping for breath. She could taste the salty tang of his precum mingling with the musky scent of their combined arousal filling the air.

Lost in the moment, Amber forgot about everything else  Trent's fame, their complicated relationship status, even her dreams for a more meaningful connection. All that mattered was pleasing this man who stirred such intense passion within her.

Amber’s mind turned to mush as Trent fucked her throat, his hand gripping her hair into a messy ponytail as she took him. 

Trent hated how selfish his thoughts may have sounded, but there was no way he was actually going to allow Amber to walk away. His interest in other women didn’t take away from what he felt towards her. 

Pulling her mouth off of him Trent watched in awe as a string of her saliva ran from her lips to his hard dick. 

As Trent pulled out of Amber's mouth, she gasped for air, eyes glazed with lust. He was so hard and thick in her hand, the head glistening with saliva. 

"Hmm... you taste amazing," she purred, stroking him slowly as she looked up at him through heavy eyelashes.

Trent shuddered at her touch, his breath hitching in his chest. "You're fucking incredible," he rasped, reaching down to help her off the bed. 

Amber let him pull her to her feet and then turned around to present herself once more. She spread her legs wider, giving Trent an unobstructed view of her dripping pussy.

Trent stepped forward, his eyes locked onto Amber's glistening sex. With a reverent hand, he cupped her ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled her back against him.

"You're so ready for me," he growled approvingly, rubbing the head of his cock along her slick folds. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name."

Amber shivered at his words, a thrill running through her at the promise of rough passion. She reached back to guide him inside, but Trent wasn't having it. Instead, he gripped both of her hips and slammed into her with one powerful thrust.

A sharp cry escaped Amber's lips as she was filled to the brim by Trent's thick length. He didn't give her time to adjust before pulling out and driving in again, setting a relentless pace that had them both panting within moments.

"Yes... just like that!"

Trent grunted with each powerful stroke, his hips snapping forward to bury himself in Amber's heat again and again. He could feel her pussy clenching around him, her inner walls rippling along his length as he claimed her thoroughly.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, sweat beading on his brow from exertion. "Take it all, baby."

Amber moaned wantonly, pushing back to meet every thrust. The slap of skin against skin filled the room as Trent thrusted into her with abandon, their bodies moving in perfect sync.

He reached around to thumb at her clit roughly while continuing to piston into her slick channel. The added stimulation had Amber seeing stars within moments.

"Oh god... I'm going to cum!" she keened loudly.

Within an instant Amber was beneath Trent, their foreheads pressed against the other and her legs over his shoulders as he buried himself inside of her, making her take every last inch of him as he bottomed out. 

“Trent, you’re so big!” Amber squealed, the indescribable pleasure she felt accompanied by a dull ache. 

"Shhh, take it," Trent whispered against Amber's ear, his hips never ceasing their relentless rhythm as he pistoned in and out of her clenching heat. "Your little pussy was made for my cock."

Amber whimpered, trying to catch her breath between cries of pleasure as Trent's thumb rubbed merciless circles over her hypersensitive clit. "Don't stop..."

With a guttural growl, Trent slammed into her one final time, holding still as his release hit. Amber felt each hot spurt of his cum filling her to the brim, marking her insides with his claiming essence. "Fuck yes... give it to me," he panted, grinding against her to prolong the sensation.

As Trent slowly withdrew, his softening member slipped free with a wet sound, followed by a trickle of their combined fluids onto the bed sheets below.

As caught up in pleasure as he was, Trent noticed Amber had rolled away from him, putting some distance between them in his spacious bed, an action he didn’t approve of. 

Wrapping his arm around her waist, Trent pulled her body against his, turning her so she faced him as they both lay catching their breath. 

As their eyes met, a moment of vulnerability passed between them. The haze of passion began to lift, revealing the reality of their situation. Amber's heart raced, not just from the physical exertion but from the emotional weight of what had just transpired.

"That was... intense," she breathed, her cheeks flushed as Trent tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Trent smiled softly, brushing his thumb along her cheek.

“Yes.”

[millythegoat]

What it feels to watch two match at the same time

[shezboydblundell]

Shelly Boyd Munro 😍

[octuscle]

hey can your app help me?

Im in my third year of uni and i’m really not sure why I took this degree. I finish in a year and have no clue what i want to do with my life. I go to uni in a very chavy area and they all seem so chilled and laid back. it makes me very envious. I’ve always worked hard in school and at uni too and now I wish I could just relax and do fuck all like them. I’m swamped in deadlines and just need to get rid of all this stress. any solutions your app can offer?

Mate, I wouldn't just throw away all the hard work I've done over the last few years now. Ever thought about taking a vacation? Just switch off for a few days. Mallorca is supposed to be lovely this time of year. The air is pleasant, the sea is still warm…

Okay, the flight from Stansted to Palma was really exhausting. When you have the scallies as close to you as in the plane, they are not relaxed. Then they are loud. Then they are obtrusive. And then they have a dubious body hygiene. You just want to get out of the plane. In such a hurry that you take the wrong bag out of the hand luggage compartment. But you only realize this when you are sitting in the cab and want to tell the cab driver the address of your hotel. The only thing in the side pocket is a Thomas Cook voucher booklet. With vouchers for bus transportation. And for a two-star hotel in the third row in Magaluf. Damn, your wallet is gone, your documents, your money. How are you supposed to go on vacation for a week with 200 pounds in your pocket? Okay, according to the voucher even 10 days. But all inclusive. Fuck, make the best of it.

The cab driver throws you out of the cab. Obviously you have no money. The first bus to your hotel has left in the meantime. But the Thomas Cook representative shows you where the next one is waiting for you. In the bag was a pack of cigarettes. Actually, you don't smoke. But it's a vacation.

At the hotel, the lady at the front desk tells you that you have a voucher for half a double room. Your roommate is already upstairs. She can't give you a second key. If you want a single room, it costs 50 euros. Fuck again! Fucking Euros! You don't have any… You thought there was no euro since Brexit. Dude, get a grip… You can't get a clear thought together. Before you go to the room, you take a sip of the free sangria. Shit, that's sweet! A Guiness would be better now. One of the scallies from the plane bumps into you from behind. Your Sangria flows over your shirt and your pants. "Don't giv two shites, mate," says the chav. "but ya're wearin' way too much for a vacation in mallorca anyway." And laughs. It doesn't help, you have to go to your room and change. You knock on the door. Once more. Once more. One more time. "Hey, what the fuck, i'm fuckin' reel na," you hear from the room. "Mate, let me in, i dinnit hav a fuckin' key!" Did you really say that now. Your mate opens the door. Condom over rock hard boner. Makes high five, turns around and fucks the chick again.

You go into the bathroom with your bag. Fuck, your mate has already done a great job. You count at least five condoms. In the toilet, on the floor, in the sink. You take off your wet and sticky clothes and look what's in your bag. Five minutes later, you're standing in front of the mirror in surf shorts, wifebeaters, long white soccer socks and Adidas flip-flops. Now put on the fake gold chain. Hehehe, perfect for the pool party!

It is 02:00 o'clock, when you are drunk again at the room. From inside you hear your roommate snoring. You yell until angry shouts come from all the other rooms except yours. Hehehe, in the room next to you lives one of the horny guys from Liverpool, whom you have blown a while ago. He lets you into his room and you climb over the balcony into yours. Try it at least. You fall. Fortunately, you are on the first floor. Nevertheless, you have to puke from shock. And then you fall asleep in the flowerbeds.

After a week, you know which waiter you can bum cigarettes from. And which guest will give you ten euros for a blow job. Best vacation ever. Fuck yeah, your underpants are all either pissed or jizzed. You don't have a single clean t-shirt left, but on the beach you bought some fake soccer jerseys for a few euros. And the EA7 sports shorts look like real ones too. Hehehe, Liam lost his shirt in some chick's room again. And Darren is drunk again! Without you they wouldn't even find their hotel….

Tonight Germany plays against England. You want to go by bus to Palma. Watch the game. And no matter how it ends: Afterwards there will be a juicy brawl with a few German fans. As I said: Best vacation ever!

Fittin' pic found at @scallyplanet 

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Adam22, Felice Allesandri, Clem Burke, Dale Carnegie, Billy Connolly, Denise Crosby, Candy Darling, Howard Duff, Donald “Duck” Dunn, Colin Hanks, the great American composer Scott Joplin, producer-songwriter Terry Lewis, Stanley Livingston, Lee Michaels, Charles Theodore Pachebel, Elvis Ramone, Dave Sinclair (Caravan, Hatfield & the North), Baruch Spinoza, Staind, Chad Taylor (Live), keyboardist Richard Tee, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Robin Williamson (Incredible String Band), Teddy Wilson, Jim Yester (The Association), and Pete Best, the original drummer for The Beatles. That’s him on the Decca audition tapes and other early recordings. Deep Beatlemaniacs know that, in 1962, Best was replaced by Ringo Starr, which led to the classic line-up of the Fab Four. That episode is shrouded in urban legend, including rumors that Best was sacked because he was a bigger “chick magnet” than Paul McCartney. The true reason was more prosaic—Ringo had more experienced chops. It was an emotionally-wrenching career move for both Best and the other Beatles as they’d grown up together in Liverpool.

Best retired from drumming in the late 60s and became a civil servant. Then the 1995 Beatles ANTHOLOGY restored him to the public eye. At the behest of family, fans, and friends, Best formed a band and hit the road. In 2005 I was playing keyboards for The Davy Jones Band at a music festival in Newport, Rhode Island, and The Pete Best Band opened with a raw, rowdy rave up show, replicating the Beatles Cavern Club rock’n’roll set from the early 60s. It was a blast to watch! I lost my photo of Pete and I at the catering tent, but in this video I’m watching sidestage w/family members. HB Pete and God bless your rock’n’roll heart!

#beatles #petebest #drums #drummer #britishinvasion #davyjones #monkees #anthology #ringostarr #paulmccartney #cavernclub #liverpool #rhodeisland #newport #musicfestival #keyboards #johnnyjblair

[scotianostra]

November 6th 1919 saw the birth of the comedian and actor Chic Murray.

Charles Thomas McKinnon Murray was born in Greenock on the south bank of the River Clyde. After leaving school at the age of 14, he started work as an apprentice engineer in Kincaids Shipyard in Greenock in 1934. Meanwhile he was using his talents as an entertainer with amateur groups such as “The Whinhillbillies” and “Chic and His Chicks”.

Chic married Maidie Dickson and then formed a successful double act with her, their mixture of jokes and songs going down well with theatre audiences and, eventually, on television. Billed as “Maidie and Murray” or the “The Tall Droll with the Small Doll”

Chic subsequently forged a successful solo career, ending up with a BBC Scotland series called “Chic’s Chat”. He also acted in films such as Casino Royale, and appeared as the headmaster in the 1980 Scottish film, Gregory’s Girl. In 1984 he played the Liverpool Football Club manager Bill Shankly in the musical play You’ll Never Walk Alone.

Chic Murray died in Edinburgh in 1985 at the age of sixty-five. He is widely regarded to have been one of the most influential Scottish comedians of the 20th Century.

Here are some of the best examples of his razor-sharp jokes and one-liners.

My father was a simple man; my mother was a simple woman; you see the result standing in front of you, a simpleton.

It’s a small world, but I wouldn’t want to have to paint it.

After I told my wife that black underwear turned me on, she didn't wash my Y-fronts for a month.

She had been married so often she bought a drip-dry wedding dress.

We were so poor; the ultimate luxury in our house at the time was ashtrays without advertisements.

The police stopped me when I was out in my car. They told me it was a spot check. I admitted to two pimples and a boil.

I met this cowboy with a brown paper hat, paper waistcoat and paper trousers. He was wanted for rustling.

I dreamt I was forced to eat 25lb of marshmallows. When I woke up, my pillow was missing.

A Scot is a man who keeps the Sabbath, and everything else he can lay his hands on.

If something’s neither here nor there, where the hell is it?

If it weren’t for marriage, husband and wives would have to fight with strangers.

It was raining cats and dogs, and I fell in a poodle.

I felt as out of place as a left-handed violinist in a crowded string section.

[resplendentoutfit]

(Studio of) Hans Holbein the younger (c.1497–1543) • Portrait of Henry VIII • c. 1540 • Collection of Walker Art Gallery, National Museums of Liverpool

Ah, the codpiece! Much studied, written about, and speculated upon. In reading various articles online, I discovered an entire book devoted to its history and significance – “Thrust: A Spasmodic Pictorial History of the Codpiece in Art,” by Michael Glover. 

Above we have Henry VIII, showing off the bastion of his virility and strength – the bulk of his manhood. It apparently also doubled as a pincushion, as women would poke pins into the ornament as a means of fertility enhancement. Speaking of enhancement, the wearer often greatly exagerated the size of his member with padding and support to create the illusion of perpetual erectness.

"We use dress to construct an outward image of our perceived inner selves. The items we choose to adorn ourselves with are loaded with complex cultural messages."

– Victoria Bartells, University of Cambridge

Though none of Henry the VIII's codpieces remain, his suit of armor from 1540 is displayed at the Tower of London. 

The Renaissance fashion trend of the codpiece accompanied the change in men's doublets from narrow and long to ridiculously short and wider, creating a gap from which the man's penis might protrude, creating an embarrassment. Although initially developed to ensure modesty, the codpiece developed into a fashion statement, often being an integral part of a gentleman's attire. As such, it was often made from fine, matching or complementary colors and fabrics to the overall outfit. Among the royal and higher classes, the codpiece was often made from sumptuous fabrics and richly adorned with beading and embroidery.

Emperor Charles V with a Dog • Titian • 1533

From Glover's book, discussing the painting above, Emperor Charles V with a Dog, he probes the hound’s “questing muzzle,” which veers “sniffingly-close” to its master’s codpiece in what can only be “an allusion to the emperor’s virility.” Uhh...I wasn't going to mention it but it was too good to leave out.

As syphilis raged through Europe starting in the late 1400s, the codpiece took on the functional role of a receptical to hold ointments, oils, and a plethora of herbs to "cure" the affliction. Cultural anthropologist Grace Q. Vicary states that this Renaisance version of today's P.P.E., was essentially the reason for the codpiece. She argues that it was German mercenaries who developed the contraption, as they were the first to be afflicted with syphilis and responsible for its spread.

By the 1590s, the codpiece fell out of favor with the fashionable. Whether it intended to be fashionable or medicinal, the codpiece enjoyed a brief fashion moment but assured its place in history so we could joke about it to perpetuaty.

References:

• fashionhistory.fitnyc.edu

• A Brief History of the Codpiece, the Personal Protection for Renaissance Equipment by Dan Piepenbring (newyorker.com)

• A little article on the history of the codpiece (lucyworsley.com)

• Cambridge University

• The Medievalist

• Messy-Nessy Chick

[nemolfc]

When you mention dreams, it reminds of a dream I had about Sergio long time ago. I was in a bar in England, where he was getting a lap dance from some chick. They told me it's his girlfriend. I don't know who did.

😅😅😅😅

hahahaha stop this is too good 😂 I had an intricate and elaborate dream about Liverpool!Xabi in the old days, being humbled by a singer, he was giving major fuckboi vibes

[tavolgisvist]

'A touch can mean so much'...

But the Beatles are always nearby, as a touchstone and renewing memory. “It’s good talking with you,” McCartney says at the end of one session, then recalls an encounter with Lennon a few years after the band broke up. “He hugged me. It was great, because we didn’t normally do that. He said, ‘It’s good to touch.’ I always remembered that – it’s good to touch.”

(Paul McCartney, August 10, 2016, interview with David Fricke for The Rolling Stone) 

'A few years after the band broke up'? What if it's about their - P&J - meeting in March of 1974?

Question: Tell me your story about meeting John Lennon. Tony Manero: It was back in May of 1974. I saw three guys walking down the block. John was always my idol. I went up to him and said, "I know a lot of people hassle you, but I just want to thank you for your music. I've enjoyed you and you've helped me through a lot of emotional times." Outside Jimmy's Bar in Greenwich Village he said, "Why don't you come inside for a drink?" … Question: Then what happened? Tony Manero: At one stage I went out, and when I came back he was talking to this woman and he said "She said, 'I thought he was Paul, meaning McCartney.'" So John turns around and says, "No, he's prettier than Pauly. He's got a nicer mouth than Pauly. Pauly's got a small mouth." Then he turned to me and said, "Let's go get some chicks." This man was giving me a dream to pay millions for. I hung out with him. John almost admitted his gay tendencies. He put his arm around me. He said, "It feels good to hold someone. You know what I mean?"...

(Tony Manero about meeting with John Lennon in May of 1974: interview, summer 1992 - from Glass Onion by Geoffrey Giuliano, 1999)

And when I touch you I feel happy inside It’s such a feeling that my love I can’t hide

(I Want to Hold Your Hand, 1963)

Paul McCartney: Now I can look back on it and think “God, what a lovely guy, how privileged was I to run into him in Liverpool”. And I think we’ve both felt the same about each other. Just really quite chance meeting. It was through a mate of mine that I met John. But it was by chance. It was no setup. We didn’t go to the same school, but I went to the same school as the guy who introduced us. So thinking back on it, I do think “Oh, God, we’re very lucky”. I was thinking the other day, I wish I just sat and hugged him all the time we were together. But as you know, Adam, that probably would be slightly out of line. But it’s the kind of thing you think, you know, what about that? But guys didn’t do that kind of thing where I’m from. Adam Buxton: maybe that’s what alcohols are for… Paul McCartney: (laugh) hugging a lot. Adam Buxton: Enabling you to hug and be hugged. Paul McCartney: Yeah, well, you know, I know what you mean. Adam Buxton: It shouldn’t just be alcohol. Paul McCartney: I know what you mean. And so you know what happens in later years, now looking back on it all. You just think of little things. You think “Ah, that’s why that happened” or whatever. Or you may just think “I’ll just sit around and hug him forever”, because that’s the depth of my feeling for him…

(Paul McCartney, interviewiew with Adam Buxton, 2020)

A friend says that your love won't mean a lot But you know that your love is all you've got A touch can mean so much when it's all you've got But when she says she loves you, that means a lot Can't you see, yeah

(That Means A Lot, Feb.1965, PM)

+ this

[ghostie111]

Chick Graham and the Coasters at the Cavern Club Liverpool

He'd be about 14 real name Graham Jennings. His band were the original backing for Billy J Krammer. Before he got into Brian Epstein management. Gordon Mills renamed him Chick Graham. He also wrote their songs the second became a hit for Freddie and the Dreamers (Just a little you.) They broke up after that Jennings got fed up with the music business and went to do mental health issues.

[szariahwroteit]

FUNGIRL A Trent Alexander-Arnold + Original Character Erotic Series

Chapter 3

18+ Minors DNI

“Is there something you want to ask her?” Trent smirked knowingly, addressing the sporadic glances Marcel had been giving Amber when he thought no one was looking. He'd arrived at Trent’s house earlier that afternoon, surprised his brother had a guest staying over. A fucking stunning one at that.

“No, but you're lucky you got there first,” Marcel smiled teasingly at his older brother. “And she’s a lawyer.” Despite being related to arguably one of the brightest stars in British sports, Amber’s career was impressive to say the least, and somewhat a novelty to him. 

Trent raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh, so that’s why you're all flustered?” he laughed. 

Marcel shrugged, trying to play it off. “I’m not flustered.” He said in playful defence of his brother’s accusation. “And don’t act like you don’t find it sexy.” 

“I find everything about her sexy, that’s why she’s here with me,” Trent shot back, a smug grin spreading across his face. He loved the playful rivalry they had, but it was clear that Amber had sparked something in both of them. 

“Oh please,” Marcel continued, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated nonchalance. “You know I could take her  off your hands if I wanted to.”

Trent shook his head, the glint in his eyes betraying his mock annoyance. “You’re delusional if you think you can compete with me.”

Their banter turned into laughter, but the tension in the room shifted when Amber walked into the space, her bare feet padding against the kitchen floor as she wore one of Trent’s hoodies and pair of leggings, her thick and shiny black hair pulled back into a lazy bun. 

“Can I join you guys or is this a private brother conversation?” Amber asked, her voice light and curious as she leaned against the doorframe, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

Marcel felt his heart skip a beat. She looked effortlessly beautiful, and the sight of her in that oversized hoodie made him want to know what was underneath, but he respected his brother far too much, and he certainly wasn’t a man with the palette for someone else’s sloppy seconds.

“Come here,” Trent smiled, motioning for her to come towards him with a nod of his head before opening his arms so she could walk into his embrace. 

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his other hand coming to rest on the small of her back. 

Marcel watched in amusement as Amber and his brother shared a moment, the easy intimacy between them evident. It was clear that Trent had a soft spot for her, and Marcel couldn’t help but feel an inkling. He wasn’t about to make any verbal accusations or assumptions, but it was clear these were two people who liked one another. 

He laughed as Trent’s hand slipped to Amber’s behind, a boyish smile on his face as he gripped her flesh before she pushed it away and took a step back, slightly flustered. 

After such an emotional evening that transpired into a night of intense and passionate sex, Trent wanted to be close to her both physically and emotionally. He knew he wasn’t ready for the level of commitment and sacrifice that came with labels and titles, but he genuinely felt for Amber. 

Trent's eyes lit up with amusement as he noticed Marcel's lingering gaze on Amber, his brother's teasing tone and subtle competitiveness sparking a playful rivalry between them. He tightened his arm around Amber's shoulders, pulling her closer to him as if to mark her as his.

"Are you hungry?” he asked into her ear, his lips ghosting against the shell as his hands found her waist again. 

Amber turned her head slightly, her cheeks flushing at the closeness. “I could eat,” she replied, her voice soft and inviting. “What do you have in mind?”

“I want to take you to dinner later, but for now I'm sure there is something in the fridge we can whip up,” Trent explained. 

“We?” Amber asked, causing Marcel to fall out laughing as Trent rolled his eyes in mock exasperation.

“Yes we,” Trent confirmed as he turned her body away from his so he could guide her over to the refrigerator, pulling it open to see what they had to choose from. 

Browsing Trent’s fridge which held more liquids than any other food group, Amber pulled out a pack of steaks, a recipe instantly coming to mind. 

“Do you have taco ingredients here?” Amber asked over her shoulder, pulling open the draw of his refrigerator in search of vegetation. 

“Whatever isn't here I'd be happy to go and grab as long as I'm included in this,” Marcel said as he nodded his head towards the steak on Trent’s counter. 

Amber turned to Marcel, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I officially like you more than your brother.” she teased, a playful grin spreading across her face. 

Trent feigned a gasp, placing a hand over his heart in mock betrayal. “How could you say that? I’m the one who brought you here!” 

Marcel chuckled, enjoying the banter. “Yeah, but I’m the one who’s offering to help. Plus, I’m way better looking.” He winked at Amber, who laughed, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth.

“Okay, okay,” Amber said, raising her hands in surrender. “You both have your merits. But I’m leaning towards Marcel right now.” 

Trent rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto his face. “Whatever, he's a ‘pick me’,” he said, shaking his head in playful disdain.

Using his brother's phone to send Marcel a list of ingredients before he left the house to grab what they needed, Amber turned attention to the steak, removing it from its packaging as Trent came to stand behind her. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against the back of her neck as his hands slipped beneath the hoodie she wore, wrapping around her waist. 

Things between them were not as tense as they had been the evening before, but he knew the hurt she felt wasn't going to disappear overnight. 

Whether or not he meant to, his actions had hurt Amber and he wanted to make things right. They were both single by definition, but that didn't mean he could treat her like her feelings didn't matter.

Amber leaned back into him, her body instinctively seeking the warmth of his embrace. “Thank you,” she said softly, tilting her head slightly to look at him. “I know things got a little intense yesterday, and I'm sorry for off-loading on you in the way I did.”

“Do not apologize to me,” Trent sighed, his fingers gently tracing the smooth skin of her stomach. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

She turned to face him fully, her eyes searching his. “I’m okay, really. I enjoyed last night, but I also understand that we’re both figuring things out. I don’t want to put any pressure on you.”

He nodded, appreciating her understanding. “I like you, Amber. I really do. But I’m not sure I’m ready for anything serious right now.”

Amber smiled softly, her expression warm and reassuring. “I get it.”

In all honesty, she didn't but far too much had gone on in the last twenty-four hours. The hurt was still a little fresh and she knew that if she pressed too hard, it could push him away. “I just want to enjoy the time we have together without any expectations,” she added, her voice steady.

“Can I kiss you?” Trent asked, taking his bottom lip between his perfect rows of teeth as he gazed down at her. 

Amber's heart raced at the question, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling within her. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and the way he looked at her made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Yeah,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’d like that.”

Trent leaned in slowly, giving her a chance to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Instead, she tilted her head up slightly, closing the distance between them. His lips brushed against hers, tentative at first as if he was gauging her reaction. 

The kiss deepened, and Amber melted into him, her hands finding their way to his hair as she pulled him closer. It was sweet and soft, filled with an unspoken understanding of the complexities between them.

Lifting Amber onto the kitchen counter, Trent settled between her legs, his hands resting on her thighs as he deepened the kiss. The world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them in their own bubble of warmth and connection. 

Amber could feel the heat radiating from him, and the way he held her made her heart race. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him against her. The kiss was intoxicating, a mix of passion and tenderness that left her breathless.

Reaching for the hem of his hoodie, Trent pulled it over her head, groaning at the sight of her breast in the dainty lace-trimmed camisole she wore beneath it. 

His hands instinctively moved to her waist, fingers brushing against her skin as he took a moment to appreciate the way she looked. The soft fabric of her camisole contrasted beautifully with the warmth of her skin, and he felt a rush of desire course through him.

“Wow,” he breathed, his voice low and filled with admiration. “You’re stunning.”

Amber felt her cheeks flush at the compliment, a shy smile spreading across her lips. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. The way he looked at her made her feel beautiful and desired, and she couldn’t help but lean into him even more.

Trent leaned in again, capturing her lips with his, the kiss igniting a fire between them. He deepened the kiss, his hands exploring the curves of her body, tracing the outline of her hips and the small of her back. Amber responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, wanting to feel every bit of him against her.

The kitchen around them faded into the background as they lost themselves in each other. The world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the connection they were deepening at that moment. 

“Are you sure about this?” Trent murmured against her lips, his breath warm and inviting. He wanted to make sure she was comfortable, and that they were both on the same page.

Amber nodded, her heart racing with excitement. “I am. I want this, Trent. I want you.”

With her words, Trent felt a surge of confidence. He kissed her again, more passionately this time, as if he were trying to convey everything he felt for her in that single moment. His hands roamed freely, exploring the softness of her skin, the way her body responded to his touch igniting a primal urge within him.

As they kissed, the sound of the front door opening broke through their bubble, and they both froze, eyes wide. Marcel’s voice echoed through the house, calling out, “I’m back! Did I miss anything?”

Trent pulled away from Amber, a mix of amusement and frustration on his face. “Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

Amber giggled, the tension breaking as she slid off the counter, trying to regain her composure. “Guess we should act normal,” she said, her cheeks still flushed.

“Normal? After that?” Trent shot her a teasing look, but he couldn’t help but smile. “You’re right. Let’s just pretend we weren’t about to fu—”

“About to what?” Marcel interrupted as he walked into the kitchen, a bag of groceries in hand. He raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them with a knowing smirk.

The hoodie Amber wore before he left Trent’s house had been discarded on the floor, instead, she stood in a camisole that made Marcel clear his throat and look away from her out of respect for both Amber and his brother. 

“Mind your business,” Trent said, picking up his hoodie and handing it back to Amber, who quickly slipped it back on, her cheeks still flushed from the kiss and the sudden interruption. 

Taking the bag of groceries from Marcel, Amber turned away from the brothers and focused on the task at hand unable to face Trent’s younger brother. 

Emptying the grocery bag, Amber took the vegetables she’d requested over to the sink so she could wash them, before getting started on lunch. 

A little over two hours later, the only sounds in Trent’s living room came from the television or an exhalation of breath. Three eaten from plates sat on the coffee table in front of them as they watched the television. 

Amber sat in Trent’s lap, her head on his shoulder as he sat with his arm wrapped around her, his lips ghosting against her temple every time he spoke or moved his head. 

“Are you still up for going to dinner later?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he stroked her hair gently.

Amber lifted her head slightly, meeting his gaze. “I’d love to,” she replied, a smile spreading across her face.

“I made reservations for the two of us at a new Chinese restaurant I've been meaning to try,” Trent said, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“That sounds fantastic! What time are we going?” Amber replied, her enthusiasm evident. 

“Seven o’clock,” Trent said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “We have a little time to relax before we head out. I just wanted to make sure you still want to.”

Amber smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement at the thought of their dinner, they'd been on dates before, but something about this particular invite felt special, or maybe she was just reading into things further than need be. 

Marcel left once the movie they were watching came to an end, leaving Trent and Amber alone again as they prepared to head out for dinner. 

Leaving Trent in his living room, Amber made her way upstairs to shower and put herself together. By the time Trent made it upstairs, Amber was dressed in a short, long-sleeve black dress that fit her body like a glove.

“You look perfect,” Trent murmured as he came into his bedroom to join her, pressing a kiss to her cheek before making a beeline to his closet. 

Amber felt her heart flutter at the compliment, a warm blush creeping up her cheeks. “Thanks! I wanted to look nice,” she replied, twirling slightly to show off the dress. The fabric hugged her curves perfectly, and she felt confident and beautiful.

Trent rummaged through his closet, pulling out a fitted black cashmere sweater. “You definitely succeeded,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at her. “I might need to step up my game.”

“Don’t worry, you always look good,” Amber teased, leaning against the doorframe and watching him as he dressed. There was something undeniably attractive about the way he moved, the confidence he exuded as he slipped his shirt on.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he shot back with a playful grin, adjusting his top and giving himself a once-over in the mirror. “But seriously, I’m glad you’re here. I know it didn't come to be out of the best circumstances, but I enjoy having you here.”

Amber felt a warmth spread through her at his words. “I’m glad to be here too,” she replied sincerely, stepping closer to him. “It’s nice to have someone to share this time with, especially after everything.”

Trent turned to face her, his expression softening. “I know things have been a bit complicated, but I really appreciate how understanding you’ve been. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” Amber said, her heart swelling. “I think we’re both just trying to figure things out, and that’s okay.”

He nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. “Exactly. And I’m looking forward to tonight. Just us, good food, and hopefully some after-dinner entertainment.” Trent smiled knowingly. 

Amber blushed as she met his gaze, feeling a rush of excitement at the implication behind his words. “After-dinner entertainment, huh? What do you have in mind?” she asked, her voice playful.

Trent stepped closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, I was thinking we could continue what we started earlier in the kitchen,” he said, his tone teasing yet sincere. “But only if you’re up for it.”

Amber felt her heart race at the thought. “I’m definitely up for it,” she replied, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We still have dinner to enjoy first.”

“True,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “But I can’t help but think about how much I enjoy you.”

“Me too,” Amber admitted, her cheeks flushing. “I like this… whatever this is between us.”

Trent reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I like it too. And I want to make sure we take our time with it. No pressure, just enjoying each other’s company.”

“Agreed,” Amber said. 

Once they were both ready Amber and Trent left his house to head over to the upscale restaurant he'd made their reservation at. 

Amber found it intriguing how much like her, the rest of the world seemed to bend to the will of the premier league star. The moment they set foot into the restaurant they were greeted by a waiter who led them to a rather private and concealed table at the back of the room. 

The ambiance was warm and inviting, with soft lighting casting a golden glow over the elegant decor. Amber felt a thrill of excitement as they settled into their seats, the intimacy of the setting amplifying the connection she felt with Trent.

“This place is beautiful,” she remarked, glancing around at the tasteful artwork adorning the walls and the delicate arrangements of flowers on each table. “I can see why you wanted to come here.”

Trent smiled, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I thought you’d like it. The food is supposed to be good, and I figured it would be a nice change of pace for us.”

As they perused the menu, Amber couldn’t help but steal glances at Trent. He looked effortlessly handsome in his fitted sweater, the way he carried himself exuding confidence. She felt a flutter in her stomach, a mix of anticipation and nervousness as she thought about how the evening might unfold.

The food in the restaurant was amazing and the company was even better, by the time they left dinner both Trent and Amber had a light buzz, his hand resting comfortably on the small of her back as they walked out into the cool night air.

Trent stalked behind Amber as she led the way back towards his car, the swell of her ass in the little black dress she wore toying with him in the worst way. The soft jiggle of her ass did nothing to quell the heat pooling in his core. Each step she took seemed to send electric shocks of desire through his body, igniting a fire that was dangerously close to spilling over. The streetlights cast a warm glow, highlighting her curves and creating shadows that danced playfully around them.

Trent's thoughts wandered as he admired the way her dress clung to her every curve—it was a perfect fit, designed to tease and tantalize. He could picture her in his mind, that playful smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye. The more he watched her, the stronger his urge became to close the distance between them.

Amber turned suddenly, sensing his gaze, and caught him watching her with an amused smile. “Enjoying the view?” she teased, raising an eyebrow as she swayed slightly.

“Can you blame me?” he replied, voice low and gravelly as he reached for her, playfully taking a handful of her ass. 

Amber chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she playfully swatted Trent's hand away from her rear. "Keep your hands to yourself," she teased, though there was a hint of breathlessness in her voice that belied her words.

She sauntered closer to him, the stilettos clicking on the pavement of the quiet street accentuating the sway of her hips. Leaning in, Amber trailed a finger down his chest before hooking it into his belt loop. "Besides, I think we both know you're not here for the view alone." Her gaze dropped to his crotch where he was already starting to harden and tent in his pants.

Trent let out a low groan at her touch and subtle innuendo. The coil of tension between them grew tighter by the second. He gripped her hip possessively as he leaned down to capture her lips in a searing kiss filled with pent-up desire.

“Behave,” he warned pulling away from her lips. 

“Or what?” Amber smirked cocking her head to the side as she looked up at him through her lashes, her thick black hair falling over her shoulder in loose waves. 

Amber's smirk faltered for a moment as Trent pulled away, her lips still tingling from the intensity of their kiss. She bit back a whimper at the loss of his touch, but quickly recovered her playful demeanour.

"Or what?" she repeated, feigning innocence as she leaned against him, pressing her body flush to his, her nipples hard from the cold weather pressing against him.

Trent's eyes darkened as he felt the stiffness of her nipples against his chest. His hand came up to cup one, thumb brushing over the peak before she could pull away.

"You’ll have to wait and see," he growled into her ear, his voice low and menacing with barely restrained lust.

Amber let out a shuddering gasp at his words, her body trembling in response to the promise implicit in them. She knew exactly how much she was pushing him, but the thrill of it only heightened her arousal.

"Are you going to make me behave?” she asked enjoying this build-up almost as much as physical foreplay. 

Trent smirked at her challenge, his fingers digging into the side of her hip as he pulled her closer. "I'll do my best to try," he murmured darkly against the shell of her ear.

His free hand slid down to palm the curve of her ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh through the thin material of her dress. He could feel how wet she was already getting, despite their public location or perhaps because of it.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Amber," Trent warned lowly as he ground his hardness against her belly. "But I like it... I'm going to enjoy showing you just how much."

Stepping away from her, Trent took Amber's hand into his, practically dragging her back to his car so they could head back to his mansion. 

Trent's eyes never left Amber as he led her swiftly to his sleek black Bentley, opening the passenger door for her with a flourish. "Get in, I want to get you home," he commanded gruffly, his voice thick with desire.

Amber obeyed without question, sliding into the luxurious leather seat and smoothing her dress over her thighs. As Trent rounded the car and climbed behind the wheel, she couldn't help but admire the way his muscular arms flexed beneath his cashmere sweater.

Trent started the engine, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. The sexual tension between them was palpable, a living thing that pulsed in time with his racing heart.

As they pulled away from the curb, Trent's gaze kept drifting back to Amber's profile illuminated by the dashboard lights. He could smell her intoxicating perfume mingling with the scent of leather and hot metal an aphrodisiac that made him want to pull over and take her right there on the passenger seat.

The drive to his mansion seemed interminable, each minute stretching into eternity as Trent fought against his basic instincts. But finally, they arrived at the sprawling estate, its grandeur a stark contrast to the primal urges coursing through him.

Trent parked haphazardly on the driveway before turning off the engine and jerking open his door with a low growl.

He slammed the car door shut behind him and strode towards Amber's side, his legs eating up the distance. He yanked open her door and reached for her hand, pulling her out of the Bentley with a swift tug.

As soon as she was standing on shaky legs next to him, Trent wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her against his chest. His mouth crashed down on hers in a bruising kiss that stole the breath from her lungs.

He devoured her lips, his tongue delving deep to claim every inch of her mouth. The world melted away until there was only this them, lost in a maelstrom of hunger and desire.

Trent groaned into their kiss at the taste of Amber's sweetness mixed with wine from earlier. It only fueled his lust further. With unsteady fingers, he fumbled with the zipper of her dress before tearing it down impatiently before they'd even made it into the house. 

"I need you," he growled against her lips, the urgency in his voice sending another wave of heat coursing through her body. The zipper of her dress fell open, pooling around her hips, and all at once, Amber felt exposed and electrified.

“Then take me inside and have me,” she breathed her voice a sultry whisper that hung in the cold night air. There was an edge of daring in her tone, a challenge in her eyes that made Trent's blood race even faster. 

Trent's hands slid down Amber's sides, gripping her hips possessively. His touch ignited a fire within her, one that had been smouldering since she first laid eyes on him that evening. He could feel her tremble beneath his fingertips, a reaction he revelled in knowing he was the cause.

"Are you ready for this, Amber?" Trent asked, his voice low and husky as he gazed down at her. His eyes trailed hungrily over the swell of her breasts, barely concealed beneath the thin fabric of her dress. The sight sent a jolt of electricity straight to his core.

Amber's response was lost in a strangled moan as Trent's fingers found their way beneath her dress, skimming teasingly along her inner thigh. She arched into his touch, craving more but he retreated with a wicked grin.

Trent leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Let's take this inside before we end up right here on the driveway," he whispered, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down Amber's spine.

With a growl of impatience, Trent swept Amber into his arms and carried her towards the house. She wrapped her legs around him instinctively, feeling the hard bulge of his arousal pressing insistently against her core.

As they stepped through the front door, Trent kicked it shut behind them with a resounding thud. He strode purposefully towards the stairs, taking two at a time as if propelled by an inner force.

Amber held on tight, her nails digging into Trent's shoulders as she braced herself for what was to come. The anticipation was almost unbearable every nerve ending tingling with excitement and need.

Finally, they reached the master bedroom.

Trent kicked the door shut behind them with a resounding thud, effectively trapping them in his realm of desire. He set Amber down on her feet but didn't give her a chance to catch her breath before he was on her again, hands roaming over every inch of exposed skin.

His lips found the sensitive column of her throat, nipping and sucking at the delicate flesh as he worked to pull her dress over her head. The cool air hit Amber's bare breasts as Trent turned his attention to her nipples already tightened into peaks.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Trent groaned against her skin, his voice rough with lust. He palmed one breast roughly, thumb flicking over the nipple while his mouth closed around its twin in a hot suction that drew a gasp from Amber's lips.

She threaded trembling fingers through his hair, tugging lightly as she arched into him.

Amber's moan echoed through the room as Trent lavished attention on her breasts, his touch setting her nerve endings ablaze. She couldn't get enough of him, every brush of skin against skin sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her veins.

With a low growl, Trent released Amber's breast and spun her around to face the bed. He pushed her down onto the plush mattress, following close behind to cover her body with his own.

"Mine," he declared possessively, claiming Amber's mouth in a fierce kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. His tongue delved deep, tangling with hers in a dance as old as time itself.

As they kissed, Trent's hands roamed over Amber's curves, mapping every dip and swell. He palmed her ass cheeks greedily before sliding lower to tease at the wet heat between her thighs.

Trent broke their kiss long enough to yank off his sweater and toss it aside.

Trent's eyes gleamed with a mix of hunger and adoration as he took in the sight of Amber sprawled out on his bed, her dress pooled around her waist and breasts exposed to his hungry gaze.

He shed his trousers quickly, revealing his impressive erection straining against his boxer briefs. With a low growl, Trent hooked a finger into the waistband and pulled them down just enough to free himself. His thick cock sprang forth, already leaking precum in anticipation.

“Come here,” he commanded his voice a low rumble that emanated pure desire.

Amber’s heart raced at the sight of him, his body a sculpted testament to masculine power. Taking Trent’s hand as she guided her off of his bed, looked up into his eyes before getting on her knees before him, her mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock. 

Trent's head fell back as Amber worked his cock with skilled enthusiasm, each stroke of her tongue sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body. He could feel himself growing harder and thicker in her mouth, the pressure building at the base of his spine.

"Fuck, Amber," he ground out between gritted teeth, his fingers tightening in her hair his hips snapped forward and he began fucking her throat. 

Trent's grip on Amber's hair tightened as he lost himself in the pleasure of her talented mouth. "That's it, take it all," he groaned, his hips pumping forward to drive more of his thick cock past her lips.

Amber gagged around the invasion, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she struggled to accommodate Trent's girth. But she didn't pull away, instead revelling in the dominant display of power he was exerting over her. It only served to heighten her arousal, the wetness dripping down her thighs as she sucked and slurped, determined to please him completely.

As his pleasure built, Trent's thrusts grew erratic, his balls tightening with impending release. With a guttural roar, he pulled free from Amber's mouth, his cock pulsing angrily in the chill air. "Look how fucking messy you are," he groaned. 

Saliva dripped from her chin, beading and meandering over her breasts and stomach she gazed up at Trent through slightly reddened, tear-filled eyes. 

Amber slowly licked her lips, savouring the taste of Trent's arousal on her tongue. She gazed up at him with a sultry smile, her eyes dark with lust and adoration.

"Do you like me like this?" she purred, her breath hitching as she pressed the tip of her fingers against her clit. 

Trent's eyes flashed with a mix of desire and possessiveness as he watched Amber kneel before him, her fingers teasing at her clit. The sight sent a jolt of pure lust through his veins. 

“Get back on the bed, now.” His command was low and rough, brooking no argument. As Amber complied, crawling onto the plush mattress with an eager smile playing on her lips, Trent climbed up to loom over her.

“You like being told what to do, don't you?” he asked in carnal amusement. 

He reached down to cup her face in one large hand, thumb stroking across her lower lip before pushing into her mouth. 

Amber moaned around Trent's thumb, her eyes locked on his as she sucked it into her mouth. She released it with a pop and gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes, her expression one of pure wanton desire.

"Please... I need you inside me," Amber pleaded breathlessly, reaching down to spread herself open for him.

Trent groaned at the sight of Amber's glistening pussy, swollen and ready for him. He positioned himself between her thighs, the head of his cock nudging against her entrance teasingly.

"You're so wet for me," he rasped, rubbing the tip back and forth along her slick folds before finally sinking into the hilt with a guttural moan.

Amber cried out at the sudden intrusion, arching off the bed as Trent filled her. Her inner walls clench around his thick length hungrily.

"Yes! Fuck... just like that!" she gasped into his ear, her teeth closing around the skin behind it as she gave herself over to him completely.

Amber let out an animalistic moan as she tilted her hips to meet Trent’s thrusts, her mouth falling open as their eyes met. 

Trent groaned as Amber's wet heat enveloped him, her body welcoming him in like a vice. He set a relentless pace, pounding into her with primal intensity, chasing the edge of release. "You feel incredible," he snarled, sweat beading on his forehead as he drove into her again and again.

Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Trent lifted Amber from the mattress, holding her body in his arms as he bounced her up and down on his cock.

The look of helpless submission in Amber’s eyes sent a chill down Trent's spine, her whiny breaths fanning out over him as he rolled his hips into her. 

Trent's eyes darkened with lust as he held Amber aloft, her body bouncing on his cock in a lewd display of dominance and pleasure. He gripped her thighs tighter, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he slammed up into her once more.

"Look how good you're taking me," he growled, his voice low and gravelly. "You were made for this... your pussy was made for my cock."

Amber whimpered at the filthy words, her nails raking down Trent's back as she met each thrust with a desperate clench of her inner walls around him. The coil of tension within her built to an almost unbearable pitch.

"Yes! Don't stop!" she pleaded breathlessly, tossing her head back against his chest. "I'm so close..."

With a snarl of triumph, Trent angled himself deeper inside Amber, grinding against that sweet spot that sent sparks flying through her veins.

Amber's eyes went wide in awe as she came hard, her toes curling as she squirted on Trent, her essence dripping from them to his sheets below staining the grey an even deeper shade. 

She clung to Trent as he fucked her through her orgasm. Murruring the nastiest comments into her ear as he did. 

Trent slowed his pace, still buried deep inside Amber as her orgasm rode through her. He could feel every spasm of her inner walls around him, milking his cock in a way that made his vision blur.

"Fuck, you're incredible," he breathed against the shell of her ear, nuzzling into the curve of it and savouring the scent of their combined arousal.

With a low grunt, Trent pulled out slowly, allowing Amber's body to sink back onto the bed with a soft thud. He watched as she lay there panting and trembling in the aftermath of climax, her pussy still twitching sporadically from the aftershocks.

"You okay?" he asked gruffly, concern etched across his face despite the lingering lust in his eyes.

Amber nodded weakly but couldn't manage more than a gasp when Trent climbed over the top of her once again.

Trent's eyes roamed over Amber's flushed face, drinking in the sight of her sated and breathless. He reached out to brush a strand of sweat-dampened hair from her forehead, his touch gentle despite the urgency still thrumming through him.

"I need you again," he confessed hoarsely, his cock already starting to harden against her thigh. "I can't get enough of you."

A soft moan escaped Amber's lips at Trent's words, her body instinctively arching up into his as if seeking more contact. She wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers running through his low tapered curls.

"Please... have me," she whispered urgently, nibbling on Trent's lower lip before sucking it into her mouth for a deep kiss.

With a low growl, Trent captured Amber's mouth once more, plunging his tongue inside to tangle with hers in a sensual dance that left them both breathless.

Pulling away from her mouth, Trent rolled Amber onto her stomach before grabbing a pillow and pushing it beneath her hips. 

Trent's hands roamed over Amber's curves, his fingers skimming along the swell of her hips and thighs. He positioned himself behind her, the head of his cock nudging at her entrance.

"You ready for this?" he asked gruffly, his voice thick with desire. "I'm going to fuck you hard from behind."

Amber moaned in anticipation, pushing back against him invitingly. "Yes... please... I need it so bad."

Trent groaned at the sensation of Amber's warm flesh pressing against him. With a low growl, he thrust forward in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt inside her.

"Oh fuck!" Amber cried out at the sudden invasion, her body arching up off the bed as Trent filled her. "You're so deep!"

"Yeah?" Trent panted into her ear as he began to move within her. "You like that?”

Trent's hands gripped Amber's hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh as he pulled out slowly before slamming back in with a grunt. He set a punishing pace, each thrust hitting that sweet spot inside her that made Amber see stars. 

"Take it all," he growled against the nape of her neck, his hot breath fanning over her skin. "Every inch... you were made for this. You were made for me.” 

Amber’s breath hitched at Trent’s words, her eyes brimming with tears that had nothing to do with any sexual pleasure and everything to do with a sobering fact. 

The minute she left him, the minute she returned to London. She returned to being an option to a man that didn’t want commitment. 

[macybeckham7]

Confetti

part two

‘Why are you so nervous?’ Trent laughs as he could sense how nervous YN was in the passenger seat. ‘They’ll be so excited to see you’ he says.

As he pulls up infront of the Alexander Arnold’s household, the curtain moves and by the time they climb out and YN has a bouquet of flowers they were all running through the door.

‘Hello beautiful girl!’ Dianne beams, and pulling you into a tight hug. Her hands holding your face as she beams at you. Michael telling his wife to stop hogging you and hugging you.

You fell in love with the whole family, you absolutely adored them. So when you broke up with Trent, you weren’t just missing a boy you adored but also a safety blanket that the family provided.

‘How are you feeling about the tour?’ Michael asks.

‘Nervous’ you giggle. ‘We haven’t toured since 2020’ you explain.

Trent reaches for your hand. ‘It’ll be like riding a bike, you don’t forget how to do it’

‘And if you forget a move, just look to the first row for Marcel, he knows all the dances’ Tyler mocks, pulling a goofy face at the youngest brother.

The table erupt in laughter as Marcel looks down at his plate of food.

‘Does this mean you two have found each other again?’ Dianne asks as she packs you both off with leftovers.

You look over at Trent. You haven’t really spoke about it. You have been living with each other the past month, you have been going to Liverpool matches. Despite trying to keep in low-key you always kept getting spotted. Trent even came to a few Little Mix meetings. He came to the whole Madame Tussaud’s fitting and was so gassed about it all. Neither of you have brought up the topic of ‘what are we’ just enjoying being around each other.

‘Thank you for dinner’ you smile. You wave everyone goodbye as Trent backs out. ‘Told you they’ll be happy to see you, nothing could go as bad as the actual first meeting’ he says sticking his tongue out.

You let out a groan and hide your face in your hands at that awkward situation.

….

‘I’ll stand in for her’ Jordan runs over to the three girls who was just about to go from the top. He holds his water bottle as a microphone, and as soon as the music starts he puts on his best YN.

‘This is a shout out to my ex’ he sings. Heard he in love with some other chick’ he gives off a little scoff, entertaining everyone. ‘Yeah, yeah, that hurt me, I'll admit. Forget that boy, I'm over it’

You walk into the studio and watches as he dances around with Jade.

‘More sass’ Perrie laughs, and shows him how you do the move with him coping.

‘I hate you all’ you mock which makes everyone laugh. ‘Jords you can take my spot if you really wanna, I’ll be in Rizzle Kicks and give the fans what they want with a comeback’ you smile.

Later on you were all in the studio with the band to do the rock version of Women Like Me. You all losing your minds at how good it sounds, you all showing off your vocals and rocking out to the guitar. You all jump around in a huddle with excitement.

‘We good to put that in the set list then?’ Leigh asks with us nodding. The pressure of putting all the bangers into list and also adding fan favourites too. Leigh and Jade have been trying to fight to get Joan Of Arc in there but it hasn’t been successful yet.

‘I can’t have them three songs together because I won’t be able to get through them’ Jade says as we try to find the best arrangement.

After a while, everyone was happy with the set list. YN reached out for the phone, you let out a giggle reading a text from Trent which got the attention from Leigh.

‘What is going on with you and lover boy?’ she asks with a smirk.

They have all been a fan of Trent. They always saying he was your nicest ex.

‘Nothing’

Perrie scoffs. ‘That’s not what Alex has been saying’. Thought Trent would play in coy. ‘Trent has been going into training with loads of hickeys’

Jade and Leigh both squeal. ‘You little minx’ They pounce making them lay over you.

‘I don’t want to be next to your room, I remember how loud the two of you can be’ Perrie mocks with Jade mimicking your moans, with the three of them bursting in tears of laughter.

…..

Last night you and Perrie went to Anfield to support the boys, you being complete hooligans celebrating the goals and shouting at the ref, chanting with the fans, and just going through the rollercoaster with them. After the game you all went to the pitch and was having a little kickabout. The video of you and Perrie rugby tackling each other and scoring and doing different celebrations. You and Trent playing with Axel and just being the maniacs everyone knew you were.

‘I have missed you in my jersey’ Trent smirks as you give him a little spin. He gave it to you after the game after he scored and did a dance which was the last thing you told him to do the next time he scored (before you broke up). You laughing when you saw him and telling him that you couldn’t believe it that he remembered.

…..

You were just staring at your phone as you watched the 12 digit number light up the screen. You had deleted the number but you had memorised the number by heart, but you didn’t have the courage to accepting it and listening to what they had to say. You had just come out of a meeting about your future after Little Mix. You were on the way home to start packing for tour life, which was definitely going to be different from the last. You would come off the stage, get on the tour bus back to the hotel and then hit the tour. Dance on the dance floors, your aching feet was no longer achey. We have already decided a movie and desserts was the best way to do it now.

You climb onto the tour bus, hugging all the Since September boys, happy to see them all again. You adored them on Little Mix: The Search and you couldn’t wait for them to support you and the girls. You sat beside Jade who was in a Fifa game with one of the boys. You start jamming out on the guitar as you travel up the Motorway on the way to Belfast.

‘Can you remember your first tour?’ Jacob asks.

The girls look at each other all nodding and giggling.

‘When we wore our names on our shirts’ Leigh laughs.

‘And we had done this campaign with a hair dye company and we all had really bad hair styles’ Perrie laughs with Jade sassing back ‘Talk for yourself’.

[sholiofic]

For my h/c bingo “desecration” square

--

So here was a thing Sam hadn't known until he looked it up: Novi Grad had a sister city in the U.S.

Sam was a little unclear on how exactly the whole concept of sister cities worked—international harmony, blah blah. New Orleans had a bunch, including Caracas and Liverpool. 

Novi Grad's sister city was a place called Ogden, Iowa.

Sam visited it with no real expectations of finding anything he didn't expect to find in Iowa. And he didn't. It was a little town off the freeway. There was a freeway box-store plaza with a Staples and a Chick Fil A, and a winding road leading into a little downtown with small turn-of-the-past-century brick buildings, dominated by antique stores and a pizza place.

And there was a small park. Sam pulled into one of the handful of parking spaces and got out.

The air was heavy and damp, with cicadas shirring in the trees. He walked into the little circle of mowed grass and park benches, and looked up at a near replica of the Eastern European Sokovian monument.

It was a little cheaper, he guessed, made mostly of concrete, and somewhat smaller. But it looked a lot like it. There were some benches around it, and a few bits of trash scattered around. Sam moved to pick them up. There was a brass plaque in front of the monument. He went and looked.

Pretty basic stuff, nice and soft. A few lines about the civil wars in Sokovia, a little about the tearjerker of Novi Grad's destruction, and a brief tribute to the Sokovian dead. It was nice, and Sam thought that visitors to the park might learn a little, but not a lot. 

He sat on a bench for a while and looked at the memorial. There were some kids playing on the playground equipment in a different part of the park, and at one point a dog walker went through, giving him a smile. As midday rode into afternoon, an ice cream vendor set up on the edge of the square, and Sam bought a creamsicle and walked back to his car.

It was a peaceful place. He didn't know what any Sokovian would think of it. He didn't know if it was a respectful tribute to the dead, or just some kind of middle-American cashing in on the emotional cachet of feeling good about the deaths of people in a far-away place. No one from Sokovia would ever come here for catharsis or healing. The people of the town probably didn't attach much meaning to it. 

But he thought, perhaps, it had been sincerely meant.

*

He forgot about it for a while, and then came back to find it vandalized.

It was a shock to the system, the swoops of colorful, profane graffiti and the interpretive sign kicked over.

Sam started picking things up.

"Hooligans," said an angry female voice. He looked around to see a white woman, about fifteen or twenty years older than he was, struggling to lift the interpretive sign back into place. She had short silver hair with a bright blue stripe down the side.

Sam went to help her. 

"Thanks," she said, sweeping her hair out of the way. She was wearing overalls with a cluster of pins on the shoulder, mostly punk ones from the '80s. Sam felt vaguely old. "I'm Jen. You look kinda familiar."

"I have one of those faces." He turned back to the monument before she could make the Captain American connection, which he still didn't like. "Do you have anything to wash this off?"

It turned out that Jen had come with a bucket of soapy water. They scrubbed at the monument, and he learned that Jen was the local librarian, and was married (to a guy; Sam found this initially surprising and firmly squashed it) with three kids.

"Do you know there's a monument like this in Romania?" Jen asked while they scrubbed at it.

"It's formerly Sokovia," Sam said. "Yeah, I've seen pictures."

"I think I'd like to go there," Jen said. "My great-grandmother was Sokovian, you know."

"Really?" Sam said. "That's neat." He was thinking how absolutely unimpressed and baffled Zemo or Wanda would've been at that statement. But he got it, why it mattered to her. There was a kind of feeling about this that you didn't quite get if your last cultural ancestors back into your cultural heritage were your parents. 

"There's a Sokovian expat community in town," Jen said. "We have a couple of really nice Sokovian restaurants, more than you'd think for a town our size. You should get lunch at the South Bend, it's really good."

"I will," Sam said. 

And he thought that he ought to visit the Sokovian memorial that Bucky had been to in Europe. He hadn't ever been there, not to the original one.

He did get lunch at South Bend and it was good, Jen was right. 

[scotianostra]

November 6th 1919 saw the birth of the comedian and actor Chic Murray.

Charles Thomas McKinnon Murray was born in Greenock on the south bank of the River Clyde. After leaving school at the age of 14, he started work as an apprentice engineer in Kincaids Shipyard in Greenock in 1934. Meanwhile he was using his talents as an entertainer with amateur groups such as “The Whinhillbillies” and “Chic and His Chicks”.

Chic married Maidie Dickson and then formed a successful double act with her, their mixture of jokes and songs going down well with theatre audiences and, eventually, on television. Billed as “Maidie and Murray” or the “The Tall Droll with the Small Doll”

Chic subsequently forged a successful solo career, ending up with a BBC Scotland series called “Chic’s Chat”. He also acted in films such as Casino Royale, and appeared as the headmaster in the 1980 Scottish film, Gregory’s Girl. In 1984 he played the Liverpool Football Club manager Bill Shankly in the musical play You’ll Never Walk Alone. 

Chic Murray died in Edinburgh in 1985 at the age of sixty-five. He is widely regarded to have been one of the most influential Scottish comedians of the 20th Century.

Here are some of the best examples of his razor-sharp jokes and one-liners.

My father was a simple man; my mother was a simple woman; you see the result standing in front of you, a simpleton.

It’s a small world, but I wouldn’t want to have to paint it.

After I told my wife that black underwear turned me on, she didn't wash my Y-fronts for a month.

She had been married so often she bought a drip-dry wedding dress.

We were so poor; the ultimate luxury in our house at the time was ashtrays without advertisements.

The police stopped me when I was out in my car. They told me it was a spot check. I admitted to two pimples and a boil.

I met this cowboy with a brown paper hat, paper waistcoat and paper trousers. He was wanted for rustling.

I dreamt I was forced to eat 25lb of marshmallows. When I woke up, my pillow was missing.

A Scot is a man who keeps the Sabbath, and everything else he can lay his hands on.

If something’s neither here nor there, where the hell is it?

If it weren’t for marriage, husband and wives would have to fight with strangers.

It was raining cats and dogs, and I fell in a poodle.

I felt as out of place as a left-handed violinist in a crowded string section.

[whileiamdying]

Miles at The Fillmore: Miles Davis 1970: The Bootleg Series Vol. 3

The '60s are usually characterized by either the peace movement or Sex; Drugs and Rock 'n' Roll. But there was a darker side. In 1963. the '60s the era, not the decade) began in earnest with the assassination of Medgar Evers and Governor George Wallace's attempt to block the entrance of two black students at the University of Alabama in June, the Civil Rights March On Washington in August, the church bombing in Birmingham which killed four children in September and the assassination of President Kennedy in November.

By 1970, the '60s showed no sign of slowing down. The White House and the F.B.I. were headed up by paranoid psychotics who after a full day of abusing power found time to work on their enemies lists. The Civil Rights Act had been law long enough to prove that one cannot legislate racism away. The debacle in Vietnam continued to claim a tragic number of American and Vietnamese lives. In May, four college students were murdered on the Kent State campus by the Ohio National Guard for walking by a peace demonstration. Amid all this, there was Sex, Drugs and Rock 'n' Roll. The Youth Culture continued to flourish with new drugs to try, new partners to bed and new bands to check out. Rock & Roll grew up. Gone were the Liverpool pop groups that thrilled 13-year-old girls; Innovative bands like the Jimi Hendrix Experience, Cream, Jefferson Airplane and Sly & The Family Stone were emerging. This music organically gave birth to free form (underground FM) radio, which became widespread and was contributing to the eclectic tastes of the baby boomers coming of age. All kinds of jazz and blues were being woven into the mix by music junkies programming their own shows.

It was in this world that Miles Davis began shifting the center of gravity in his own music in 1968. For the next two years, his music would undergo radical changes, often on a monthly basis. Because only a small percentage of the music he recorded during those years was issued in a timely fashion, the public only heard the music in quantum leaps from "Mademoiselle Mabry" to "In A Silent Way* to "Bitches Brew" Even Miles opening theme "Directions" which he played every night in 1969-71 and which he recorded at a November 27 1968 session (drummer Jack DeJohnette's first with Miles) wasn't issued until some 12 years later! lan Carr, in his excellent 1984 tome Miles Davis: A Biography, wrote, "From August 1969 to August 1970, Miles had recorded enough material for two live double albums (the Fillmores), a studio double-album (Bitches Brew), studio single album (Jack Johnson), three sides of another studio double album (Big Fun), and four tracks from another double-abum (Live-Evin, It had been the most productive year of his career" in fact, hours of unreleased music from this period have emerged slowly since Carr wrote that 30 years ago.

On March 6 and 7. 1970. Miles' sextet (with Wayne Shorter, Chick Corea, Dave Holland, Jack DeJohnette and percussionist Airto Moreira recently added as the sixth member) would take the stage of the Fillmore East on Second Avenue and 6th Street in New York's East Village. Miles was booked at Clive Davis' urging in anticipation of the release of Miles' Bitches Brew, which pretty much scared the hell out of everybody at Columbia Records with its 20-minute tracks and dense, shifting textures Clive had witnessed the strong connection between rock artists and the Youth Culture at the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967. He thought that older artists: careers could be jumpstarted if they were made relevant to the underground rock scene. The resurgence of Johnny Cash and Miles Davis made him a prophet.

Both Fillmore (East and West) usually had three acts on each show. These March dates also featured Neil Young & Crazy Horse and the Steve Miller Band. If this sounds like an unlikely bill, bear in mind that Young and Miller were as different from each other as each was from Davis. Bill Graham liked pairing diverse acts and incorporating jazz artists into the mix. At the Fillmore West, he had put Rahsaan Roland Kirk on the same bill with Led Zeppelin and even more outrageously, Cecil Taylor opened for The Yardbirds. Charles Lloyd's quartet had played there a number of times and even made a live album at the venue.

Rock palaces had sprung up around the country with great frequency in 1967-68. Most were converted warehouses or old banks or movie theaters that could be easily gutted and outfitted with a stage a sound system, bathrooms, DayGlo paint and a large floor where American youth were content to stand, nurture their buzz and listen to live music. The Fillmore East, however, was unique. It was built in 1925-26, when the Lower East Side was a low-income Jewish neighborhood, as a Yiddish theater. It was called the Commodore Theater and later was converted by Loew's into a movie theater. By the time Bill Graham bought the venue, it had returned to live performances as the Village Theater, where a series of jazz concerts that included John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman and Albert Adler had been produced in December 1966. It's hard to imagine with such a bustling, creative rock scene, but before Bill Graham opened the Fillmore East on March 8, 1968, New York City had just a few cramped rock clubs like Café Au Go-Go, Upstairs at Max's Kansas City and Steve Paul's The Scene. Bill wisely kept the seats, the lobby and marquee as he found them. The theater's capacity was almost 2700, but it felt more intimate thanks to the interior's warm colors, simple décor and straight-forward seating design. The stage was big and high with a large backstage area. Where most rock palaces had gaudy, psychedelic murals painted on the walls, Graham kept the theater's look untouched and hired Josh White to fashion a projected light show above the musicians on stage.

Josh told me recently "The acts were contractually committed to perform in front of The Joshua Light Show. Remember at the time there was no other stage production. It hadn't been developed yet. We provided an exciting, appropriate background, which matched and complemented the music and enhanced the viewing experience. After the Fillmore found its audience, Bill knew he could sell out the weekend. This empowered him to meddle with acts less known to the audience. Bill loved his music, especially jazz and Latin. We were regulars on the bill; we did a light show for whomever he booked. We were respectful and tried to find a visual groove that worked with the artist. It was the early days of mobile eight track recording. The Fillmore had proven to be a good, friendly house to get a sharp live mix with a hot audience

When the Fillmore closed, Josh would become a television director, working on, among other things, the revived *Mickey Mouse Club" for Disney. The Fillmore East was a comfortable place for performers and patrons alike. It was a great place to hang out, and the staff, headed up by Bill's second-in-command Kip Cohen and publicist Pat Luce, were all warm, friendly and helpful. Sometimes I had to run next door to Ratner's Kosher Dairy Restaurant to get abused by a cranky old waiter just to remind myself that I was in New York.

Miles was reminded that he was in New York a few days before the March gig when he was arrested for the crime of being black and owning a red Ferrari (he was later exonerated of the charges). The band sounded great on what were Wayne Shorter's final nights with the group. Columbia recorded it but nothing was done with the music until the second night's sets were issued in 2001 as Miles Live At The Fillmore East (March 7, 1970). Most likely it was the group's volume which caught the recording engineers off guard and led to considerable distortion on the masters that derailed release rather than the quality of the music. Backstage, I remember both Neil Young and Steve Miller being impressed about being on the same bill with Miles Davis. Young even expressed interest to me in having a feature story in Down Beat (1 had done pieces on Jim Morrison and Buddy Guy among others in that magazine).

Vince Aletti covered the gig in the April 16, 1970 issue of Rolling Stone, concentrating on Miles group and performance at the expense of Young and Miller. "Miles Davis' first appearance at the Fillmore East…was a welcome chance to hear the Real Thing in a hall that's given shelter to so much rock with jazz pretensions," he wrote. "He came out looking and sounding tight and steely-hard, knees bent and horn raised, like a heavy spring under tension."

It's been written that most of the audience milled around in the lobby when Miles played. I was there and I don't remember that to be the case. The Fillmore East audience was always open and appreciative. Certainly some abandoned their seats when Miles took the stage, but others did so when Neil Young took the stage, It was a revolving audience but always a respectful one.

Bill Graham would most often hang out in the front office during the shows so don't remember witnessing Bill and Miles interact. But I always thought of them as very similar personalities. Each was a self-made success with a wry sense of humor and warm, gracious personality that could go ballistic in a nanosecond if he sensed bullshit, lack of respect or an indignity.

Miles recorded the music for Jack Johnson on April 7 and immediately left for San Francisco. From April 9-12 the Miles Davis sextet with Steve Grossman now in the saxophone chair played the Fillmore West with the Grateful Dead and Stone The Crows. The second night was recorded professionally by Columbia. but released only on CBS Sony in Japan in 1973 as Black Beauty. It was finally issued in the U.S. in 1997 as a two-CD set. Three previously unreleased tunes from the third night recorded by the Fillmore's sound system are included in this set.

Meanwhile, the unique and quizzical Bitches Brew was released that same month. Wisely, Columbia put out an edited single of "Miles Runs The Voodoo Down" and "Spanish Key" to be radio friendly. But the big exposure on radio came not from the jazz stations, which were dwindling at the time, but from underground FM rock formats. The coverage in Rolling Stone and appearances at the Fillmores were paying off instantly. The album created controversy among jazz fans, but it got a 5-star review in Down Beat. It would go on to become Miles' first gold album.

Miles Davis came back to the Fillmore East on June 17-20, this time with Keith Jarrett on organ as the seventh added member. Although Miles had favored recording with three keyboardists in the studio from late 1968 to early 1970, this was his first working band to feature two keyboards. He shared the bill with label-mate Laura Nyro who considered herself one of his biggest fans (she had sent flowers to his dressing room on the occasion of his first appearance there). Columbia Records was once again recording the gig. but this time producer Teo Macero and engineer Stan Tonkel were prepared for the band's rock 'n' roll volume, using safer micing techniques and recording on an eight-track rather than a four-track tape machine, giving them greater control. Having been exposed to Bitches Brew, the Fillmore audiences on these nights were fully engaged and enthusiastic.

The usually conservative John S Wilson wrote in the June 19, 1970 New York Times, "The group that Mr. Davis is leading at Fillmore East is a compromise between his old quintet and his recording group on Wednesday evening, this new combination seemed to give him the best elements of the smaller and larger groups the expansive, atmospheric projection of the large recording group and the drive and bite of the old quintet. Mr. Davis was a commanding figure as he blew typically crisp, sputtering phrases, mixed with sudden, keen leaps over a rumble of exotic rhythmic patterns.

This time the material did come out à mere four months later as double album, Miles Davis At Fillmore Teo edited each night from 45 or 50 minutes down to 20-minute medleys. The double album received mostly favorable reviews in the jazz, rock and trade press. The reviewer for Variety wrote, "the only label that can be placed on this program is that it's Miles Davis music."

Clearly Miles was happy about his group and the gig. In a September 3 1970 feature in Down Beat, he previews the album for Dan Morgenstern and says, "Did you hear what Keith was playing behind me? He's a bitch. Chick, too our music changes every month. We extend each other's ideas. I may start a phrase and not complete it because I hear some thing else behind me that takes me to a different place. It keeps going further."

In August, Gary Bartz replaced Steve Grossman and the band continued to appear in front of rock audiences, touring with Santana (the August 18 Tanglewood performance was recorded and issued on the Bitches Brew 40th Anniversary Collector's Edition in 2010). On August 29, the Davis group appeared at the Isle Of Wight rock festival: the set was issued in fragmentary form at the time but released in full on the massive Miles Davis: The Complete Columbia Albums Collection in 2009 and Bitches Brew Live in 2011.

Miles returned to the Fillmore West from October 15-18 with Leon Russell and Sea Train and again on May 6-9, 1971 with the Elvin Bishop Group and Mandrill. He also played The Electric Factory in Philadelphia on November 15, 1970. The Electric Factory was one of the typical rock clubs with no seats. The audience would stand and sometimes dance when the bands played. But on this night, most of the audience sat cross-legged on the floor, mesmerized by the music.

Rock palaces were soon closing down in many cities and Miles returned to bookings at the larger jazz clubs like Washington, DC’s The Cellar Door and concert halls. But the Fillmore gigs had a lasting effect on Miles' career. I was at his Beacon Theatre concerts on Manhattan's Upper West Side on July 20 and 21, 1971 and his audience make-up was decidedly younger than it had been just two years earlier. On June 27, less than a month earlier, as a disc jockey on WPLJ, I was part of the live broadcast of the memorable final night of the Fillmore East, which ended at 5:30 in the morning.

By 1972, underground FM stations were becoming formatted and General William Westmoreland retired unscathed. Two years later, a busted and humiliated Richard Nixon crawled out of Washington. In 1975, the United States retreated from Vietnam none the wiser. and Miles Davis stopped making music for 5 years. The '6Os (the era, not the decade) were officially dead.

Michael Cracuna

— January 2014