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loveemagicpeace · 5 months ago

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Pluto in houses & your transformation

Pluto's workings seem to represent the beginning of things and the end of things; the beginning and end of a chapter in our lives; the beginning and end of our lives.

The symbolic psychological meanings of Pluto, when exalted in a sign, house, or aspect, include transformation, transmutation, rejuvenation, revival, regeneration, exaltation, and transition. The symbolic psychological meanings of Pluto, when disabled in a sign, house, or aspect, include death, decay, destruction, carelessness, the struggle for existence, fanaticism, sensuality, adventurism, and some black magic as opposed to Saturn's ceremonial magic. The symbolic sociological meanings of Pluto include sorcerers, witches, and vampires, and people who project charisma to crowds of people, such as actors, politicians, public speakers, and propagandists. The symbolic biological meanings of Pluto include the collective consciousness, the regenerative forces of the body, the creative forces that give life. Some astrologers consider Pluto to be the ruler of the pineal gland.

Pluto in 1st house -It shows strength, courage, transformation. You will experience a lot of transformation in your life, which will have a very emotional impact on you and your personality. Your personality and appearance can change whenever you lose something. You will have to let go of many things in your life and you may struggle a lot with your ego. The person may have a robust constitution, often with an ability to recover quickly from illness or stress. However, due to Pluto's deep and transformative influence, the individual may also experience periods of dramatic shiftsin their health or energy levels. Pluto can indicate susceptibility to injuries or health challenges related to the head (such as migraines, head injuries, or mental strain) and the bones (particularly the spine or joints). Early experiences may have involved control issues or feeling the need to assert personal power in some way. This could involve transformative sexual experiences or relationships that allow the individual to explore deeper emotional or psychological themes, whether through travel or meeting new people who push them out of their comfort zone.

Pluto in 2nd house- You will experience a lot of transformation through money, material things. Your inner feelings can be very strong and you can experience your surroundings very strongly. Your memory can be good but things leave a more emotional impression on you than a mental one. With memories tied to physical objects, family heirlooms, or places of significance. In some cases, the person may collect things out of emotional need or as a way to exert control over their environment.It will rarely happen that you will borrow money from others, you also do not talk much about it and can be very private when it comes to your finances. You can find comfort in intimacy or a strong emotional connection. You are a person who gives a lot but if you lose what you have given or if someone betrays you, it is difficult to trust again. The person may receive large inheritances that radically change their life, but the process might come with deep psychological challenges or conflicts regarding the use or management of that wealth.

Pluto in 3rd house-You can have a strong connection with your siblings or you can be very estranged from them. Here you can have siblings who can be jealous of you or are more intense, possessive. Your travels can be very transformative and can completely change the way you view the world, you can live away from your family for a long time. At some point in your life you may have to separate from your siblings due to moving, which can be very difficult for you. Siblings usually live somewhere far away. You have very strong opinions and like to explore topics that are deeper. Moving away from home is usually transformative and can also bring you difficult goodbyes. Many times moving can be emotional.

Pluto in 4th house- The relationship with your mother can be intense and your mother can have a big impact on you and your development. You may have a mother who is more possessive and controlling. Your mother may also have psychological problems at some point and you may be by her side a lot. The home may be in a darker neighborhood or somewhere more secluded, lonely or private. Your childhood and home environment may have been deeply transformative, possibly marked by power struggles, secrets, or emotional upheavals. There could be a dominant or controlling parent, or you may have felt like you had to protect yourself emotionally. Your family may have strong karmic ties, and you could feel a sense of duty to break generational patterns.

Pluto in 5th house- Your love life is anything but casual. Relationships can be obsessive, passionate, or transformative. You attract powerful or intense partners and might go through major changes in your romantic experiences. You express yourself with depth and intensity. Your art or creativity could have a dark, mysterious, or taboo element. If you have children, they could be a major source of transformation in your life. There may be power struggles or deep karmic connections.You might be drawn to high-risk, high-reward situations, whether in love, creativity, or even gambling. Passion is all or nothing. Pluto intensifies the need to gamble with life’s pleasures. There’s a strong urge for risk-taking, and gambling can become an outlet for this desire. The intense nature of Pluto could also manifest in gambling as an obsessive or addictive behavior.

Pluto in 6th house- Your routines are very strict and planned. You like to stick to a certain routine. You can become obsessed with your body or the way it looks and have a need to constantly change your body. You can have pets that change your life and have a strong influence on you. The death of a pet can be very painful and emotionally transformative. You tend to have a strong attachment to animals and are reluctant to trade one animal for another if you lose it. Work can change.Pluto in the 6th may indicate that marriage brings responsibilities, obligations, or power struggles that directly affect work and daily life. A partner might have control over work choices, either through direct influence (e.g., financial dependence) or indirectly (e.g., responsibilities in the marriage limiting career flexibility). If Pluto is negatively aspected, marriage could bring health issues due to stress, emotional burdens, or even legal restrictions related to work and location.Avoid toxic work environments.

Pluto in 7th house- Marriage can be very transformative for you and bring about many changes. You usually have a partner who can have a great influence on you and you can learn a lot and transform emotionally through the relationship. The end of a relationship can be very painful and transformative for you, you can become a different person after that. The partner is usually intense, strong, very protective, can also be jealous,powerful, dominant, mysterious, or deeply transformative in some way. If connected to the 6th house or 12th house, health problems could be deep-rooted, chronic, or related to psychological/emotional trauma. The person may experience conflicts with doctors, hospitals, or medical treatments, needing to take control of their own healing process. The father may experience power struggles, hidden conflicts, or legal issues in later years. Mother may remarry or go through an intense personal transformation due to relationships in later years.

Pluto in 8th house-Here is a pluto in your house, which means it is more exposed to strong changes that will change your life. Pluto here can bring large inheritances, but often through dramatic or intense circumstances (family conflicts, legal battles, hidden assets). This placement naturally enhances psychic abilities, astral projection, and connections to the spirit world. Pluto in the 8th often makes a person fascinated with the occult, life after death, and deep esoteric knowledge. The native might deal with banking, stocks, loans, insurance, or business partnerships where power dynamics play a key role. Pluto here suggests that an aunt or uncle of the same sex may have intense experiences while traveling abroad, possibly involving financial, legal, or spiritual transformations. Many people with this placement experience near-death experiences (NDEs), strong premonitions about death, or a natural understanding of life’s transitions.

Pluto in 9th house- show long journeys to places that are more realistic, dark, and perhaps even dangerous. You may be drawn to esoteric knowledge, secret teachings, hidden wisdom, or alternative education paths. You might start with one field and completely change direction due to a life-altering event. You may experience culture shock, karmic encounters, or major transformations in a foreign land. You may experience a spiritual crisis that forces you to question everything you once believed. The person may gain money, power, or recognition through psychic work, astrology, or spiritual guidance. The parent of the opposite sex (father in a female’s chart, mother in a male’s chart) may experience major health crises, surgeries, or hidden illnesses. This parent might be a powerful influence in the native’s spiritual or philosophical development. Love relationships may involve people from different cultures, long-distance relationships, or karmic soul connections.

Pluto in 10th house- Maybe you always felt like your father had control over you or some kind of pressure from him. Government figures or other authoritative persons may be significant throughout the native’s life, either as mentors, power figures, or adversaries. There can be karma to resolve with authority figures, especially in the professional realm. Fame may come through overcoming significant challenges or gaining recognition for powerful work, leadership, or radical innovations. There may be ego challenges or times when the native’s pride and personal identity are tested by external forces(bosses, the government, public opinion). The death of the spouse could involve secrets, power struggles, or unresolved issues that require deep healing.

Pluto in 11th house-friendships are likely to be intense, transformative, and karmic.The native may attract friends who are powerful, mysterious, or transformative, or they may themselves be a transformative influence on their social circles. At times, the native may feel the need to let go of certain friends who no longer align with their path or whose influence feels controlling or manipulative. There could be an intense magnetism for certain types of experiences, hobbies, or items, possibly drawn to things that have a transformative or deeper meaning (e.g., items with a mystical or esoteric nature). They could spend money on social causes, innovative ideas, or group projects, often going all-in on what they believe in. There could be hidden opportunities for financial gain, career advancement, or personal growth through international connections. These agreements may involve powerful business partnerships, karmic connections, or even the transformation of beliefs and ideals when dealing with people from different cultural backgrounds. The native and their spouse may experience life-changing events or power struggles together, particularly when it comes to shared interests or future dreams.

Pluto in 12th house- This placement encourages self-help and self-healing, as the native has to confront the deepest, hidden aspects of their psyche. Opening up to others, particularly in terms of vulnerability, is a significant challenge for Pluto in the 12th house. The person might face losses that force them to confront the impermanence of life and to let go of attachments, but these events will also ultimately lead to rebirth. Pluto's influence in this house often signals emotional intensity, secret attachments, or unresolved issues from the pastthat come to the surface and cause the relationship to dissolve. The native may feel fated to experience psychic or spiritual awakenings in a place away from home, or they may undergo a deep psychological transformation while abroad. Living or working in a foreign country can help the person break free from the limitations of their past or ancestral patterns. Sleep can be a time of dreams and psychic experiences, and the individual may experience unusual dreams, often related to spiritual matters or psychological healing. The person may have a strong psychic intuition, an attraction to esoteric teachings, and a propensity for spiritual awakening. The native is often deeply connected to their soul's purpose and may feel an inner calling to undergo intense spiritual growth.

-Rebekah🧜🏻‍♀️🌊

#zodiac signs #energy #astrology #astrological houses #planets #my notes #pluto #pluto the series

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serpentface · 4 months ago

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CAELIN/DELKHIN FOODS: AN EXTREMELY BROAD OVERVIEW

Horselord nomad horking down a blood + seed + cheese sausage while his 4 month old humbly requests a sample. The hard cheeses eaten by some delkhin societies have next to no lactose and can be digested by adults with little issue, but it's too risky for babies. The sausage is too big anyway. It's cooked blood and grasshopper mash for you, son.

Caelin and delkhin are obligate carnivores and can digest very little plant matter (and far less without the use of cooking). The majority of their diets derive from animal protein, and may be supplemented by certain fruits and cooked grains and seeds.

They also have FAR fewer taste receptors than a human and are altogether incapable of tasting sugars. Taste plays a very minimal role in eating to begin with, its function is ultimately a simple matter of determining whether something is safe to be (immediately) swallowed. They have no chewing mechanism whatsoever and swallow food whole.

Because of this, enjoyment of food does not derive from the flavor, which can/will barely be tasted anyway. The more complex and pleasurable aspects of eating stem from visual and tactile interaction with the food before and during swallowing.

The aesthetic qualities of food are very important and sensibilities vary culturally, but an underlying common element is that most 'good looking' food also looks like it can be swallowed whole and will have a pleasing or interesting texture in the process. (IE for the vast majority of sensibilities, a sticky rice ball will look more pleasing than a bowl of rice). To many human sensibilities, some of the most carefully prepared foods might look like an unfortunate chunky meat mash, perhaps strangely sprinkled with petals or insect wings, while an observer from the food's source culture may note the pleasantly contrasting textures and colors, the striking robustness of the meat against the delicacy of its visual seasoning.

Most ‘seasoning’ is for purely visual purposes and plays no role in taste. Prepared meals may be sprinkled non-toxic flower petals or seeds, layered with insect parts (raw or cooked), or dusted with salt for both visual appeal and as a supplement of needed minerals. Pigmented seasonings are very popular and may be slathered across prepared food items for visual flare. Arthropod-derived pigments that may be considered exclusively dyes in other contexts are often used as food coloring by caelin.

Whole meats may be cut to appeal to aesthetic sensibilities, highlighting texture and fat content. ‘Throat-feel’ tends to be important for the shape of cuts, though opinions on what the best throat-feel is varies by culture (the most common denominator seems to be ‘provides a feeling of fullness without any difficulty in swallowing’).

Shaping food items in unique ways also adds both aesthetic and variable throat-feel qualities. Eating meat and cooked grain in meatball or sausage form is very common, ranging from very thick links to almost noodle-like sausages using the intestines of small mammals as casing,

Eating live vertebrates (usually stunned or dying) is more common than in human cultures (both for obvious physiological reasons and because the ancestors of all caelin/delkhin would have done so on the regular as a natural facet of hunting small prey). In some cases this is ultimately a matter of appealing throat-feel, in others it plays a more specified part in specific rites or medicinal practices. Opinions on the acceptability of this practice/what animals are acceptable vary tremendously. Eating live fish tends to be uncontroversial outside of groups with spiritual/ethical objections to consuming anything alive whatsoever, opinions on small reptiles and mammals are more variable.

Caelin have extremely acidic stomachs (a trait somewhat reduced in delkhin) and have significant resistance (though not immunity) to bacteria and parasites in their diet. Eating meat raw is overall Less risky for them than it is for humans, and some cultures will intentionally allow meat to rot to various degrees as a form of delicacy (though some sensibilities consider eating rotten meat to be an act of desperation, or low class). In general, most cultures regularly eat meat in both raw and cooked forms, and the average person will eat most of their meat dried for longterm preservation but will tolerate a mild degree of rot.

Foods are often dipped in oils (usually rendered animal fats) for an appealing sheen and needed extra calories. Blood or wine may serve similar purposes. Where strong liquors are consumed as a regular part of life, they're usually integrated into the diet as a psychoactive dip for meats.

The staple elements of the diet depend on subsistence methods, but insects often play a very large role. Caviar ants are a common staple in warm/wet areas for large societies, as they are the easiest and most productive source of protein to sustain an obligate carnivorous populace. In drier areas, one needs vast amounts of livestock to sustain a large society- most of the biggest caelin and delkhin civilizations are clustered in highly productive grassland for this reason.

Big, livestock-dependent and heavily class-stratified societies are the only contexts in which a large portion of the population is dependent on vegetable matter. Members of lower classes may have a baseline diet consisting of cooked grain (grown predominantly for livestock feed) mixed with blood, supplemented by foraged insects and eggs. This is Survivable, but not healthy and can result in severe malnutrition without being supplemented on a regular basis.

Where large vertebrates are consumed, eating the entirety of the animal is especially vital. All organ meat and flesh will be eaten, tendon and bone not needed for material will be cooked down and pulverized for consumption, etc. Some cultures actively eat small amounts of fur or feathers, seeing it as a means of cleansing the digestive system. Aversions to certain forms of offal are very rare and only tend to develop in class stratified cultures, in which regular consumption of the most favored meats is reserved/only regularly accessible for upper classes (though in these cases, the aversion tends to be towards the more preservable, less nutritious lean muscle meats than nutritious, perishable organs and fatty cuts).

Some caelin societies live as scavenger-nomads, where small family units follow large herds of wild (or semi-domesticated) game, forage the insects they kick up, and eat their dead (either passively waiting for deaths, chasing away predators from kills of their herd, or actively picking off elderly or injured animals). The basis of this subsistence method is ancestral to both caelin and delkhin (prior to the latter becoming flightless in island isolation), and the first anatomically modern caelin and khait essentially domesticated each other via this continuing relationship. This is ultimately the most energy-efficient mode of subsistence for caelin as a species, with the only (debatable) downside being that it does not support large, concentrated populations.

Caelin and delkhin nomadic pastoralists slaughter livestock at a higher rate than most human pastoralists do, as they have fewer options for supplementing their diet outside of their livestock. Total reliance on fast-breeding livestock like horses is more common than dependence on slow-breeding cattle, camala, or khait. The lifestyle still necessitates reliance on living animals as renewable resources and sources of wealth, so most animal protein will still be acquired without slaughter.

Blood can be especially important to nomadic pastoralists as a primary means of consuming their valuable livestock without actually killing them. Livestock can be bled in rotation, minimally injuring the animal and giving each time to heal before being tapped again. Blood is eaten in congealed pastes, sausages, or mashed together with thoroughly cooked grain and seeds to form a patty.

Some pastoralists have relatively unique practices of consuming dairy products. As they are not mammals, caelin/delkhin do not produce the lactase enzymes necessary to digest lactose whatsoever, and their digestive systems will react to milk essentially the same way as a lactose-intolerant human. However, some forms of heavily strained yogurts and hard cheeses have so little lactose that they can pass through a healthy adult’s digestive system without issue (unless eaten in excess). These dairy products are very valuable as high calorie foodstuffs that can be acquired from livestock both without slaughter and without any injury whatsoever.

Dairy products tend to be a divisive subject that plays a role in conflict between settled agriculturalists and pastoralists. A large proportion of settled societies see dairy products as unclean or unnatural for consumption by anything but baby mammals. Some use this as one of many xenophobic justifications for land conflict with nomadic herders, characterizing their consumption of milk as one of many indications that their foes are uncivilized or animalistic.

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Some misc food examples

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authorhjk1 · 3 days ago

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Double Trouble

(Giselle X Iyo Sky X Male Reader) word count: 8820 words

(Note: I'd like to apologize for my horrendous Japanese skills beforehand.)

You put the dumbells you were using back onto the rack and exhale slowly. After all the ruckus earlier you had to start your workout later than usual. This is your go to gym, because it’s quiet most of the time and you can work on yourself without getting disturbed. But today that wasn’t the case.

When you left the men’s locker room you stopped in your tracks. The entire gym was filled with people. But they weren’t working out. It looked more like they were filming something. Cameras were set up and everyone was walking around as if they owned the place. You were already thinking about going home again, but then you noticed that the cameras were all directed at the ring in the middle of the gym. Two women seemed to be talking in a language you didn’t understand. When you walked a little closer, you could see them standing there while the cameras filmed them. It took you a moment, but then you recognized one of them. The shorter of the two.

Iyo Sky. You could call each other colleagues to some degree. The two of you are both wrestlers at WWE. Since you’re male and she’s female the two of you never actually fought against each other of course. But it was close around 9 months ago.

You and Bayley were up against Iyo and her male team partner in a mixed-tag match. Iyo had been dominating Bayley for a while and knocked her into the corner and then climbed the ropes in one smooth motion. Perched on the top of the turnbuckle, ready to fly. Bayley got to her feet quicker than Iyo expected and leaped towards you, slapping your shoulder. Your hand was barely off the tag rope when the ref called the switch. And just like that, you were in. And Iyo was still crouched high, her knees bent, arms out, one hand steady on the rope.

The two of you locked eyes. She didn’t flinch, even though she’d barely reach your shoulder if you were to stand side by side. But you could see the gears turning in her head. Her superior position, the adrenalin, the pride, the arrogance, the stakes…all of it flickering behind her eyes. You half expected her to jump anyway, rules be damned. Your eyes and hers didn’t even blink and for a moment the arena around the two of you was gone.

But after a breathless second, she scoffed and hopped down, tagging her partner with a sharp slap to his chest.

After that the two of you didn’t even acknowledge each other during the rest of the fight. You were concentrated on fighting her partner, while Iyo was focused on taking down Bayley.

The other woman in the ring was unfamiliar to you, but you guessed she’s Japanese as well. It almost looked like Iyo was showing her some moves or something? As if she was giving her a simple amature lesson in wrestling. From the way the cameras were set up and the staff around them focusing on the taller woman it seemed like Iyo wasn’t the star this time. You wondered who she was. Maybe some Japanese celebrity. She didn’t have the build of a wrestler. Too skinny and fragile. And she was missing that dangerous glare. The one you saw in Iyo’s eyes 9 months ago.

You were about to leave them be and head back to the locker room, but you couldn’t help but stare at Iyo for a moment longer. She wasn’t wearing her usual fancy and colourful get up. Just simple black shorts and a matching sports bra. You weren’t able to appreciate her body when you were in the ring with her, but you’ve seen her countless of times in passing before. Compared to the woman next to her she has a more robust and thicker built. Even without her usual war paint, she looked amazing. You know you’ve glanced at her full thighs a little more often than you should’ve in the past, but who can blame you?

In that moment Iyo was demonstrating a submission lock without a partner as the other woman watched. Her position enabled you to have a clear view of her cleavage in her simple bra from across the room. And then, as if she could feel it, Iyo looked straight at you. You couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but in that split second you felt like you were standing in the ring again, Iyo about to jump at you.

You finish your set with heavier dumbells and place them back onto the rack as well, letting out a low breath as you stretch your arms behind your back. Using your towel you wipe down your neck. Then you hear footsteps approaching behind you. You glance over your shoulder.

Iyo.

She’s just stepped back in from the front, where the crew had been wrapping up the shoot. Through the glass, you can still see the other Japanese woman giving a polite bow to someone near the entrance before slipping towards the locker rooms. She catches your eye briefly - it’s a very different feeling from when you locked eyes with Iyo - and disappears through the door.

Your colleague walks in like she never left, towel swung over one shoulder, same black workout set clinging to her in all the right places. Her braids are a little loose at the ends now, damp strands framing her face. You don’t know if it’s just you, but you feel some sort of unspoken tension between the two of you. Is this still about that moment? Is she still thinking about it?

“Still here?“

Her smirk makes you shrug.

“Why wouldn’t I be?“

“You don’t like big crowds.“

Her simple, yet honest answer peaks your interest. Iyo isn’t even looking at you as she goes through the rack of dumbells. And yet her words tell you that she knows more about you than she leads on. You’re known for minimal crowd interaction compared to other pro wrestlers, both male and female. Fans seem to like your cold, reserved and arrogant persona so you continue to go with it, masking your anxiety and uncomfort with fake confidence.

“Are you not leaving?“

Your question is clearly a deflection. An attempt to steer the conersation into another direction. But you silently acknowledge that Iyo is more observant than she lets on herself.

A knowing smirk plays around her lips.

“Didn’t want to leave Aeri alone with you staring.“

Seems like she really did catch you looking at them for a while earlier.

“That wasn’t for her.“

The words leave your lips before you can stop yourself.

Iyo picks up a pair of dumbells – heavier than you expected.

“I noticed.”

The two of you lock eyes, just for a moment. This time it’s different. Her gaze seems less threatening now. A little softer. But still carrying that silent tension.

“I figured you’d be out the door by now. Fimling’s done.”

“Yeah,”

Iyo sits down on the bench close to yours. She starts a casual set of shoulder presses while looking at you.

“But then I saw you still here. And I thought...hm.”

“Hm?”

You raise an eyebrow and you can see her nonchalant facade almost cracking. She doesn’t answer right away. Just finishes the set, pulls the dumbells down with control and wipes her hands on her towel.

“Just curious.”

Her words hang in the room. You wait until she speaks again. But she doesn’t. She just tosses the towel over her shoulder again and pulls up the waistband of her shorts a little. Her movements are slow and you can tell she’s testing your patience.

“Curious about what?”

You finally ask.

She glances at you.

“About whether you’re still slow.”

You blink.

“Excuse me?”

“You were slow that night.”

The tug of a smile at the corners of her mouth only elevate your irritation.

“Bayley saved you.”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

Iyo stands, rolling one shoulder.

“Then maybe you should prove it.”

You use your towel to distract yourself from her attempt to anger you.

“I defended my title last week. I don’t need to prove myself.”

Your jaw is still sore after a bad kick to the face.

“Tag Team Champion. Seems like you can’t win alone, can you?”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

Iyo shrugs.

“Why not? You’re already warm. And I’m bored.”

“I don’t need to be warmed up to toss you around.”

You rise from the bench. Suddenly Iyo finds herself looking up at you. You half expect her to call out her own bluff. Instead she twirls around and heads for the ring.

“Let’s go, big boy.”

Letting out a deep breath, you follow after her while Iyo is already ducking under the ropes. You know she’s baiting you. And yet you can’t help but admire her toned thighs as you walk closer.

You grip the middle rope and step onto the apron.

She doesn’t wait.

Before your second foot hits the mat, she charges. Her shoulder slams into your ribs and the two of you tumble through the ropes together. You land on your back with a thud, air knocked out of your lungs. You reach for Iyo, but she’s already off you. Quick as ever. She backs up, arms spread, that trademark smirk painted across her face instead of her usual bold makeup.

“Still slow.”

You scramble to your feet and lunge. She ducks your arm and slips behind you, delivering a sharp elbow into your lower back. It isn’t full force, but it’s enough to jolt you forward. Iyo grabs your wrist, twists it behind your back in a hammerlock and uses her leverage to guide you toward the corner.

You growl, twist out of the hold and catch her off guard with a sweep of your arm that knocks her to the mat. She rolls right back to her feet though, showing off her flexibility. You square off, both of you breathing hard now, more from adrenaline than exhaustion. She backs up towards the turnbuckle, never breaking eye contact. And then she climbs.

Top rope.

Your pulse spikes.

Iyo perches there like a bird of prey, arms spread for balance, knees bent.

“Feeling brave?”

Iyo just grins. She doesn’t answer.

Then she leaps.

You expected her to say something back so you’re caught off guard.

She twists mid-air, a flying crossbody, and crashes into you chest-first. You catch her by instinct but the momentum sends you both tumbling to the mat again, her body sprawled across yours.

You grunt, rolling with her weight, trying to regain control. She tries to twist free again, but you pin her down. Only for her to shift her hips and reverse the position. Now she’s on top, straddling your waist, holding your shoulders to the mat.

You buck your hips and twist hard, trying to toss her, but she leans into it, arms braced, one hand gripping your shoulder for balance. Your hand, in turn, finds her hip.

Then it slides down as you lose your grip.

And you both freeze.

Your palm is firmly gripping the curve of her ass. And she’s still holding your shoulder. Not to pin you anymore. Just staying there.

Iyo’s breath is shallow. Her lips slightly parted. And now her thighs are squeezing tighter around your waist.

Neither of you moves. You’re just staring into each other’s eyes.

Until both of you do move. At the same time.

You lean up just as she leans down and your mouths meet in the middle. It’s hard and messy and too fast. It’s not a kiss for the camera. It’s a kiss that reeks of frustration, adrenaline, sweat and sexual attraction.

Iyo kisses you like she’s trying to shut you up.

You kiss her like you’re ready to stop fighting her. But a second later you struggle against her weight on top of you. Iyo holds you down and kisses you again.

Her lips move against yours with more intent and hunger now and less shock. She shifts her weight to one side and deepens the kiss, trying to push you down against the mat. But your hand is still on her ass and with a quick twist of your hips, you finally manage to roll the two of you over, flipping her onto her back.

Now you’re on top.

Iyo’s eyes seem to stare into your soul, just a breath away from yours. She smirks.

“Getting quicker?”

You grin against her mouth.

“You’re getting slow.”

She responds by sinking her teeth into your bottom lip.. Not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to make your breath hitch.. And then she pushes up with her legs, trying to reverse the position again. You hold your ground, your forearms braced on either side of her head.

“Iyo-”

But she uses your moment of hesitation to slip one arm under yours, wraps her leg around your thigh, and shoves you sideways.

The two of you roll again and it ends with her on top.

Now she’s straddling your chest, hands planted firmly on your shoulders, looking down at you with that same cocky, confident grin she has been sporting this entire time.

“You let me do that.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Iyo leans down again, her braid brushing against your jaw as her lips find yours once more. This kiss is slower. Deeper. She tastes like vanilla and lust and your hands find her hips, holding her steady as she moves over you. You slide one hand up along her side, tracing the curve of her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin. She shudders slightly against your chest, but doesn’t slow.

Until your hand reaches the clasp of her sports bra.

Iyo breaks the kiss. For a second, you think she’s going to pull away. Instead, her fingers find the hem of your shirt.

“Off.”

She mutters.

Then she lifts it halfway up your chest and you sit up just enough to yank it over your head. The second it’s gone, her hands are back on your shoulders, pushing you down. But this time, your arms wrap around her waist and pull her down with you.

Her body fits against yours perfectly. You feel her breathing pick up as her tits press against your chest.

You kiss Iyo harder now, tongue brushing hers, your hand gripping her waist as you try to roll again. She feels it immediately. How your pressure shifts. How your hips push to one side. How your leg slips between hers.

She breaks the kiss just long enough.

“Really?”

“What?”

You ask innocently, your voice sounding breathless.

You dig your heel into the mat, twist your torso and try to take her with you. But Iyo is ready this time. Her knee drives upward, not cruelly, but with enough force to slam into your ribs and knock the wind from your lungs.

“Fuck.”

You hiss through your teeth, falling back flat against the mat, one hand pressing to your side.

Iyo doesn’t move off you. In fact, she shifts. Her thighs slide forward until she’s no longer straddling your waist. She’s sitting on your chest now, her knees braced on either side of your ribs. You can feel the warmth of her through her shorts, pressed right against your sternum.

Biting your lip, your eyes flutter shut for a second as you breathe through the ache.

When you look back up, Iyo’s watching you. Not with mockery, but heat. Her tongue swipes over her bottom lip slowly.

Her next words are quiet and clear.

“Eat me out.”

You blink.

She doesn’t repeat herself.

The order hangs between you like a lit fuse. She’s watching your face, your reaction. Her hands rest lightly on her thighs, fingers twitching in anticipation. There’s the faintest tremble in her breath. You lick your lips and her eyes drop to your mouth. She raises her hips just enough for you to move, if you’re going to.

“Who do you think you are?”

Iyo blinks.

For the first time, she looks unsure. Not just a flicker. A crack. Her smirk falters.

With a sharp twist and surge of strength you grab her waist and roll, half lifting, half tossing her off you. She lands on her back with a surprised grunt, not hurt, but caught off guard.

By the time she gets her hands under her, you’re already on her. Not just on top, but between her legs, thighs spread around your hips, your body pressing her into the mat. One of your hands pins her shoulder as if you’re trying to score a real pinfall. The other slides down her stomach, over to the waistband of her shorts.

Iyo’s breath hitches. Her hands flex against your arm but don’t push. You lean down until your face is just inches from hers. She’s watching you now, eyes slightly wide, chest rising faster with each breath.

“You don’t give me orders.”

Your fingers hook under the edge of her waistband.

“You ask.”

You feel her hips tense.

And with one smooth motion, you bring your second hand down to join the first and start pulling. The waistband peels down over the firm curve of her hips, revealing soft, heated skin beneath. You tug it lower, until the fabric rests around her knees. Enough to expose her. Enough to claim your victory in this little war.

Iyo doesn’t stop you. She doesn’t speak. But her hands grip your forearms now, her eyes burning.

Your own drag down her body, taking in the strip of black fabric still covering her. It’s tightly hugging her pussy lips and barely hiding the evidence of what she’s feeling.

Iyo is wet.

You can see it even through the thin cotton. A darker patch blooming between her thighs, glistening slightly under the gym’s flourescent lights. Her legs are still around your waist, but she’s gone completely still now, except for her breath, which is fast and shallow.

You don’t rush as your fingers slide along the waistband of her panties., thumb hooked just under the edge. You’re not pulling yet, just testing the waters. When you hear her bite back a whimper, you look at her.

“Say it.”

Iyo’s jaw clenches. Her hands grip your forearms tighter.

You’re in control now and you don’t have a problem with waiting for a response. The heat between you is thick now. Her lips part slightly and her brows knit like she’s fighting herself, trying not to give in.

But after a couple of seconds longer, Iyo breaks.

“Please.”

Without a word you dip your head. Your mouth presses a kiss against the wet spot in the center of her underwear. She gasps, quiet and shaky, and you feel her hips shift beneath you. You do it again, slower this time, tongue flat against the fabric, tasting her through it.

Then you pull the black cotton to the side. Iyo is soaked.

You don’t wait any longer. You drag your tongue through her folds slowly, savoring the first proper taste. She lets out a breathy, unguarded moan that vibrates in her chest. Her thighs tighten around your head. You suck her clit softly, then let your tongue circle around it, flicking and teasing her. Watching how her body reacts to every mothion, you caress her thighs with your hands, marveling at her soft skin and their fullness.

She writhes under you, not trying to get away, just overwhelmed. Her body is relaxing and tensing at the same time. Her breath is quick and shallow. Iyo’s hand shoots down, fingers tangling in your hair, tugging. She isn’t trying to stop you, she’s trying to keep you were you belong. Between her thighs. You moan softly into her and she jerks beneath you, her pussy and exposed clit hypersensitive right now.

You flatten your tongue and lick deeper, pressing in, slow and steady. Her scent, her taste, her thighs around your head, her hand in your hair, Iyo herself...It feels like you’re getting drunk on her. The way she gasps your name under her breath between shudders makes your cock twitch against your shorts. Her thighs start to tremble and you can feel that you’re on the right track. But you don’t want her to finish. Not yet. As much as you like it when she has her angry persona on, making her beg feels even sweeter.

You slow down, lips still against her, tongue teasing with light, barely-there strokes.

A soft desperate whimper escapes her lips.

“Don’t stop.”

You glance up, your voice rough with want.

“Then tell me what you want.”

Her eyes burn into yours.

“I...I want you to make me cum.”

Her breathless whisper has you smile devilishly.

Instead of picking up the pace, you move slower.

Your tongue traces lazy circles over her clit, barely pressing down. Just enough to make her squirm. Her body tries to chase your mouth, her hips lifting, but your hands keep her pinned, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of her thighs. And you can’t help but admire them again. They’re wrapped around your head like a vise. Every time your tongue strokes deeper or linger too long in one spot, she tightens them, almost possessively. One moment they’re squeezing so hard your ears ring, the next they loosen just enough to let you breathe.

Iyo is visibly trying to stay in control, but you’re not letting her.

You drag your tongue down lower, pushing between her folds and circling back up, sucking lightly on the swollen nub, then pulling away again. Her thighs clamp down in frustration. Her breathing is getting erratic now, sharp inhales through her nose, soft curses under her breath in Japanese you can’t understand, but you know what she feels. You moan into her, letting the vibration carry through your tongue and that’s what gets her to cry out. She’s loud and desperate now. Her thighs shake around your head, locking tighter, one heel pressing into the mat for leverage.

“Motto…” (More...)

She’s close, but you don’t want it to be over yet.

You tease her with the tip of your tongue, gentle flicks that make her entire body twitch. Her hand is still in your hair, pulling and pushing. She’s conflicted, the brain fog of her incoming orgasm clouding her mind. She wants to finish, but she doesn’t want to give in completely and utterly.

Your lips close around her clit again and suck firmly.

Iyo gasps. It sounds high pitched and raw.

Her thighs crush around your skull one final time as her whole body tenses beneath you. Then she cums. Her body shudders. Her back arches. Her breath catches in her throat. She’s unable to scream. She just whimpers.

You feel it all in the way her thighs shake and tighten and then finally release, falling open like she can’t hold them up anymore. You stay between them, kissing her softly once more before pulling back, her slickness warm on your lips and your face. Iyo’s eyes flutter open. They seem bigger than usual. Her lips are parted as well, but she can’t speak.

Giselle steps back into the gym with soft cautious steps. The place is quieter now, mostly empty. She wants to thank Iyo properly, not just for show on camera. She genuinely enjoyed her first wrestling lesson. It was fun to have an opportunity to learn from a Japanese pro from WWE while Aespa is staying in town during their tour.

She’s looking for Iyo, when Giselle hears a faint noise coming from the ring she was in earlier. Iyo is there and so are you. She hesitates and then decides to watch you two, curious on how the two of you would fight each other. Maybe she’d recognize some of the moves Iyo just tought her.

From where Giselle stands, it looks like real fighting at first. Iyo is lying on her back and you’re kneeling between her legs. Your head is down low against her stomach or maybe her chest.

Giselle tilts her head. Iyo’s hand is in your hair. Your bodies move slowly, like you’re struggling against each other, but not actually fighting. Your movements don’t feel as hard or calculated as she thought they would be. She takes a step closer, curious what’s going on. Something about the way your bodies move makes her hesitate. It really doesn’t feel like fighting or sparring. It feels kind of personal.

Giselle squints. Iyo’s finger clench in your hair again and your head dips lower. She watches, eyes furrowed and confused.

But then realization hits her. Her heart skips a beat as Giselle’s epiphany begins to creep up her spine. That isn’t a hold. This isn’t training. She notices Iyo’s shorts around her knees.

You’re eating her out.

Iyo is still trembling, thighs twitching slightly around your arms as you ease back up between her legs. Her breath is uneven, her lips are parted, her chest is rising and falling like she’s just gone through a match.

You watch her. Not just proud of your work, but also with hunger. Her small Japanese body looks wrecked in the most beautiful way. Sweat-kissed skin. Her hair sticking to her cheek. Her eyes half-idded with the heat of the aftershock.

She doesn’t say anything.

You take it as an invatation. Your hand slides between her thighs again, fingertips tracing the slick mess you’ve left behind. She jolts, hips twitching. She’s too sensitive, not ready yet. But you don’t stop.

“Dame… mada…” (No… not yet…)

You ease two fingers into her slowly and gently. Her slick pussy immediately grips onto them.

“You-”

She tries to start in English, but her voice breaks when your fingers curl inside of her.

“Binkan sugiru…” (I’m too sensitive…)

You don’t understand what she’s whimpering, so you silently watch her arch again, this time more subtle with less resistance and more surrender.

Iyo’s legs twitch, starting to close around your hand like instinct, but you use your other arm to press her thighs apart, keeping her open. Her slick heat pulsates around your fingers as you begin to pump them in and out. Slow at first, then deeper and faster.

She whimpers, her hand grabbing your wrist not to push you away but to hold onto something. Her eyes meet yours again. They’re dark with lust, slightly lost focus and it looks like she’s silently pleading.

You keep going, watching her coming undone all over again.

Giselle freezes behind a row of machines. Her heart hammers against her ribs and her mouth has gone dry. She has no words for what she’s seeing. But her body reacts before her brain can catch up. Her thighs press together. Her fingers tremble where they clutch the zipper of her hoodie. She doesn’t mean to watch. She knows she shouldn’t watch.

But here she is.

Iyo’s legs are spread open across the mat, her body arching into your hand. Giselle can’t see all the details, but she could hear them. The soft wet sound of fingers moving, Iyo’s breathy gasps, the way her muscles strain and shiver.

Giselle swallows and shifts in place, her hoodie suddenly too warm. Her hands move before she can rethink her actions. It feels like she’s tugging at her zipper without permission. The hoodie falls open, revealing the snug leopard-print top underneath. Her fingers graze the swell of her tits through the fabric. First soft but careful, then harder and firmer.

She exhales shakily, lips parting. Her other hand slides down, beneath the waistband of her sweatpants, her thin panties the only barrier. She presses her fingers against herself and gasps, nearly stumbling where she stands.

Giselle leans back against the wall and starts to rub slowly, in time with the rhythm she imagines playing out in the ring. Her eyes stay locked on you two. Iyo is so beautiful like that. Completely undone. While you lean over her, your muscular back having her imagine how easy it’d be for you to carry her.

Giselle’s thumb teases her own nipple through the thin fabric, her hips beginning to roll softly into her palm. She doesn’t notice that her sweater is slowly slipping from her shoulder. She doesn’t notice it sliding down her arm. Not until it falls to the floor with a soft, betraying rustle of fabric.

The sound of her sweater hitting the floor isn’t loud, but in the near empty gym it echoes in her ear like a gunshot.

Giselle freezes.

Her hand tries to jerk out of her pants and she tries to reach for her sweater, but her waistband is too tight and she doesn’t dare move. Her heart stops when she looks up.

Iyo’s eyes are on her.

Even through the haze, her lips are parted, her brows tight with pleasure.

Iyo sees her.

Their eyes lock.

Giselle’s breath hitches. She opens her mouth, not sure what to do. Apologize? Explain? But she’s unable to speak. Her throat is dry, her face on fire and her hands tremble. She expects Iyo to say something, to stop, to shove you off of her and call her out.

But Iyo doesn’t speak. She can’t. Because just then you curl your fingers inside her again and Iyo’s entire body arches off the mat. Her lips part in a gasp that turns into a moan. She sounds shaky and broken. Her legs kick against the floor. Her thighs clamp down tight around your wrist She cums. Hard.

Giselle can only watch.

Iyo’s body twists with every wave, one hand covering her mouth as if she can contain the sounds, but it is useless. Her moans and Japanese curses spill through her fingers. Her other hand is franticly looking for something to hold onto. The air, the mat, you, herself.

Giselle’s knees nerly buckle as she feels the hand in her pants move on its own. She should leave. Should run while Iyo is still losing her mind. But she can’t move. Her legs feel like jelly, her chest so tight she thinks she might cry, or moan out herself, the pleasure pulsating inside of her. She presses herself against the wall, hoping to disappear. But then Iyo finally starts to come down. Her body drops back to the mat like something soft and spent. Her hand slides from her mouth, her chest rising and falling like she’s just been dragged through a warzone.

She turns her head, still dazed, still panting. But she manages to lift one trembling arm and point weakly toward the machines. Toward Giselle.

You don’t speak, still focused on Iyo’s trembling body, your wet hand resting just below her navel now. But you follow her line of sight. And turn. Your eyes land directly on the woman Iyo taught earlier.

You stare at her and she doesn’t move. Her hoodie is lying at her feet, her mouth slightly open, her chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. You admire her tits in that leopard-print top for a moment. Her hand is still tucked into the waistband of her sweatpants, frozen mid-motion. You’re not sure what to say. But then you notice her fingers twitch insider her pants. She’s still touching herself. The realization crashes through you. She had every chance to leave, to run the second she got caught. But here she is. Watching.

The way her eyes flick from your face to your chest, to Iyo’s limp, trembling body lying beneath you… She looks desperate, needy. The need to do to her what you did to Iyo builds in your chest.

Without a word, you reach down and wrap your hand around Iyo’s ankle. She barely reacts, her body loose and spent. But her leg slides easily across the mat as you pull her toward you. Giselle’s breath catches at the sight. You drag Iyo toward the edge of the ring like you’d do with an oponent after delivering a dropkick to his chest. Her skin glides against the canvas, slick with sweat, her limbs too exhausted to resist. You climb down first, then reach back into the ring and scoop Iyo into your arms. She lets out a soft sound, but her arms curl loosely around your shoulders, her cheek pressing into your bare chest. You carry her like she weighs nothing, walking across the gym floor toward a nearby bench.

Giselle watches, her eyes following you. Her fingers are still buried between her thighs, the look on her face a mix of heat and disbelief.

You lower Iyo down ono the bench gently, her back against the cool black leather, legs slightly parted, thighs still twitching now and then. Her chest rises and falls with shallow breaths. Her eyes barely open. You expected her to be able to take more.

After sitting down beside her, you look at the second Japanese woman in the gym. You tilt your head once and then do a come hither motion in her direction.

Her breath stutters. She doesn’t move at first, too many thoughts racing in her mind. But you hold her gaze. And slowly, hesitantly, her hand slips out of her sweatpants. She wipes it against the side of her top and takes one shaky step forward.

Then another.

Her cheeks burn, but her eyes stay locked on yours. She doesn’t know what’s about to happen. But she can’t stop walking toward you.

Once she stands in front of you, her heart thunders in her ears. She can feel the wetness between her thighs, proof of how badly she wants this. You don’t speak. You just tap your thigh. This time Giselle doesn’t hesitate. She steps forward and carefully lowers herself onto your lap, sitting sideways across your thighs, her legs draped over yours. Her skin tingles with adrenaline and with need.

You look at her and she looks back. She definately is a celebrity. Even now you can tell she’s carying herself with a hint of elegance. Her toned body isn’t as muscualr ot thick as Iyo’s, but that makes the curve of her waist feel even better against your palm. Maybe you did see her somewhere before.

Without a word, you slip beneath the soft fabric, pushing past her panties, knuckles grazing her hips. Then lower, your fingertips brushing her folds, warm and already slick.

She gasps. The sound barely escapes her throat. It’s a mix of shick and craving.

You tease her first, just a stroke along her slit, feeling how wet she is. Her hips shift in your lap, a soft tremble running through her inner thighs. Her breath fans against your neck now.

Your finger move again, deeper this time. She moans something in Japanese. Her arm wraps around your shoulder for balance as your fingers begin to work her slowly. You circle her clit with your thumb, then dip your fingers inside her pussy. You spread the pleasure out until her thighs are shaking. She presses her forehead to your shoulder, lips barely grazing your skin. Her fingers curl into your chest, just like yours curl inside of her.

Iyo watches the two of you, sitting upright now on the bench, legs closed but arms resting on her thighs. Her breathing is steady again, her expression cool, but her eyes betray her. Satisfaction, after having you make her cum twice. And envy, that your full attention isn’t on her anymore.

She shifts slightly on the bench, her fingers absently stroking a mark on her own thigh, left by your hand or her own struggle. She doesn’t interrupt, just watches Giselle shaking in your lap.

The younger of the two lifts her head, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. Most of the embarassment she felt before has now left her body. It got replaced by lust and longing for more. Your fingers don’t stop moving and Giselle shudders, her whole body tensing. Her breath hitches. Once. Twice. Then she moans against your collarbone as her climax breaks loose inside of her.

“Kimochi yosugite…” (It feels so good…)

Her thighs squeeze around your hand. Her sweatpants soak through instantly, a dark patch blooming between her legs, her release drenching your fingers in her slick. Her moan is soft but unfiltered. Iyo closes her eyes, lips twitching in a silent exhale. She knows that sound.

Giselle clings to you, burying her face against your neck, trembling in your arms. You run your fingers through her red dyed hair, gently guiding her head back so she looks at you. Her lips are still parted, her breath hot and uneven against your skin. She is visibly hungry for more, her eyes searching for yours.

“Get yon your knees.”

You aren’t sure anymore if Iyo mentioned her name is Aeri?

Looking into her eyes now, Aeri is frozen after your command. Her breath hitches and doubt flickers in her eyes. Like her mind is catching up to her body all at once. But then she glances down at her soaked sweatpants. She knows there is no turning back now. There’s no point in denying that she needs this.

Aeri slips from your lap and lowers herself to the floor between your legs. On the way down, she lifts her head and meets Iyo’s eyes. The other woman is still sitting upright, watching with an unreadable look in her eyes. They hold each other’s gaze in some sort of silent acknowledgement and awareness.

Then they both look at the same thing.

Your hand moves to your waistband and you pull your shorts down just enough. Their eyes drop in sync. Aeri swallows hard. Iyo tilts her head slightly and her lips curve into a smirk.

“Have you ever done this before?”

Aeri opens her mouth, but no words come out. She’s not sure what Iyo means. This specific act? With another woman present?

Before she can ask, Iyo stretches her arms. Slowly shifts position and lies back down. This time on her stomach along the bench, her face angled toward your lap.

“Looks like you really are a champion.”

Her cheesy line would have made you cringe, if it wasn’t for her hand wrapping itself around your base. She leans forward, a smile on her lips. And then takes you into her mouth.

You let out a shaky breath and lean back on the bench, one arm behind you for balance, as Iyo’s lips wrap around you. Her mouth is hot, wet and the way her tongue moves… She feels confident and in her element. It makes your thighs tense under the touch of her breath. You let out a low groan, your fingers tangling in her braid, not to guide her, but because you need to touch something.

Aeri stays still, watching with wide eyes. Her thighs begin to rub together once more. You glance down at her and catch her staring. Not just at your cock, but also Iyo’s mouth. The way she takes you deeper, then pulls back to let a string of saliva cling between her lips and your tip, before swallowing you again. The sensation is incredible. But so is the view. Aeri kneeling before you, Iyo lying next to you. One pleasuring you, the other slowly touching herself again while she watches.

Iyo eventually pulls back with a soft, satisfied sound, her lips glistening. She looks to Aeri and says something in Japanese.

“Oishii. Hora koutai.” (It tastes good. Your turn.)

Aeri hesitates, breath caught in her throat, but then she leans forward. Her lips brush against your tip first, careful and cautious. Then she takes you into her mouth, trying to match what she just saw. Her movements are uncertain, but there’s eagerness in every inch she takes. You tilt your head back, eyes fluttering closed for a second as the warm pressure of her lips surrounds you. She moans softly as she begins to move and the vibration sends a shiver down your spine. You glance down again and see Iyo watching you, her hand still holding your base, giving it tantalizingly slow strokes, as Aeri sucks you. Her lips slide down your length, tongue pressed tight against the underside of your cock as she sinks deeper. Then she pulls back, her hand joining Iyo's, but her rhythm is shy and eager. The combination of both hands has you sigh as they spread their mixed saliva across your entire length.

Iyo takes over next without a word. Her lips seal around your head, her hand now wrapping around Aeri’s, guding the motion. Not competing. Sharing. And then Aeri leans in again, kissing along the shaft as Iyo sucks the tip.

Then they take turns. One tasting. One teasing. One sucking. One licking. It makes your head spin. Their mouths are soft, their tongues warm, their breath hitting your skin in staggered rhythm. You glance down again and for a second, it blurs. The two of them, faces side by side, focused only on your pleasure. They move similarly. Hold their mouths the same way. Tilt their heads with almost mirroring expressions. In fact, they actually look alike.

You blink.

Is it because they’re both Japanese? Or are you just imagining things? The same eyebrows. The curve of their noses. The similar shapes of their foreheads and lips. Only their eyes are different. And Iyo’s cheeks seem fuller than Aeri’s. Their resemblance has you groan out in lust. Like you’re bieng worshipped by two visions of the same person.

Iyo pulls back first, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her lips are swollen and her cheeks flushed.

“I want you.”

Her eyes look up into yours. Her voice deeper than usual, laced with desire. Before you can react, she glances at Aeri and then pats the bench she’s lying on.

“Come here.”

Aeri looks unsure at first, but follows. The two women climb up to the bench together, bracing on all fours, side by side. Their backs arched. Their asses high. Their flushed faces turned down. Their hair falling loose.

They don’t look at you for a while, they just wait. Eventually Iyo turns her head slightly, just enough for her voice to reach you.

“Come on, champ.”

Her words sound teasing. Like a challenge.

You step closer to the bench, after you stood up to make room for Aeri, standing behind the two of them, your eyes moving slowly over their bodies, admiring their curves. You reach first for Aeri, her sweatpants still clinging to her hips, soaked through in more than one place. She glances back over her shoulder, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You hook your thumbs in the waistband and pull. The fabric drags across her skin, revealing her panties beneath, damp and clinging to her folds. You peel those down next and she lifts her knees just enough to let them slide off completely. Her ass is smaller than Iyo’s, tight, soft, with a delicate curve that flexes when she shifts her weight. Then your gaze slides to Iyo. Thicker. Toned. Her thighs full and powerful, her glutes round and perfectly peach-shaped. She holds herself confidently, knees wide, back arched. She isn’t just offering herself to you, she is teeling you to come and take her.

Then, with a teasing roll of her hip, Iyo gives her ass a slow wiggle. The invitation is clear. You place your hand on her hip, squeezing once, hard enough to make her press back against your palm. You line yourself up behind her, your cock already heavy and aching. And then you push forward, deep into her pussy, sinking into her inch by inch. Iyo gasps, her voice catching in her throat. You groan low, the tightness of her pulling you in and holding you there like her body knows exactly what it wants. She’s so warm. So wet.

You bottom out inside of her, your fingers tightening on her hips and she lets out a moan as long and shameless as the one that slipped off her lips in the ring.

Beside her, Aeri doesn’t move, she just watches. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted. She watches every inch of your cock disappearing into Iyo’s pussy as your hips meet her ass. Every push from you, every grind from Iyo has Aeri gasping. She presses her thighs together, rocking slightly in place, trying to ease the heat building between her legs, but unable to look away. Iyo was her wrestling teacher just two hours ago. Now she’s taking every inch of you, head bowed, her arms braced and moaning with every thrust, moving her ass back against you.

“Fuck. So good.”

She curses in English this time.

You grip her hips tighter, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the gym. Her body rocks with every motion.

“Semai… nurunuru… sugoi…” (So tight...wet...amazing...)

Her knuckles turn white as she grips the edge of the bench, eyes squeezed shut, sweat trailing down her back. You look down at her, at the way her ass bounces back against you, at the way her body welcomes every stroke, and you groan, the edge of your own release starting to build inside of you.

And Aeri is still waiting. You slow your pace, pulling back. Iyo whines open and shamelessly, but you step away from her and move behind the younger woman. Aeri tenses when she feels your presense again. Then your hands are on her hips and with one slow stroke you penetrate her folds. Your cock still slick with Iyo’s juices.

Aeri cries out, one hand flying to grip the edge of the bench as her body adjusts to your size. She’s tight, tighter than Iyo and what you expected and her whole frame shudders beneath you as you push deeper. Next to her, Iyo lifts her head just enough to watch. Her gaze is glued to the place where you and Aeri connect. But your missing cock leaves her unsatisfied. You watch as she slips one hand between her thighs, back arching as her fingers press against her clit.

“You looks so fucking good.”

Iyo groans and tilts her head towards Aeri. The younger of the two opens her mouth in a wordless moan and Iyo uses the opportunity to capture her lips with hers.

You start to move faster as you watch the two of them make out. Aeri’s moans break inside Iyo’s mouth. The older woman’s fingers move faster under her, her eyes half-lidded. Her thighs twitch with each breath, pleasure taking over again even as her body trembles when she just thinks about her last orgasm.

You feel the edge again as you’re buried deep inside Aeri’s tight cunt. You’re too close. You grit your teeth, pulling out slowly, your chest heaving.

“Both of you. Stack. Now.”

You catch your breath and regain time until you really won’t be able to hold back anymore.

They both get off the bench with shaking thighs. Iyo slides onto her back along the bench, legs spread, sweat glistening across her skin. Aeri looks confused for a second, but then Iyo reaches up, grabs her waist and pulls her down. Aeri lies flat across Iyo, back to chest, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. Iyo’s arms wrap loosely around her, holding her still as their breathing syncs.

You step back in front of them, both having their legs spread open for you. You push into Iyo first. A gasp escapes her lips. Then you push into Aeri, earning yourself a whimper, her whole body jolting atop the one beneath her.

Back and forth. You thrust into both of them again and again. Each thrust into one draws a desperat sound from the other. They’re both moaning, not in union, but slightly overlapped. You play with your pace and rhythm, not just for their pleasure but also your ability to keep holding out longer. Neither of them knows when it’ll be their turn again. Their bodies grind against each other, slippery with sweat. Their thighs are shaking as you somehow try to hold onto all four of them. They’re both gasping for more with every thrust.

You bottom out inside Iyo, then Aeri. Back and forth. Back and forth. Each motion drawing a fresh gasp and moan, their volumes rising as you continue to fuck them both. Iyo wraps her arms more tightly around Aeri, her lips pressed to the younger woman’s ear now as your hips meet hers. She’s murmuring, soft Japanese spilling from her mouth like that.

“Kimochi ii… iya, yamenaide… aa, motto!” (It feels good….No…Don’t stop...Ah, more!)

Her voice trembles, the words floating directly into Aeri’s ear.

The younger one arches into you next, whimpering between her own gasps, her voice cracking between English and a few broken syllables of Japanese.

“Ah, please...oh god….suki...it feels so good….so much!”

The sounds of their bodies squirming against each other only spur you on. Their slick skin and shifting thighs, Aeri’s tits that slightly bounce in her top and Iyo’s braids that hang off the bench.

You feel yourself loosing control. Your body locking tighter. The heat in your groins building and rising fast.

You pull out abruptly, earning yourself moans of need and displeasure.

You walk around to the other side of the bench, your hand gripping the base of your cock as you step closer. When you stand right above their faces, they both turn their heads toward you almost in sync. Their eyes are wide and mouths slightly open. They’re breathing fast and their cheeks are red. Your cock hangs just above them, glistening with their combined juices.

Iyo looks up at you and licks her lips. Aeri follows suit, her eyes flicking from your cock to your face, then back to your cock. Without a word, they both finish what they started earlier. Iyo leans in first, kissing around the base as Aeri lets her tongue flick against the tip. They both lick the underside of your length, careful not to bump heads. Their mouths move around you like they’ve done this before. They share your cock, Aeri sucking on your tip, while Iyo licks your base. Then Aeri uses her mouth to guide your cock lower, enabling Iyo to wrap her lips around your tip next, as she does so Aeri turns her head a little, but only manages to drag the edge of her tongue across the upper side of your length.

They both work together, their hot mouths, wet tongues and soft lips all over your cock, making your head spin. You have to hold onto Aeri’s head to not fall down. Your breath is quick and shallow now, your thighs tense and twitching.

“I’m close.”

You manage to say, your voice hoarse.

Aeri glances up at you. Then her lips form a teasing, mischievous smirk and she says something in Japanese.

“E, mou?” (Eh, already?)

“Sorya sou yo, futari-gakari da mon.” (Can’t blame him. There’s two of us.)

“Chotto kawaisou kamo?” (Maybe we are being a little mean?)

Aeri’s teasing tone tells you they are probably making fun of you, but you don’t understand them. Your desire to shut them up by just fucking their throats rises, but you know that you wouldn’t last long enough for that.

“Demo kimochi yosasou.” (But he looks like he feels really good.)

Iyo’s smirk makes goosebumps form on your skin.

“Kono hito, ikkai ya nikai ja owaranasou.” (I bet he can go more than just a round or two.)

Aeri giggles softly her lips wrapping around your length again.

It only takes a couple of seconds longer until your orgasm tears through you. You groan deep in your chest as the first streak of your cum paints across their faces, thick and warm. Iyo closes one eye, but opens her mouth wider. Aeri does the same, catching the next hit with a moan, her lips now white. You continue to cover their faces, your cum splashing across Iyo’s cheek, Aeri’s tongue and both their chins. They both take it all and you never saw something more beautiful. Aeri lying on top of Iyo Sky, both faces heavy with your cum.

The older of the two wraps her lips around the head of your cock one last time, sucking softly as if she’s savoring the taste. Then they both turn to each other, which proves to be a little difficult, but looks sexy nonethelss. Aeri leans in first and Iyo meeets her half way. Their mouths connect in a slow, sticky kiss, their tongues tangling as they share your cum between them. They swap back and forth, moaning into each other’s mouths.

When they finally pull apart, both turn their faces back up towards you. They’re both beautiful messes. Together, they open their mouths, empty.

They swallowed every drop.

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