#and i love how like the rest of my ass is practically hairless and then you get to the crack and suddenly it's DARK

[grimandghoulish]

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[echo-of-sounds]

cock and ball worship pt.2

Small smut drabbles of cock and ball worship with Toshinori, Hizashi, and Fatgum.

Don’t like/Don’t read: ball worship (obviously), rimming, and (slight) deepthroating

Yagi Toshinori

“All you need to do is stand here,” you hummed, kissing between Toshinori’s shoulder blades, then peeked past his arm to the mirror. Blue eyes focused on the bureau’s top. Red painted across his cheeks. It was cute. And concerning. “Hey, if you’re too nervous, we don’t have to.”

He met your eyes and smiled, relieving the worry. “I’ve never, um-” He cleared his throat, making your excitement skyrocket. But you hid your giant grin by kissing his arm while he retried, “I guess I am nervous. Noone’s ever done this to me before. ”

“It’ll be new, but it’ll feel good.” You rubbed his sides, snaking your hands to his front. The light blond trail tickled your fingers. “Do you still want to?”

“... Yes.”

“Lean on the bureau.” Toshi’s back tilted forward, pushing his ass out just a bit. Running your hands down his sides, feeling over his ribs and scars, then stroking his cheeks, fondling his delicate sacrum, you lowered to your knees. You nudged the inside of his thighs and advised, “Spread your legs a little, honey.”

Slowly and hesitantly, he did, exposing himself and giving you room to settle between them. You coddled the beating half-erection and began leisurely pumping him. The simple touch was enough for him to moan. A kiss to his balls made him buck into your hold, already grown stiff.

You pushed his leg out some more. It revealed all of him: tan, near hairless, and quivering. While you kept up the gentle pumping, your mouth fixated his balls, sucking on his left, loving the salted bitterness. It tried tensing up, ascending closer to his body, but your lips trapped it and refused to release. Weight increased behind it. Loose skin caught your teeth. All the flavors turned your salivary glands on, causing excess saliva to drivel down your chin.

Because of the lustful hissing and humping, you let go. Though you did it agonizingly lazy: firming your lips and drawing them off, grazing your teeth over the pocket, nipping the final bit, stretching it as far as it could go until it snapped back, arousing a groan and inflaming his erection to bob, dotting the drawers with precum.

Toshi groaned your name rather needily. You didn’t grant him a break, jacking him off and engulfing his right ball. It shifted around in your mouth. Your nose pressed against him. Drool leaked. Tinges of sharp salt grew. The palate burst when you popped him out and licked up his perineum to his rim.

“Oh!” he gasped, grinding backward. As legs spread, more opened to you, providing your tongue entry. He gasped deeper, ground harder, working himself all over you, letting his taste sink into you and your tongue to thrust into him.

Wanting to try something, you stopped jerking him off. He groaned from the loss but carried on while you solely used your mouth to pleasure him, seeing if he could orgasm from that alone. You moaned, feeling all his muscles tighten. Your nails dug into his thighs.

Desperate fingers held your head motionless. He humped your tongue, groaning aloud, clenching, wetly and lewdly from the overkill of saliva.

After the waves died, and his legs were about to give, he unlocked from your hair. You wiped your mouth and laughed at the drawers splattered with cum. You rubbed his back, kissed his blush-covered shoulder, and asked, “Did you like it?”

“Very much so,” Toshi croaked.

You brushed the hair sticking to his forehead away. “Then I’ll do it anytime you like.”

Yamada Hizashi

“Hizashi…” you sighed, placing your hands on his knees.

“In the mood?”

“Not for me.” You kneeled and grabbed the band of his sweatpants. He lifted his hips so you could pull them and his underwear off. Once freed, his thighs spread, and he flopped flimsily between them.

“Scoot forward,” you partially whined, settling on your knees. Hizashi didn’t question your needs. He just did as you said, shifting to the edge of the seat. Your mouth met him halfway, latching on, nursing the soft limpness. Since it was flaccid, you easily took all inside, able to touch your nose to his hair.

A hand rested on the back of your neck. His fingers rubbed in circles, stopping to grab there when your attention aimed at his glans. Your tongue gingerly stroked the small opening, careful of being too rough on his delicate skin. Salt trickled out. You fed off of what little spilled before suckling on his entire head, now cleared of foreskin, and waved your firm lips around his corona, adoring the immediate groans. Teasing there never failed to evoke them.

You took his hard length in, unable to taste all, then slipped him out, dripping saliva to the couch. Hizashi traced your lips with his thumb, lifting it to his mouth for a taste. He sang, “What’s got you all riled up?”

“Dunno.” You shrugged. You leaned closer and refilled your mouth, then your throat as you pushed yourself. You bobbed on him, winding your tongue around, slurping up any drops that ooze past your lips.

“Come here,” Hizashi grunt. You fussed, wanting him to stay where it was warm and wet. “Come on. Let me see your mouth.”

You slowly withdrew him. Fingers traced your sopping jaw. His thumb hooked and pulled down, holding it agape, letting saliva drip all over again while he repositioned. “Here you go, baby.”

With his thighs lounging wide, you had access to his balls. You latched on to one, breathing through your nose to smell the musk, snuggling up between his legs, cradling the other in your hand, frisking all around it. Your tongue pushed and prodded the sac, occasionally lapping under for the sour, over-salted flavor. A moan gushed out at the heat.

“God, you’re so fucking precious, sucking me off like this.”

His compliment fluttered your chest, intensifying your indulgence. You nestled as close as possible. And even with your cheeks turning sore, you continued supping, swallowing, and nipping. Your head lazed on his thigh as you fed. You tasted lower, pecking his perineum with your tongue. Spit flowed downward.

Hizashi bucked at the liquid. A blush tinted his cheeks. You stared directly into the eyes while he jerked himself off. He returned the gesture, gaping at you and your lips. Your teeth started clamping on the lax skin, feasting on the entire oval inside.

“Fuck!” he howled. “Fuck, you thirsty?”

You nodded.

“C’mere.” Hizashi directed you to draw him in, holding your head steady while he calmly yet hurriedly thrust into your mouth, forcing a gag every other insertion. Saliva and salt built until cum joined, stuffing your throat, leaving you wallowing in it as his grip knotted in your hair. Thighs went rigid. He praised through his orgasm, “Fuck- Just like that, baby. God, you- Fuck, just like that.”

Hearing you choke, he guided you off, and he flopped out, flimsy once again. You wiped your chin on his sweatpants. But instead of getting up, you cleaned him, licking the semen and spit away.

Hizashi patted your shoulder, breathless. “Thank you.”

Toyomitsu Taishiro

You blew raspberries on Taishiro’s stomach. He didn’t react in the slightest- not even a twitch of his lips. “Really?”

“I told you, I’m not ticklish.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled to yourself as you kissed his lower tummy, following the dark stretch marks down, passed the tuft of hair, to his penis. He rested flaccid, his foreskin practically screaming your name. Numerous veins raised the skin. They flattened under your tongue, pricking up after you washed by.

You supported him, watching his soft foreskin smooth over his glans when you tentatively moved it lower. The opening fit snug, unable to retract beyond his corona. You kissed the rim through the layer of thin skin and ran your tongue along it, feeling it shudder from the warmth.

“Use your tongue properly and lick inside, baby,” Tai hummed.

You answered with a moan, slipping into the tight opening, tasting the unseen skin. Salt sopped your tastebuds. It drizzled into the back of your throat, more and more the harder you sipped. He fattened in your hold. The middle swelled the plumpest, heaviest, followed by his glans flaring, producing thick precum. Moan thoughtlessly escaped.

“You like how I taste, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm.” His head poked your cheek, ballooning it out, causing a bit of drool to fall from your lips.

“That’s good, baby. I’m glad. Now, why don’t you take care of my balls for me?”

Your tongue withdrew, saturated in the tart taste. You tauntingly-yet-carefully stretched the loose skin between your teeth, unveiling the rim of his head. It was dark red, swollen, beating, and covered in saliva. Letting go, it was covered again. You kissed and sweetly sucked his tip. It drummed wonderfully against your palm and in your lips. Each pulse spurt just a little precum out for you to eat.

All of a sudden, amid your enjoyment, it was removed. Tai held himself, playfully noting, “You must really like how I taste.”

“I love it.” You kissed his balls next like he asked. The dusting of near-invisible hair didn’t bother you as you sucked one in, pumping with your mouth. It rolled with your tongue, bloated from arousal. The relaxed skin tightened around them. You wondered if he was close or if he was bigger than you remembered.

Not dwelling on it, you released with a nice pop, then repeated the affection on his other one. He grunted and humped with his hand. You nursed harder, almost biting, before popping that one out too.

“Keep doing that,” Tai groaned as he worked himself. A flush coated his face. His gaze locked onto yours. “Your mouth is perfect. You know how to use it so well.”

You whimpered around him. Saliva messed your jaw when you detached, sticking to both of you.

“Don’t worry about that, baby. Just focus on me. I’m almost there.” The husk in his voice drove shivers down your back and made you press firmly to him. You lapped between his balls, switching from sucking to nipping to pulling to kissing, then finally back to licking, abusing the scrotal skin red and randy. You moaned with your tasting, taking in all the bitterness and musk, nurturing all the more scents to flourish.

He cursed repeatedly, running his hand up and down his length, jerking into his hold and your mouth. His balls tensed and rose. You kept drinking them in, humming while he groaned and praised, cumming onto his stomach in rich strands. Only when they lolled did you release, ending it in a charming kiss.

You crawled up to Tai and brushed his bangs back. You nuzzled against his cheek, kissing and whispering praises back to him.

[cursedquantumenergy]

Nanami Kento Alphabet

Note: Is is my first ever piece so please be gentle ;__;!! I wanted to start off with a template before I jump into writing fanfics. I hope you like it and I hope it’s not too boring!  

Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!Reader

Warning: NSFW after the cut

________________________________________________________________

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

- He would try to stay inside of you for as long as possible.

- If in missionary, he would lean in and place his forehead on yours.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

- Nanami absolutely loves your waist. It's where he places his hands to pull you in for a hug.

- it's also where he grips when you're on your knees and he wants to go in deeper (usually when he's close to the end). If you're on top, he tends to rest his hands their and enjoy the ride.

- Nanami's also an ass man so reverse cowgirl is a must. This man loooooves to see you in a pencil skirt.

Cum (anything that has to do with it)

- Absolutely has an edging/cum denial (both ways) and breeding kink.

- If he had a long day at work, he'll ask you to dom and edge him. He loves how intense the orgasm is afterwards.

- Will usually only edge you as punishment if you won't stop teasing him during work (if you end up working together that day). He loves to see you cum so edging you is also teasing him in a way.

- Nanami produces a good amount of cum. A little more than average.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

- Really wants to make a homemade porno one day but doesn't know how to ask. You both usually handle missions on your own. Sometimes you're separated for a few days and the nights feel lonely. During times like those, Nanami would rather watch you enjoying yourself then looking at random women on the internet (makes him feel guilty). He’s currently unsure what he would love more, seeing you pleasure yourself while calling out to him, or seeing himself satisfy you. It embarrasses him quite a bit.

- He also would not be opposed to a threesome with you and Gojo but will NEVER admit it.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

- Nanami has had only 1 serious partner in the past but has slept with 2 others since then. Everything has been pretty vanilla prior to you. You're his 2nd serious partner.

- With you though, he loves to try different things in the bedroom, whether watching porn together, using a new toy, or trying out a new kink. He's never done stuff like that before with his previous partners. Nanami trusts you and feels very comfortable going into different territories with you.

F= Favorite position

- Nanami has two! Remember how he's an ass man? He loves it when you're face down flat on your stomach with your ass slightly in the air. He loves the way your ass bounces when he drives into you. Because of his size, you always have a pleasurable tightness for him but the way this position makes you feel even tighter (and makes him feel even bigger for you!) drives him crazy. It's one of the few positions that makes him lose his rhythm quickly.

- Being the hopeless romantic he is, Nanami loves missionary. Being able to see how you react with every trust? Drives him crazy. He's a big fan of kissing as well and you'll usually end up making out during this position. He loves the way your kisses change as he shifts speeds and roughness during missionary and he usually uses your kisses as a guide for what to do next. Your kisses are getting sloppy? He slows down his pace. Are you nipping at his lips impatiently? He roughens up a bit.  

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

- During sex Nanami is very attentive to your wants and needs. He takes your pleasure very seriously. That being said, he is much more relaxed around you than he usually is around others. He’s playful and loves to grab and tease you whenever he has the chance to. He will hug you from behind and whisper sinful things in your ear.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

- Have you seen his hair? This man loves to keep himself well kept. Nanami doesn’t like going hairless down there but he does like it to be clean and short. He doesn’t want hair getting in your way if you go down on him.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

- LOVES KISSING. Absolutely loves kissing during sex. Will try to kiss you in any position possible. When he can’t kiss you, he praises instead. “You feel so good Y/N,” or “you’re doing so well taking me all in like that” are common phrases for him.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

- Before meeting you, he would masturbate about once a day after work.

- After meeting you though? He would masturbate about 2, maybe 3 times a day. Nanami was so smitten with you since the beginning that you can’t help but tease him for it. He would always think about seeing you strip for him and the different positions that he could try.

- Since getting together with him, masturbating now only happens if he or you go off on a mission and your hours do not coincide.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

- Edging (both ways), breeding kink, dom (both ways, he is a switch). Goes crazy when you call him Sir.

- Honestly you brought out the breeding kink from deep inside him. Nanami would subconsciously push himself deeper and linger within you after cumming inside you. You noticed this after a few times and decided, during a particularly steamy session, to ask him to “Fill me up” and that drove him crazy.  You brought it up afterward if he had the kink. Now after he researched what it was, he absolutely loves to put you in a mating press during his needier days. What drives him crazy is seeing his cum leak out of you and then pushing it back inside with his fingers. “Don’t want to waste any” he will usually say.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

- Absolutely anywhere inside your shared apartment. Nanami is not a fan of getting it on in public spaces and loves the comfort of home.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

- Seeing you in tight fitting jeans or skirts really turns him on. The way it hugs your curves. 10/10 for him.

- Instant hard on when you’re needy and you initiate. Loves to verbally tease you if you are particularly horny and don’t want to be teased. If you start to command him to do things in this state, he will always call you princess. “My, aren’t you needy today princess. You’re wish is my command.” 

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

- Not into heavy bondage, absolutely no knife play or anything that he would consider dangerous. You both face death every day, why bring it into the bedroom?

- Also, not into strong verbal humiliation. He loves you too much that it leaves him feeling awful afterwards. 

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

- After practicing with you, he’s a 15/10. It took him a few sessions to get it right but with your guidance, Nanami’s able to have you screaming within minutes now.

- Nanami loves when you go down on him. The sight of you taking him in as far as you can go, seeing you slightly struggle for the remaining length, ugh, he has to stop himself from forcing your head down on him repeatedly.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

- With foreplay and everything, usually takes around 40-60mins. Nanami loves to take his time with you. He makes sure you cum twice during foreplay to prepare you for his length.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

- For sex, there are no quickies. Like stated above, he wants to take his time with you.

- But if he is really in need and there is a time constraint, oral is the best way to go with him. You can have him undone in a few minutes.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

- Absolutely will try new things with you if it’s not one of his turn offs. He will try things at least once. If it’s something you both like, usually it becomes the obsession for the whole week before you both move on to another thing to try.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

- Nanami naturally has a lot of stamina. Just comes with being a grade 1 sorcerer. Before you, he would normally go one round and be satisfied.

- However, you brought out a mega breeding kink within him.

- He can absolutely go for 2, maybe 3 rounds if you’re both horny enough. He’s considerate so he won’t go a second time unless you’re ok with it (but come on, you are always ok with it). Each round becomes rougher than the last. With the amount of cum he produces, you thank the stars that you’re on birth control. This man can populate a whole village.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

- When he is the dom, Nanami’s go to strategy is to tie you to a chair, gag and blindfold you. He will tape vibrators on your clit and leave a dildo vibrating inside you and just go for a walk for an hour or two before he comes back to see what a sopping mess you are, trying to repeat his name over and over from under your gag, drooling all over yourself.

- If you are the dom, he loves when you put a cockring on him. It frustrates him during the session, but the orgasm is amazing for him after he removes it.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

- Loves teasing both ways. Obviously if either one of you doms it will be more intense (see above).

- During regular sessions his favorite thing to tease both of you with is by having you sit on his length, your back to his chest, and him holding a vibrator to your clit. You both don’t move the entire time and the only feeling is of your walls squeezing his cock. This teases you both, however you tend to break first by grinding against him after your second orgasm.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

- He praises you all day every day. He loves to whisper in your ear during foreplay and will absolutely try to coax orgasms out of you this way.

- He does moan but isn’t very loud. His moans are usually small groans and exhales.

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

- Nanami is the type of person to buy you random lingerie and toys when he is out on longer missions. You need a whole separate trunk for all the stuff he has bought for you over the years. 

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

- Nanami is pretty girthy. It takes you a few seconds to adjust to him every time you have sex. He always makes sure you are well prepared to take him. Foreplay is a must with him!

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

- Surprisingly high. Nanami is very well disciplined and doesn't tend to let his thoughts wander during work. That usually translates into him being extra grabby with you afterwork. With an evenly matched sexual partner, sex will be plenty. With a partner of lower drive, he will be considerate and not ask for anything. But you’re so attentive that even if you’re not up for pure sex, you will totally get him off orally. Get ready for some nightly escapades!

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

- Because sex with you normally only happens at night (very rarely during the day, unless you are both off from work), both of you formed a habit of showering together after sex, then cuddling in bed together. During weekdays, you both fall asleep within 10mins of jumping into bed because work starts early for the both of you. During weekends, you and Nanami tend to stay up talking about little things. About a show you want to watch, or a new dish he wants to try making.

[yamithediaperdork]

Courtney's Visit (OC X anime)

Curt gulped softly as he made his way from his hotel room. He'd been in Domino city for all of 2 days and had already won a jackpot, winnng a million dollars. At age 21, the skinny brown haired boy was set for life, and he knew that most people his age would of been going out and partying, drinking and having a blast. Instead he'd put 3/4's of the money in the bank and was carrying the rest in a briefcase as he made his way to a certain..place of business. He knew the reputation that this house had, how so many men had gone in so prideful or certain they were smarter then the ladies who worked there and how many had come out penniless. he was sure that with the 1/4 of a million he had with him the ladies wouldn't leave him broke and summoning up his courage, he walked into crinkles, house of sissfy.

Sitting behind the front desk of the lobby (the place was a former hotel with each of the girls having their own room and then other rooms having been converted into different styles of nurseries) sat the digimon queen herself, Rika and just the smirk she gave him as he walked in made Curt's knees wobble. "Oh good, anther BIG baby~ Hi there loser, Do you need a diapie change before we get you signed in?" she asked in a voice dripping with fake kindness and venom. "I..I..I.." Curt stammered and was glad he'd worn black jeans here, as a small trickle of pee escaped into the crotch of them. "t-t-today loser!" Rika mocked and gestured to a chair in front of her desk. "C-Can't we uh..go somewhere private to t-talk?" he asked, looking around the lobby where some girls, not working were hanging out, having drinks and snickered. "Why? you really think anyone who see's you in here thinks your anything but a diaper wearing loser?" Rika asked bluntly. "You DID see the big old sign on the front of the building right? if anyone was going to snicker and call you out on it that didn't know what you are, it would of been someone on the street. now come sit down." Curt practically dashed over as Anzu nudged Rukia and whispered something in her ear, the action distracting him and he tripped and fell onto all fours. Rika just laughed and stood up, looking down at him. "Awww, did baby fall and go boom?" she mocked. "I better make a note that your a crawler." she added, taping away on the computer in front of her. Curt whimpered and got into the chair. "A-Actually I'm not so big on cra-" he started to say, but he was cut off "Fuck you. I say your a crawler, your a fucking crawler." She snapped. "Now what's your name loser? I just need a first one, none of your dip shits ever give a real last name anyways." "I..it's Curt." "ok then Curt..do you have a stupid little diaper baby name you'll want you're mommy or mommies to call you?" she asked, typing away. "I uh..Courtney." Curt said, cheek's burning red. "Ohhh a little SISSY BABY~" Rika said with delight, raising her voice and getting chuckles from around the room. "Are you diapered already little missy?"  She asked. "N-No Ma'am." "bad girl, I'll put in a note to have you spanked. Little sissies like you should NEVER go without thick puffy diapers on letting everyone know what you are." "but I do-" "I'm sorry, did I word that in a way that made you THINK it was your choice?" She asked, daring him to defy her. "That's what i thought. now of course your a diaper filling and pissing sissy baby right Courtney?' She asked. "Y-yesh Ma'am." Curt said, his voice taking on the lisp and softer tone it always did when his clitty got all stuff. "wow, like sandblasting a soup cracker. I bet your a pay piggy too aren't you? Oink for me if you are." "I..uh..Oink." Curt said. "Knew i smelled bacon when you came in. Well Missy, just a few more questions. How frilly and stupid do you want your outfit to be?" "S-Super girly and frilly pwease." Courtney said, not even able to think of himself as Curt anymore. "and of course you wanna be sent home when this is done in your sissy baby outfit for public humiliation. " she said, typing again. "One mommy or two loser?" "I..um..Two pwease." Courtney said. "so, let's recap. you're going to be a crawling thickly diapered pay piggy loser, who's gonna be spanked and fill your diapers to the brim, then get kicked the fuck out of here with your keys and wallet or what not in a cute little purse and your boy clothes destroyed. Is that correct sir?" she asked, smirking. Courtney whimpered and squirmed, anther spurt of pee coming out in his pants and he nodded his head. "That'll be $130,000 please then, Paid in advance. with a extra 20,000 fee for every time you cum, and 50,000 for a diaper change. Of course if you wanna pay for a cummie up front you're more then welcome too." She laughed. Courtney gulped, he knew this place was stupid expensive but he hadn't thought it was gonna be this bad. but the cruel attuide of Rika and the way the other girls snickered, he did something very very stupid in his horny haze. "I..I have $ 250,000 in here..can..can i just give this to you and go meet my mommies pwease Miss Rika?" he asked. whistles were heard in the lobby and Rika snickered. "of course you can~ I already sent them your work form." she said taking the briefcase from him and putting it in a safe. "Follow me sissykins and remember, crawl or auntie spanks!" Courtney whimpered, eyes watering up but he slid down to the floor and crawled behind Rika who he was now thinking of as auntie, and to her total delight, he started to oink softly.

May was dressed in a pair of grey sweat pants and white socks, a baggy dark pink t-shirt reading 'queen bitch' in white text covering her top with her bandanna on, while Kari was wearing a baggy pair of shorts, black, with no socks on and a white t-shirt that was just plain. Both girls looked up and smirked as Courtney was lead into the pink nursery and chuckled. "so this is the bigggg spender~ I'm almost sorry i have to spank someone who's gonna be spoiling his mommies so well." she giggled, getting up and coming over, bending down and pinching Courtney's cheek. "I'm not. If he wanted to get out of a spanking he should of brought HALF a million. clearly the fucking loser can afford it." Kari said, coming over and scowling. "Don't think I don't know who you are, I watch the news." Courtney gulped at that, he'd been hoping neither of them would know who he was. "anyways, I'll leave you ladies too it. oh, and before i leave, while we were coming up here Little Courtney BEGGED me to stress he wants orgasm denial." Rika lied, then left before the poor sissy could argue. "wow, quarter of a mil and you don't even wanna cum? my kinda loser~" May laughed. "Well loser, since your spending soo much we'll let you choose, which one of us do you want to spank you? me, or May." Kari said, smirking with a evil gleam in her eye. "I..I want Mommy May to spank me." Courtney said, since so far May had been the sweeter of the two. "Awww ok sweetie, though you reallly should of picked Kari. She just half asses her spanking. I believe in giving the customer everything they paid for!" May chuckled and went over to a spanking stool, picking up a wooden hair brush. "heh yeah,., she's brutal. anyways. lose the boy clothes pig." Kari ordered. Courtney whimpered but did as he ordered,with the two mommies laughing had as they saw his piss stained hello kitty panties, and laughing harder still as they saw his hairless 1 inch wonder. "Awww, not fully hard yet because your scared?" may giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. "I..I'm actually..rock hard." the sissy admitted, looking down. a fresh wave of laughter filled the room and his clitty twitched and throbbed as they did so.

laying across May's lap, Courtney was shaking a little even as she rubbed his back. "shhh it's gonna be ok." she said and giggled. "actually that's a bold face lie, this is going to hurt like a mother fucker, but you know, I figured you'd wanna hear some sappy shit like that first." before the sissy could say anything the hair brush came down hard and he cried out in pain, a little trickle of piss escaping from his baby dick and going between may's spread legs into a dog dish they had set down. "even if you don't drink it, you wouldn't believe what some perverts online will pay to drink 'our' piss, when we just sell them sissy pee!" Kari snickered. Courtney barley heard her as the brush came down over and over again, redding then bruising his buns but despite the pain and the humiliation (or maybe BECAUSE of the the humiliation) he was still rock hard! "wow, you must REALLY love getting your ass beat!" Kari said, a hand down the front of her shorts. watching little loser like this always got her so fucking wet. "Don't think it's gonna earn you any brownie points though, I already tossed your shit out in the hall and it's gonna be burned." Sliding her hand out of her pants she took his wallet and went over to a desk where a note pad was, and looking though his wallet started to take some notes. "If you want her to stop go ahead and ask, but that'll add anther five minutes to your silly Lil spanking." may said. "or I can stop now and while Kari writes down all the information she can about you, we'll get you in a nice thick fluffy diaper and some plastic panties." "I..I want my diapies!"Courtney said, unable to handle the spanking anymore and the girl's just laughed. "Good girl~"

Flat on his back Courtney was powder and then taped into a thick massive pink diaper. the girls giggled and teased him about how NORMALLY they had to shave a man but either Courtney was SUCH a sissy he never got his pubes or he just shaved them himself. a fat cockfier was stuffed in his mouth, the dick shaped nipple reducing any protests to whimper and the mouth guard was in a nice shade of dull pink with white text saying it was widdle Courtney's mute button as they oiled him up Courtney whimpered as may then Kari then back and forth slipped their fingers deep in him, though unknown to the sissy they weren't just fingering his sissy pussy. nice and slick they powered the big baby then pulled a custom ordered diaper that was equal to at like 16-18 diaper of a no name brand's thickness (while being so massive and  hot pink, with stenciled in words like sissy, loser, faggot, cocksucker and the like covering the surface) as the diaper was taped closed Courtney did the only thing he could with two cruel, mean mommies looking down at him he started to rock his hips and make baby love to his massive diaper as they laughed "awww, somebody wuv him's diapies, yes he does!" May coo'ed and pressed her foot down on the front of Courtney's diapers. the little sissy humped like crazy and was SO close to making baby milk when Kari shoved her off. "Hey! no cummies remember? sheesh! you';re gonna get us BOTH fired when he whines we let him cum hard in his diapers!" Kari said and then winked at Courtney. the big baby whined loudly even with his mouth stuffed and May snickered. "oh i can tell, I'm guessing that's him whimpering about how I almost let him go cum cums~" Courtney toyed with shaking his head no, to tell them he wanted to spurt in his sissy diapers while they called him every name in the book, but just couldn't bring himself to spit out the fat cock shaped nipple from his mouth. "Come on loser, time to sit up so we can get your pretty widdle dress on." Kari teased, holding out a SHORT pink party style little girl dress, with puffy shoulders and white lace trim on the hem and sleeves. "What do you think Lil lady? is it girly enough for you?" May giggled. Sitting up on his thick pampered diaper butt, Sissy Courtney sucked hard and fast and rocked back and forth on his diapered butt, trying to rub his nub as he reached out for the dress with his hands. Naturally both girls responded the only way they could. with hysterical laughter. "Bwhahahaha! Oh my god!" May laughed, taking out her phone and record his pathetic display. "Don't you have ANY fucking pride as a man?" Kari asked sneer, and took out what Courtney realized was HIS phone and was taking pictures! Still he couldn't get himself to stop right till Kari put her left foot on his face, mashing it against his nose lightly, till she kicked and knocked him on his back. "enough you little loser! now sit the fuck up and be good or we'll toss you out early, and I'll send those picture I just took to ALL your contracts." The idea of his family and friends seeing him like this made Courtney wet his diapers a little and as he sat up, though it was hard, he managed to control himself as they tugged the dress on him. naturally it didn't even come close to covering up his massive diapers and his 'mommies' helped him stand up and made him strike pose after pose in his shameful outfit. It was of course Kari who had the next evil idea, and she took Courtney's photo id card and tapped it to the back of his diapers so when he was crawling everyone would be able to see who he really was. May, not wanting to be outdone brain stormed then smirked. "Ok loser, time for you to get a whiff of one of your mommies, lay back down so I can sit on your stupid face and smother it with my bubble butt. And you better stay still or I'll have to unleash my 'poison gas' attack." She chuckled. "Ugh, listen loser, if you make me have to smell her farts your in for it!" Kari warned. "oh come on Kari, we both know with the kinda total loser Courtney here is.. He'll sniff and huff up all my ass gas." may snickered and then with the loser on his back, she plopped down.

Courtney found himself in total darkness as the bubble butt of May covered his face, but she wiggled around and made sure that his nose was lodged between her cheeks. She had also made it so he couldn't spit out his paci, and so the only air he could get was tainted by the smell of her crack. 'ugh! does this bitch even wipe?!?' Courtney thought and squirmed a little under the bubble butt. He only squirmed for maybe all of 2.5 seconds but true to her word, May unlessed a fart right up poor Courtney's nose, making the sissies eyes water. that however wasn't even the worse of it as his diapered crotch took a kick from Kari, not hard enough to really hurt but clearly a warning. he could of sworn she was saying something but with his whole world experience now being the bubble butt of a trainer he'd had a crush on for ages, he couldn't make it out. Trying to appease May and there for Kari before things got too out of control he wiggled his face a little differently, giving May's ass a Eskimo kiss. "oh my god! he's making out with my rotten ass!" Squealed may in delight, laughing. "..really? guess he really DOES love huffing farts. so no fucking excuses! huff better!" Kari growled and lightly tapped Courtney's balls with her foot again as a warning. A series of poots later and Courtney huffing as hard as he could lead to the sissy blacking out.

Courtney came to a little while later, but he was locked in a high chair and was being force feed some sort of awful bland paste. with his arms pinned under the tray and his wrists shackled anyways, all he could do was whine and whimper and swallow the muck as he looked over to where Kari and May were browsing Facebook..what a second, HIS Facebook! "Oh wow, who'd of thought a sissy baby dweeb like him could HAVE so many friends." Kari said. "eh, he likely just friended every hot girl and guy he could find so when he worked himself all up they could all see what a baby he is. Oh, he went to high school with that one." Mat said, then jabbed at the screen and happened to look over her shoulder. "Oh hey stinkerella! About time you rejoined the party. me and Kari kept ourselfs busy and made sure not to turn off the clock so you could pay for nothing for a whoooole half hour~" Courtney tried to protest though his feeding gag, and nodded at the computer. of course he couldn't get any words out as his tummy filled up and started to crap. "Hmm? Oh! well we both know you wanna fill your diapers to the brim and waddle home sobbing in shame and semi broke...buttt since we're not letting you spurt your gross sissy milk me and Kari figured you deserved a little bonus. We know a guy or two who are computer wizards and with your personal information it wasn't all that hard to find your Facebook and hack into it." May said bright and chipper. Kari turned around and smirked. "So we talked about it and decided while outing you to five of your friends online is normally a very costly thing, we'll toss it in for free for you JUST because we think SO much of you." Both girls laughed at that while a red faced Courtney shook his head no even as his dicklet throbbed yes in his soggy diaper. "Awww, do you not want out gift?" May asked looking hurt. "how rude! here we are being kind and it's not enough for you?!?" Kari huffed, looking pissed off but playing a role and noticing how the high fiber paste was almost all in the sissy now. "Some sissies are just SO greedy!" May complained, also hamming it up. "but fine, if just five of your friends finding out about what a diaper shitting sissy baby LOSER you are isn't enough for you..we can always do a public post. buttt that's gonna cost you the rest of the session." Kari said. Courtney's eyes went wide as saucers and he shook his head no over and over again even as the last of the paste went in, only pausing as May came over. she unhooked the feeding gag and wiped Courtney's mouth and smiled. "Now, tell the truth little one. do you really not wanna be OUTED to everyone you know, seen as the loser sissy baby you are?" She asked, leaning down and talking into his ear and patting the front of his diapers. Courtney went toi answer no but it came out a whimpering moan as his soggy diapers were mushed and played with, his 'dinner' already wanting to come out the back and fill his diapies. "Hmm? I dunno Kari, did that sound like a 'don't post me!~' to you, or a 'I'm a stupid loser, ruin me!'?"May asked. "I'd say a little bit of both." Kari said, and was hooking up her camera to the computer, and started to make the post, making sure to use pictures of Courtney they had taken THAT date, with a date stamp in case Courtney tried to claim later they were old pictures. "I'll tell you what Princess..I don't really trust a dumb sissy baby who's about to shit himself to tell the truth.. so we'll go by what your cock says. If you can keep from going goo goo gaga till you crap your huggies, we'll call off your Facebook outing. but if you go cum cums before then..Cliccccck~ your famous!" May said and giggled ever so sweetly and Courtney whined and squirmed, just having May this close and everything else had him at the bursting point! "D-Deal!" he squeaked out. "Not like you had a choice, but good to know your on board." May snickered.

Moving the high chair over took some effort, but it was a labor of love so it was worth it. Of course that love was of money and ruining boys, but it was still love so May was sure it counted. Maybe. Truthfully May wasn't sure if Courtney would actually make it. Normally she'd of bet on his cock head going off first but the boys guts were stuffed and this was the extra powerful stuff that Poison ivy had cooked up in her lab. May had had a tea spoon of the stuff once and hadn't been able to stop shitting for a hour! If she was a betting woman (and of course she was) May bet that the only thing keeping the sissy from messing was the tight confines of the high chair, but even that wouldn't help for too much longer. Courtney was mostly ignoring her to stare and whimper as Kari arranged the photos and made sure it was only ever Courtney in the shots, before starting to type out a heart felt message 'from' Courtney to his FB friends.

'Just so everyone knows, I'm not now, nor have I ever been a man, let along a boy. Nor am I a women or a girl. i'm not transgender, I'm just a little whimpering sissy loser humiliation junkie who gets off pooping and peeing in thick massive diapers while dressed like a baby girl. I've decided to take the ultimate plunge and hope that all of you, no matter HOW much I beg and whine, refuse to let this go away. Hugs and kisses Little sissy baby Courtney (formerly stupid stinky Curt)'

Reading the message over, Courtney was jerking back and forth in his high chair, Moaning and whimpering though whether he was trying to cum or trying to crap himself, that was a question May doubted even Courtney knew the answer to. "N-No..Please..Ugh..Don't..don't.." The sissy whined, bubbly farts escaping and May gagging and pulling away, holding her nose. "whew! I am SO glad we're not gonna have to change him." May said. "tell me about it..not even Tai is that toxic and he licks toilets for a living." Kari groaned, getting two clothes pins and handing one to May. "P-Please.." Courtney whined, clearly one mess or anther was about to happen. "Look here loser. you got till the count of three to make one or the other, Or you're getting posted anyways." Kari said rolling her eyes. "W-what?!" the sissy cried out. "oh, we should try and keep him from cumming then if he's gonna be posted anyhow." May commented. "I don't think we can, once he's posted he's gonna blow his load regardless. they ALL do." Kari said, basically ignoring Courtney now. "That's true..eh, fuck the countdown then." May said and took the mouse from Kari and clicked post.

Courtney's eyes were wide again, and filled with tears as he saw himself in all his shameful glory posted on line. the sight and seeing everyone who was online was too much and his cock head twitched like crazy and he grinded his diaper as much as he could as he blew load after load in his huggies, with his rear opening up unable to hold back. as the front was painted with sissy milk, the back was filled with mush that filled the room with a nasty stink. the girls were saying something, and he was dimly away they were letting him out of the chair as he kept filling but the world was like in slow motion to him. it wasn't until he was tossed outside and landed with a gross splat on his diapered behind his mind snapped back and he caught a purse as Rika tossed it to him. "Thank you for trying our services. we know you'll be back baby gurl. you got nothing else now.Change your diaper first though and bring more money. Courtney hiccuped and whimpered, aware of the scene he was making and everyone looking at him, at how he smelled.. and did the only thing he could. He nodded and bowed. "Yesh aunt Rika." he lisped and started to walk back to his hotel room. "Hey! what did I tell you? your a fucking crawler!" She called. Courtney, having nothing left, just nodded and got on his hands and knees, where a stinky pay pig sissy baby like him belonged.

the end

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

Erik and the reader in the middle of fucking and the reader tells him, “Erik, I wanna have yo’ baby, please”

“Erik! Up here!”

Erik looked up into the VIP section, his friend with benefits aiming her camera into his face.

“Smile for me!”

He flashed her a smile, all that gold in his bottom row teeth gleaming.

“Thank you friend!”

Erik shook his head away from her, going back to his drink and his group of guy friends. Y/N was dragged along with Erik’s occasional fuck buddy and friend from child hood, Draya. She wasn’t down for coming at first but Draya practically begged her ass to join so she wouldn’t be the only girl there with a group of guys. Plus, she needed some help rounding these niggas up since they were drinking every single bottle brought to them empty. Y/N tried to keep her eyes off of Erik, really tried. She still wasn’t over the way he fucked her the last couple of times. She was afraid Draya would take notice, maybe smell Erik on her.

“You good, girl?” Draya asks, shaking her hips to Drake- Nice For What.

“Yes, just tired,” Y/N didn’t get one look from Erik that night. She wanted him to look her way, she really wanted those eyes on her. She assumed it was because of Draya.

“It’s cool, sis, Erik was checking you out the minute we stepped into this bitch.”

Y/N stopped dancing, covering her face with embarrassment. She really wanted to go now.

“Why are you acting so ashamed? Y’all fuck?”

Draya held nothing back. Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a seat on the couch within the VIP section. She was thankful that they were in a club, everyone focused on the loud music and drinking.

“Girl, you ain’t gotta act like that with me, Erik dont owe me shit. We’re just friends who fuck around from time to time.”

Y/N stared at Draya. She sounded sincere and had a confidence in the way she spoke that made Y/N believe her.

“Girl,” she shook her head, taking a sip of her drink, “I know y’all had sex. Just tell me.”

Fuck it. Might as well admit to it.

“Yeah.”

“You dont have a man I don’t know about do you?”

“No.”

“So then what’s the damn problem?!”

Y/N wanted Erik to be her man for sure. It was the way he attracted other women. He had this sexy allure and he wasn’t even trying. The shit drove her crazy. He gave off this vibe were anyone wanted to be near him and be like him. She wanted him balls deep in her pussy. That man fucked like he was born to fuck. She wanted him to cum all in her...

“Fuck, you are hooked.” Draya was all laughs.

The minute Y/N looked away from Draya, she caught Erik’s eye. The bitch dancing on him didn’t even matter. She was shaking her ass all on him and Erik wasn’t paying her no mind. Y/N liked that shit. She liked it a lot. He didn’t look away for one second, didn’t even blink. Y/N’s breathing was getting a little heavy. She took the rest of her drink to the head, feeling Drayas hand on hers to bring her attention back to her.

“I can understand, sis, he fucks with so much power. Who am I to deny some top shelf dick to another woman? Erik likes to fuck. It’s just how Erik is. You know. He make you scream his name and ask for his baby yet?”

“Um...” Y/N leaned back and squinted at Draya.

“You sure you aren’t whipped?”

“I love it, any woman would love good dick, but Erik isn’t the man for me. We’re good the way we are.”

“I don’t see how you can fuck him and not want more! He drove me crazy twice and you just straight up casual with it like his good dick don’t have a serious effect on you.”

“How did Erik fuck you the first time? When did it happen?”

Y/N did not need this. She really didn’t need the entire image to pop up in her head like that. But now that it did...whew. Erik wasn’t playing with Y/N.

Erik was staying at Draya’s about a week ago on a Friday night. Draya was working late at the strip club as a bartender and Y/N was off that night so she stayed home to study for finals. Draya and Erik had some wild ass sex a few hours before and now he was stretched out on her bed, sleeping wild and wrapped in the covers. Y/N had to walk past Drayas to get to the bathroom. She stood in Drayas door way, looking at Erik’s sleeping body. He was sleeping on his back, that thick as fuck dick print bulging out of the sheets. He slept so damn pretty. She could still remember the way he looked at her earlier while they sat around eating pizza in the living room. She was like Drayas little sis. Draya was about 6 years older than Y/N and so was Erik.

She needed a hot shower just from admiring him. The inner hoe in her wanted to go in that room, lift the covers back, and see that dick up close. Maybe put it in her mouth and see how it tastes. That would wake his sexy ass up for sure. Y/N made it to the bathroom, slightly closing the door to let some of the steam out. She stripped down out of her ex boyfriends basket ball shorts and wife beater, nothing on underneath. Y/N opened the cabinet that held all of her and Drayas hair products in it, grabbing her silk Louis Vuitton scarf to wrap her TWA. Y/N turned on the shower, making sure it was extra hot to burn away the nerves that tingled from thinking about sucking Erik’s dick.

She pulled the black shower curtain back, stepping inside. The water was the perfect amount of hot and it was actually working. Even scrubbing her pussy under the water didn’t make her think about Erik. Y/N leans out of the shower, grabbing her phone to put on her R&B playlist. Tory Lanez new album played, Y/N going back to scrubbing her body down. While she was scrubbing her ass cheeks the bathroom door could be heard opening and then the shower curtain was pulled back roughly. Standing before her, with a towel around his waist, was Erik himself. He looked just as shocked as Y/N did, covering her body as best as she could but she only had two hands and a lot of ass, titties, and a pussy.

“Shit-I-I-I thought you were Draya. Shit-damn-fuck, I thought you were Draya,”

“Shit, she got pulled into work at the last minute!!” Y/N slaps her forehead, one of her titties falling from her hand. Erik’s eyes were zeroed in on her breast, watching the hot water hit it.

“Fuck,” Erik didn’t hold that one back at all.

“What?” Y/N has her breast again, backing away a little. She was growing hot and it wasn’t the water. He was all prepared to shower and everything. She could only think about that dick right now...

“You got some big titties Y/N.”

“Um, E, I don’t think...”

“Why not,” he held her gaze now, “You don’t want me to see them? I can walk away. I mean, it’s a little too late for that shit I know exactly what Draya little friend got going on now, Mhm.”

That Mhm had her closing her eyes.

“Look.”

Y/N opens her eyes to find Erik without the towel around him. She felt oxygen deprived. Holy Shit. He was really really nice down there. All long, thick, veiny, smooth, chocolate, nice heavy balls, and hairless. She had never seen nor had a dick like that. Ever. No wonder Draya fucked Erik from time to time when she felt like it. Just call Erik up if you wanna feel dick in your spine and guts. Call him up if you wanna he bed ridden for about 24 hours. She didn’t know how long she was staring, but Erik didn’t stop her. He waited for Y/N to pick her jaw off the floor and speak.

“Umm,” she finally broke away, looking back up at Erik with nervous eyes, “It’s-its really nice, Erik.”

“You want some company?” He says all low and tantalizing.

Y/N crossed her legs, pressing her hands further into her breasts, “Erik,”

“How long Draya been gone?” He asked with a raised brow, looking over his shoulder then back at her.

“For about an hour now.” Y/N trailed her eyes back down to his dick again.

“See? That gives us plenty of time to play.”

She bit into the side of her bottom lip, “Play?”

“Yeah,” he smiles, “freaky play,” His voice got even lower, drawing her in, “Don’t you want me to play in that pussy, Y/N?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t going to lie. They both knew she wanted him to. All those looks, all the times Y/N caught Erik leaving Drayas room in the middle of the night after hearing them fuck. It was only a matter of time before Erik had Y/N as well.

“Okay, turn around.”

Y/N finally let go of her breasts, walking towards Erik and turning around. She placed her hands on the shower wall, looking back at Erik while he admires her wet mocha skin.

“Bend over, pretty girl.”

Y/N arched against the wall, poking her wet juicy ass out at Erik. Erik’s hands on her skin set a flame within her. He was so gentle with the way he massaged her cheeks. That all changed when she felt him smack her ass. It was sudden and alarming but she liked it. She’d never been spanked like that before. Now, he had his fingers on her pussy, moving up and down all slow and soft. He was working her wetness all over her pussy. She almost fell forward when his thick fingers pulled her pussy lips apart to rub all in there.

“Mmmmmuhhhhh,” she moaned.

“You loving that I see.”

“Yes, I love that.” She responds with difficulty.

“You really gonna love this.”

He got down on his knees, Erik burying his face in her pussy. She let out a sharp moan, reaching back to hold both of her cheeks open. Her feet slipped a little along the shower floor, making a loud squeak sound but Erik had her legs now, using his mouth and strong jaw to ear her slit. She tried to look back at it but her body was so weak. Now, he wrapped his entire mouth over her pussy, moving around and around, pulling and sucking and slurping on her. She was a heavy squirter so Erik was definitely covered in it for sure. Now, he was moving his tongue on her clit, Y/N’s moans and pleads growing louder and louder over her music.

“You got a phat wet puss, Y/N.” He was French kissing her clit now, “You just letting me eat this pussy. You gonna let me eat it until Draya get here? I’ll let you sit on my face and cum in my mouth. Use my mouth, baby girl.”

“Fffuuuk. You are...so nasty.” She was cumming, unable to control herself as she definitely used Erik’s mouth.

“Mmm, THATS IT. Use me, Bitch.”

Now, Erik was to his feet again, hand around his dick, pre cum oozing our in a long string down to the floor. He opened his slit, showing Y/N the rest of his pre cum before taking his thumb to smooth it all around. If it looked that tasty she could only imagine how his cum tasted.

“It’s so damn big.” Y/N says with disbelief.

“Say that shit when I’m in there deep.”

Erik rubbed his dick up and down her pussy, covering his dick with as much of her wetness as he could. He knew he needed to work her up to it. But he was also ready to bury himself in her velvety walls because she was damn tight.

“I just wanna beat your shit up, ma. You gonna let me beat it up real good, even if it’s too much? Once I’m in there that’s it I ain’t gonna wanna come out.”

That made her heart flutter. He was really making this moment even better. At this point, she didn’t care if Draya came back home. As long as Erik’s long thick dick was in her, she didn’t give a fuck about anything else.

“Fuck me, please?” She asked with desperation.

“You asked so nice and sweet I gotta do it for you, pretty girl.”

Erik finally let his dick rest at her entrance. He pushed forward, his head slipping inside first, that alone splitting her open. Then, his shaft squeezed in too, trying to make room for all ten inches of him. It was going and going and Y/N didn’t think it would ever end. It hurt so good though. She gasps when he was fully in, his balls smacking her clit.

“Please fuck me,” she begged. Y/N was holding onto the railing in the shower now. Erik pulls all the way out to the tip of his dick, before sinking back inside. He did this over and over until Y/N was dripping to the shower floor; literally. Now, her pussy was making squelching sounds, his dick sliding in and out like she’d been lubbed down heavy. He picked up the pace, watching her face to make sure she reacted to what she was feeling, sure enough, Erik had her making so much noise. She was talking nonsense and gibberish.

“You’re a slut for letting me fuck this tight pussy. Got this pussy so wet, fuck, keep wetting my dick up!”

“Erik! You got my pussy dripping!” Her eyes closed, face smashed against the shower wall. He was really giving her heavy back shots in that shower. Had her ass bent over and taking his dick. Erik couldn’t hold back how much he was loving it. She was so damn tight and super soaker wet.

“Make me cum, please? Make my pussy cum all over you, please, please, please! Ahhhhhmmmfuckkkkk!!!” She gave him a silent scream before cumming on his dick.

“SHIT! Take it, slut, take it, take it-fuck!!”

Erik pulled out, cumming on her ass and pussy lips. He was shooting out ropes of cum, the most he’d cum in a minute. And it happened before he wanted it to. His impressive cum load made Y/N smile, her fingers reaching behind her to grab some of it, tasting the sweet cum. He must eat a lot of pineapples....

——

“Damn, in the shower?” Draya had low lustful eyes at that damn story. Y/N was even turned on. She didn’t even give all the details for that first time. He made her sit on his face and he fucked her again from the back on her desk chair with her ass poked out. He was fucking her in a circle since it swiveled, her window all open and she was sure people could see and hear.

“What about the second time?” Draya was full on in story time mode. Y/N looked over towards Erik and noticed that him and his boys were still in party mode, dancing and rapping to the music.

“You better not go home rubbing your pussy to this, Draya!”

“Shit, I just might,” she laughed into her cup.

Y/N scoots closer towards her, curling a single finger for her to come here. When Draya did, Y/N laid it on her....

——

Erik came back over another day when Draya was out. He specifically made sure of that because he didn’t need his home girl knowing that he was fucking her “little sis”. He grabbed the spare key from over the top of the door, opening it, satisfied to hear Y/N moving around in the kitchen. The minute he walked inside, he was blessed with the sight of Y/N wearing a pair of white cotton panties that looked painted on, a pink bra, and that cute curly TWA out. Her skin was so damn smooth and chocolate. It reminded him of maple syrup. She tasted like syrup too.

“Hey, beautiful.”

She was startled, turning towards him with a jiggle of her ass.

“Erik?!” He could see a shiver run up her spine.

“You cooking something,” He tried to see what she was up to.

“Just, mushroom Alfredo.”

He was hungry too. He could get some good pussy and some food. That was a plus.

“You gonna feed a nigga? I’m gonna be here for a while if you know what I mean,” he gave her a big dimpled grin.

“No, I don’t know what you mean.” She tried to play it off.

“You do,” Erik walked up on her short frame, making her turn towards him.

“You’re brain working now?” He was bending lower to bring his face close to hers. She looked from his nose to his lips, licking her own.

“E,”

“Shhh,” he pressed his finger against her mouth before rubbing her lips, “I know your still hungry for me, shit, I know I want you that’s for damn sure. And I came here to get it. You’re gonna give me that pussy, Y/N.”

“Fuck,” she gave him a defeated look that only made him happy. He kissed her neck, dragging his hands down her back and under her ass, lifting her up and to her bedroom. Erik was so damn generous when he fucked. He was really into kissing and he was really good at that shit. He had Y/N sopping wet with his tongue and lips on hers alone. Finally, in her room, Erik places her on the bed, Y/N getting on her knees in front of him to undress him fully. She had her lips parted, eyes on her every move with each piece of clothing that fell. Now, he was standing before her fully naked again. She ran her hands up and down his body, memorizing every muscle, scar, hair, and birth mark. She especially liked the birthmark he had on his abdomen. She licked it, causing Erik to hiss.

“Grab my balls and squeeze it with those soft ass hands,” he demanded. Y/N did what she was told, squeezing his hairless nut sack. His eyes fluttered shut, hands reaching out to caress her shoulders.

“You have such a pretty dick, Erik,” she was nibbling on her lip.

“Oh yeah? What you love about this dick?”

“It’s so long and thick, Daddy. Such a fat head and a fat sack. It’s so much dick daddy I don’t know if my mouth could take it all but I’ll try, Daddy.”

“You nasty bitch, let me take this shit off you.”

Erik hovers over her short body, unclamping her bra and lowering her panties. She left a big ass wet spot in her underwear. He was sucking her nipples now, flicking them with his tongue too. Now, he was placing soft kisses on her belly while his hands flicked her hard nipples, enjoying her soft moans. She was driving him crazy.

“You got me ready to eat this pussy again. Look at you,” He was between her legs, his lips kissing her pussy softly.

“You’re so delicate with a nice tight pussy I gotta give you soft wet kisses.”

“Fuck, you got me so wet,” she spread her thighs, sitting up on her elbows.

“Let me hear it,” Erik whispers.

She takes her fingers, sucks on them, then puts them in her pussy. She wiggles her fingers around in there while giving him an erotic look. Erik could hear it alright. It was so damn loud in that quiet room.

“How does it sound? You hear it?” She was all in her pussy. Three fingers deep.

“Oh, I hear that pussy. Got my mouth watering.”

“Eat me, please?” She brought her fingers to her clit to rub.

“You are a nasty little slut. Playing in this tight pussy and begging me to eat it and fuck it. You must want me to have you dick whipped and begging for all this dick and cum, huh?”

“I want you to cum in me.” She opens her pussy lips, “I wanna have your baby, please?”

“What the fuck,” Erik closed his eyes, his dick harder than it already was, “You want me to make that belly full of my cum? You nasty bitch.”

“Cum right in here,” She opened up wider, bringing her legs up to show him where she would love it, “Right in this tight wet hole.”

“FUCKKK-shit don’t make no sense how nasty you are. Draya know you’re this kinky? Goddam.” The tightening in his balls was too much and it let him know that her nasty talk was about to make him cum alone. Erik smacks her hands away from her pussy, replacing it with his mouth. He munched on her slit like he was a starving man; like pussy was the last meal on earth. She was weak beneath him. Her eye brows were scrunched, lip between her teeth, moans loud.

“Make me cum, make me cum,” she shutters, “make me cum, make me cum...”

She was blown away, hands in his hair, pussy driving into his mouth, sweet pussy juices flowing. He nibbled on her pussy until she was clean and ready for dick.

“I’m cumming in you.” Erik knew she was straight, he’d cum in her pussy deep.

She was overwhelmed with lust. He could cum all he wanted in her she was protected. She’d never told a guy that at all until Erik fucked her. Shit was bizarre but she liked it. Erik on the other hand was used to bitches telling him that, his dick was that good that they wanted him to risk it all. This would be his first time risking anything but Y/N was so damn addictive. Kinky and freaky.

“Oh, fuck, that fat dick!”

He was digging in her sweet pussy. She had her legs over his shoulders, Erik pounding away inside of her. She was good around his dick.

“Damn, girl, I’m loving this pussy!” This was only fuck number two.

“I love your fat dick! It’s so fat and long and oooooooooh it’s so deep in me! fuck me until you buss, daddy. Buss in me.”

Erik places his fingers in her mouth, his eyes watching the way he fucked her. Her cream was making a big ass mess in the sheets. She twirled her nipples for him, pulling them and making them bounce too.

“You want me to shoot this cum all inside of you? Huh? You nasty bitch. You want me to cover this whole pussy with all of my nut? Huh?”

“Oh, Daddy, yes!!” She could feel Erik folding her body some more. He was over her even more using the strength of his hips to stroke in her pussy. Looking from behind a lucky person would have the nastiest view of Y/N’s pussy being drilled.

“You fuck my pussy so damn good, yeah,” Y/N was in shambles.

“Ima FUCK this pussy good whenever I please.”

The thought of Erik fucking her whenever and however had her cumming on his dick again.

“Oh shit-oh FUCKKK, you...got me...cumming.” Erik was lost in the moment, his eyes never leaving hers, that helpless look from being dicked down on her face.

“You the baddest bitch on the planet!” Erik told her between intense strokes.

“OhmyGoddd! Your cumming! I can feel that dick pumping! Oh, Daddy, it’s filling me up! Yes!”

Erik was indeed cumming inside of her. She milked him dry with her tight walls.

“More, I want more,” she begged.

“You draining me,” Erik was fucking defeated. She milked him dry with her pussy. She had the type of pussy to wife her up. Y/N was the truth.

“Let me suck your pretty dick.”

Erik slips out of her, watching Y/N arch on the bed with her phat ass in the air, making her cheeks bounce on purpose with all his meat in her mouth. She had those cheeks all sunken in, her eyes blinking up at him innocently. He was gonna cum again.

“You pretty little slut. I just wanna cum on your face.”

“Cum on my face,” she encouraged.

“And then what? You gonna lick it all off yourself?” Erik could feel his balls retract, his nut right around the corner.

“I’m your little cum slut.”

“FUCK Y/N!!!”

He shot his load all over her face. She caught some in her mouth but damn, Erik gave her a face paint. The sight alone had him jerking his dick to get more cum to spurt all over her.

“Shit, I hope Draya dont come home no time soon, I’m not finished with you yet.”

Y/N was more than ready.....

——

“WOW.” Draya was open mouthed and shocked.

“I know,” Y/N lets out a shaky breath before finishing off her new drink.

“If Erik Don’t make you his girlfriend, something is wrong.”

She could only hope he wanted that. Y/N moved her eyes back over to him, he was staring straight at her. Those eyes said it all. He wanted her right now just the same. Y/N licks her lips at him, making him bit down on his lip. There was no need in being discreet, she wasn’t ashamed to be fucking that man too.

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @moonlight-night-sky @eyeknowmywrites  @crowngold @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney  @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @bugngiz @palmstreesallday @skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo​ 

[talesfromthesnogbox]

Stuck Here With you

Rating: M (Rating for explicit conversations about sex) 

Words: 3,586

Summary: Richie and Eddie are stuck quarantining themselves together... what could possibly go wrong? OR based on this tweet: "@cjkasulke: APPARENTLY you have all just been *waiting* for this moment to confess your love to your roommates, so many of you live with people you have been silently in love with for y e a r s"

Notes: This is so stupid. Yes, I wrote a quarantine fic. Yes, this whole thing is a serious matter and I am an adult who's working from home and it all sucks, and there are people dying all over the world, and I do care, but I just thought people needed a little bit of a laugh, ya know? Anyways, this is wildly out of character and not good in general, but drop a comment if you like it, or if you think I'm a horrible person, whateves.

AO3

*~*~*~*~*

Richie woke from his catnap with a startled jump as he heard the front door slam shut.

“Jesus Eds, is it 6:30 already? Did I sleep all day?” He asked with a laugh.

“No asshole, it’s noon.” Eddie slammed his briefcase on the breakfast bar and worked his tie open. “This pandemic bullshit has gotten out of control.”

“Is that why you’re home right now…”

“Yes! Jared that fucking lunatic went off and brought some girl home last weekend and now he’s got a fever, so we were all sent home, and I’m stuck in isolation.”

Eddie was pissed, but Richie could see through his thinly veiled layer of anger; there was fear.

“Oh. Do you hang around Jared a lot at work?”

He sighed. “No, no I don’t, but it’s just a precaution until he can get tested properly.”

“That’s good then, right?”

It was good. After seven full days, Eddie finally emerged from his room with a cheery smile. “Jared’s in the clear, turns out he just picked up some STD, and I get to go back into work tomorrow.” He plopped down on the couch.

“That’s great Eds, but I hate to break it to you…” Richie pointed towards the TV where the headline read “California officially shut down”.

The first few days felt like any weekend would. They had extra groceries delivered, they binged some true crime documentary on Netflix, they had a group Skype session with the Losers, they did pretty much anything that took their minds off the current situation. But then the fifth day hit.

It was only 7am when Richie dragged himself out of bed for a coffee. Sure it was early, and he had nowhere to be, but time meant nothing anymore.

Usually Richie’s clamoring about the kitchen woke Eddie up. The first few nights that Eddie moved in after Derry were rough; turns out, Eddie was a pretty light sleeper, and Richie was loud. But today, there was no Eddie in sight.

He continued on his way, pouring himself a bowl of cereal when he saw it through the window to his backyard… and promptly spilled milk all over the counter.

On the bright side, Richie had found Eddie. The only downfall was he’d found him in a pair of tiny running shorts and a tank top doing squats on his deck.

“Fuck!” Richie swore, grabbing a tea towel to clean up the mess he’d made.

“Richie?” Eddie stopped his squats and ran into the house. “What the fuck happened dickwad?”

“N-nothing, nothing happened, it’s just early and I lost my grip.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“So um… what’s happening in the backyard there, Jillian Michaels?” Richie giggled.

“Fuck off. I usually go to the gym before work, but now that the gym’s closed, I had to improvise.”

“Ahh, I see, trying to pick up the new future Mrs. K with…” with thighs I want to wear as earmuffs and that tight ass? He was glad there was an entire counter between them to hide the fact that he was currently at half-mast.

Eddie gave him a strange look and shook his head. “Shut the fuck up. I’m a divorced 40-year-old living with his best friend, I don’t think I’m going to be picking someone up that easily at the gym. Besides, Santa Monica women aren’t really my type…”

“Oh? Well when this is all over, I know a few places we can go pick up chicks. West Hollywood, Beverly Hills, hell even Studio City. Name your type Eds, we’ll find her.”

“Aren’t you gay? How do you know so much about picking up women?”

“Closet case my boy.” Richie winked and took a bite of his cereal. “I’m as good of an actor as I am a comedian.”

“No wonder there were never any articles about how much of a playboy you were then.” Eddie said straight-faced, walking back out to finish his work out.

“Eds gets off a good one!”

*~*~*~*~*

After that eventful morning, Richie tried his hardest to stay in bed until after Eddie’s morning routine was done. One almost-embarrassing situation in his pants was enough to last a lifetime around his best friend of however-many years, he did not need it to escalate from there.

As the days passed on, the two of them found ways to entertain themselves. Eddie took to reading on the deck in the mild April weather, and Richie decided to pick up his guitar again for the first time in years.

He was a little rusty, but after a few hours of practice, it was like riding a bike, and before he knew it, he was back playing the tune he’d spent hours playing as a teenager.

Richie hummed along to the tune of “Eddie My Love” as his fingers formed the familiar chords with ease. He didn’t even realize Eddie walking in from the backyard, a stunned look on his face.

“Rich?” He jumped, startled at the sound of the other man.

“Hey Eds, sorry was I being loud?”

“N-no.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know you played.”

Richie chuckled. “Yeah, I picked it up in high school after Went agreed to teach me a bit. I was in a band in college, but we kinda sucked.”

Eddie scoffed. “You don’t suck, that tune is lovely. What is it?”

Richie’s face felt hot all the sudden. “Uhh, I can’t really remember the name, just something I used to play a bunch. It’s an oldie my mom really liked.”

“Can you teach me?”

His eyes widened. “Y-yeah, here, come sit.” He moved more away from the body and more towards the neck of his acoustic, allowing Eddie to sit nestled between his folded legs. “Okay, um so you hold it like this, and your fingers go here.” Richie curled Eddie’s fingers around the neck of the guitar, placing them in the correct spots on the frets. “So we start with a G chord.” His other arm snaked around Eddie’s shoulder to show him how to strum the chord.

Eddie shivered, completely engulfed by his best friend, noticing for the first time how much he loved his arms being wrapped around him like this.

“Then we move to an E minor.” Richie shifted Eddie’s fingers again and strummed. “Then A minor, and up to D.”

Eddie moved his fingers, pliant beneath Richie’s big hand. His heart beat fast, and he could feel Richie’s breath warm on his shoulder as he played.

For a moment, Eddie could convince himself that Richie felt the same way about him, but only for a moment. They were best friends, and just because Richie was gay, it didn’t mean he was interested in Eddie, no matter how hard he wished that he was. He would never have Richie, but he’d always have this moment.

*~*~*~*~*

“Alright, that’s it. We’re getting drunk.” Richie pulled out a rather large bottle of vodka and a few other spirits. “I’m mixing you up a quarantini.”

“A what now?”

“Quarantini, Eds. We’re getting shitfaced.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Rich, there’s no way in hell I’d—” he paused. Maybe this was the perfect way to come on to Richie. Lowered inhibitions were a great excuse to do something potentially stupid, and if it all went sour, he could blame it on the alcohol. “You know what, fuck it. Mix me a quarantini.”

“That’s the spirit!” He mixed the drinks and dragged Eddie over to the couch. “Alright, we’re indulging tonight. I want not a peep from you. I never got to do any of this gay shit before, and now is the perfect excuse to start a new series. We’re watching RuPaul’s Drag Race.”

Eddie nodded his head. “Drag racing, okay cool, I like cars.”

Richie burst out laughing. “No asshole, drag race… like drag queens.” He popped on a random season and hit play.

Four episodes and many quarantinis later, both Eddie and Richie were yelling at the TV.

“How could they send April home, she’s like the hottest one there!” Eddie put his hands up.

“Right? Look at how hot he is ugh I just wanna…” Eddie glanced over at Richie with a smirk. “Shut up.”

“No, no, I see it.” He pulled out his phone, April’s instagram profile already loaded. “The scruff is driving me mental.”

Richie chuckled. “Eds, that sounds kinda gay.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” Eddie said, face heating up. “Um, surprise?”

“Oh… shit dude, yeah, um, congratulations. Thanks for telling me.” Richie brought his friend into a tight hug, the alcohol running through his system making him feel a little light headed.

“Thanks for being cool about it.” Eddie mumbled, pulling away a bit, but still resting within Richie’s grasp.

“Hey man, I get it… I’m a closet case too.” He laughed.

The two were silent for a moment, content in each other’s grasp, until Eddie couldn’t handle the silence anymore. “Come on, next episode. I hope Laganja gets booted, I can’t stand her.”

Many episodes and quarantinis later, Eddie was fully shitfaced.

“Come on, bedtime for Eds.”

Eddie giggled. “Yeah Rich, take me to bed.” He waggled his eyebrows in a way that made Richie’s heart stutter.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough from you.” Richie deposited Eddie onto the bed, helping him with his shirt, when Eddie pulled him down hard.

“Oops, sorry Rich.” He giggled. “’s not my fault, you’re trying to get me out of my clothessss.”

“You’re wearing jeans, I can’t let you go to bed in jeans Eddie. What kind of asshole wears jeans in quarantine.” Richie giggles, undoing Eddie’s zip and pulling his jeans down his hairless legs. Fuck, his legs are amazing. “Eds, do you wax?” Richie giggled, rubbing a hand up his thigh.

“Pffftt, we’re in isolation shithead, I haven’t been to my wax girl in weeks.”

A jubilant laugh bubbled from Richie’s chest. “Shit, I’ve learned more about you tonight than I have in all the years I’ve known you. You really are a twunk.”

“A what now?”

Richie planted himself down on the bed beside Eddie. “Twunk, hunky twink.”

A look of realization dawned on Eddie. “Ohhhh, that makes a lot of sense. The dude at the checkout told me I was a twunk when I went to buy those underwear without the butt.”

Richie’s brain went blank. “Eddie, do you wear thongs?”

“No asshole, the other thing without the butt. Jock something, I can’t remember.”

“A jockstrap? Eddie are you trying to kill me right now?”

“Shut the fuck up asshole! They’re good for working out in. And they don’t give me lines in my nice suit pants.” Richie was speechless. “So if I’m a twunk, what are you?”

“I—I—I think it’s time for bed.”

“Oh.” Eddie said sounding dejected. “O-or we could just hang out?”

Richie was at an impasse. He knew they were walking a thin line right now, and he shouldn’t stay, but he wanted to see where this would take him, he didn’t want to leave Eddie’s side.

“I think I could hang out for a bit.”

Their “hanging out” didn’t last very long. Within ten minutes, the two men were out cold.

Richie woke up first the next morning and left the soundly sleeping Eddie to go make a pot of coffee. His head was pounding, and as much as he knew the bright sunlight was going to burn his eyes, the fresh air couldn’t hurt.

He’d never been more thankful for his manager who also happened to be a fantastic decorator. The outdoor couch may have seemed stupid to him when he first bought the place, but at times like this, it was a great choice. He could relax, and look out towards the ocean, and forget everything that happened the night before.

That is until Eddie decided to join him.

Richie’s breath left his lungs once he got a good look at his friend. It was like a blast from the past seeing him in a pair of tiny red running shorts, much like those he wore when he was a kid, but now… now they were so much more. Richie’s mouth watered when his eyes caught a good look at how Eddie’s ass filled out the shorts. A large tank top donned his torso, one that Richie had been gifted, and definitely not been too comfortable wearing himself judging by how low cut the arm holes were. He looked hot, not that he wasn’t always attracted to Eddie, but this felt like something had changed, a sexual awakening of sorts, and Richie would never look at his friend the same way.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungover.” Eddie complained as he sat beside Richie. “That stupid drink went down like water.”

“Yeah man I hear you, I feel like shit.”

“I had fun though, it’s been a long time since I’ve had that much fun.”

Richie looked over to him. “No regrets about spilling your guts then?”

Eddie winced. “Okay, maybe you didn’t have to hear about what kind of underwear I prefer.”

Richie burst out laughing. “No, I definitely appreciated that tidbit of information, Eds. I’m proud that my twunk theory was right.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself you coward.” Richie mumbled to himself.

“Sorry, what was that?��

“N-nothing.” He said, darting inside. “Going to work on my new show, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Richie had to get out of there. Last night was a lot, sure, but something felt different today. Seeing Eddie in his boxer briefs felt almost safer than whatever the hell he was wearing today. It’s almost like… almost like he’d purposely dressed up for Richie, and it was killing him. He didn’t know how much more he could take before he combusted.

Unfortunately for Richie, this new look seemed to be Eddie’s new uniform. Richie could tell that now Eddie was out to him, he felt more comfortable being himself, but Richie hated every second of it.

He dreaded seeing Eddie in the morning, dreaded knowing what fresh hell lay beyond his bedroom door in the form of a 5’9 firey bundle of sex personified.

Nearly a month into their quarantine, it was finally warm enough for Richie to sit out by the pool. He donned the brightest swim trunks he could find and rubbed his pale skin down with sunscreen, soaking up some vitamin D.

He’d been out there for just under an hour when he heard (and felt) a splash from the pool where Eddie jumped in.

“Okay, I take back everything bad I ever said about you having a pool when the ocean is right there. The pool is definitely more relaxing than the beach.”

Richie giggled. “I told you, asshole.”

“Oh, and I totally figured out what you are now. If I’m a twunk, you’re an otter.”

“A what now?” Richie removed his sunglasses and moved to sit on the edge of the pool.

“An otter.” Eddie rested his elbows on Richie’s thighs as his calves framed his torso. “At least that’s what I think. It’s like a softer bear. You’re not quite as big and not enough hair to be a bear, and you’re still too thin to be a cub, so you’re an otter.”

“I understood exactly none of what you said except for ‘bear’. I met a bear on Grindr just before Derry that made me realize I like being the bigger body in bed.” Richie winked saucily.

“So you’re a top then Trashmouth?”

Richie’s brows rose into his hairline. “I—I—we are not talking about this right now, not when you’re this close to my dick.”

“Oh come on, you used to talk about your dick all the time.”

“Yeah, I was a closeted kid who’s balls hadn’t dropped yet, obviously I wanted to come off as heterosexual as I could.”

Eddie laughed. “Okay, good point.”

The two sat in the same position for a few minutes, exchanging no words between them. It felt intimate, it felt like Eddie was flirting with him, but he’d never been good at picking up signs. Could Eddie want this too?

“I am though.” He said quietly, finally breaking the silence.

“You’re what?”

Richie’s heart thudded in his chest. “A top, I guess. I don’t mind bottoming, I like it, but I guess I just…”

Eddie grinned. “You like being in charge?”

“No, fuck no.” Richie laughed.

“Really? Huh, okay.” Eddie nodded, mostly to himself.

“Hey, what the fuck does that mean?”

“Nothing, nothing at all Tozier.” Eddie pushed off of Richie’s legs and floated on his back towards the inflatable lounger.

*~*~*~*~*

The week that followed was agonizing. All Eddie wore was those stupid shorts and a variation of t-shirt/tank-top/fucking crop top, and it was driving Richie mental. He felt like a teenager again, he’d never had so many hard-ons in one week in his life.

It was only a matter of time before Richie snapped.

Richie was descending the stairs from his room one fateful morning and groaned rather loudly when he saw what was waiting for him.

The shorts seemed shorter, tighter on his ass (damn all those squats he does) and his already short shirt seemed to rise up, showing the lovely dimples on his lower back as he reached for a bowl from a high shelf.

“Hey Rich, can you help me… what’s wrong?”

He huffed out a laugh. “What’s wrong? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Wh—did I do something?”

Richie stared at Eddie in disbelief. “Did you… did you do someth—the shorts man, what’s with the shorts!”

“The shorts? I always wear the shorts.”

“I fucking know you always wear the shorts, that’s the problem!” Richie’s stomach rolled. He thought he was going to throw up, he’d never been this candid about his feelings in his life.

“You have a problem with the way I dress? Fuck you, dude.”

“Fuck me yourself you coward!”

Both men fell silent. The tension could be cut with a knife, it was so thick between them.

“Richie?”

“Fuck man, I’m sorry I freaked out on you like that, I just don’t know if I can take this anymore. We’ve been cooped up for a month and I swear I’ve done more jacking off in the last month than I ever did as a teenager.” As good as it felt to spill his guts, he definitely thought he was going to pass out any second.

“I—I don’t…”

“The worst part is, it’s not even just that I’m horny. It’s you! Shit man, I’ve been dreaming of you since we were fucking teenagers. And now… now here you are looking like a goddamn… a goddamn what’s the word… a goddamn snack, telling me shit about the sexy underwear you buy, and asking me if I’m a top. Eddie, I don’t know if you’re flirting with me or not, but Jesus fucking Christ, it’s taking every single fiber of my willpower to not rip your clothes off right now.”

Eddie held back a smile. “Wait, I’m sorry, what? You couldn’t tell I was flirting with you? Are you fucking blind? Actually don’t answer that, I know you’re fucking blind.”

Richie was sure he was gonna get a nosebleed any second. “S-so you were flirting with me?”

Eddie laughed out loud. “Yes you idiot! Literally since the moment I got here, I have been flirting with you. You didn’t get the hint that I have feelings for you?”

“What the fuck, no man! Like you said, I’m fucking blind. I thought you were straight until a few weeks ago!”

Eddie moved to lean against the island, closer to Richie. “You dumbass, I tried so hard the night I came out to you, why do you think I told you about what fucking underwear I wear?”

“I don’t know man, I’m not good at this shit.”

“Clearly!”

Richie cast his eyes down. “S-so, so you really like me?”

Eddie reached for his hand and interlaced their fingers. He pulled Richie closer to him, so he was pinned between Richie and the island. “I love you, dickwad.”

Richie huffed out a laugh. “I love you too.” He blinked rapidly, looking up towards the light. “Oh god, why am I crying.”

“Get over here you big baby.” Eddie detangled his fingers from Richie’s and brought his hand up to the other man’s cheek, bringing him in for a kiss. It was sweet, it was chaste, it was everything Richie wanted from Eddie when they were younger.

But he wasn’t a teenager, and he wanted more.

He dove forward, tongue clashing with Eddie’s. It was hot, it was toe curling good. He snaked his other hand down Eddie’s side, curling around his hip and moving to squeeze his ass. Eddie groaned and ground himself into Richie’s thigh.

“Fuck.” Richie said pulling away. “Fuck, how are you so hot? We’re fucking forty man.”

“Me? Dude, look at you. Your arms… your chest…” Eddie snaked his hand under Richie’s shirt, scratching at the smattering of hair on his pecs.

“Jesus man, I’m not gonna last… fuck… bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

*~*~*~*~*

The two men finally emerged from Richie’s bedroom for dinner later on with kiss bruised lips and satisfaction plastered on their faces.

“Anything good on?” Eddie asked as Richie turned on the TV. “Rich?”

Richie laughed. “You better come see this.”

“QUARANTINE LIFTED” The headline read as news anchors happily recounted the fall in new cases, and the rise in recoveries.

“You’re fucking joking.”

[browntownsquantos]

Hey Gloominati, I’ll be posting excerpts from my tour diary, as we snake down the west coast towards New Mexico on our current tour. 

Day 1: 

Seattle rehearsal day. 

Arriving for rehearsals at the turner compound is always an adventure. Of course it involves air travel, but then it usually involves a ride share and a boat to Aaron’s private island. While Nate and Steve chose to downsize to tiny amps and singular guitars on tour, I’ve decided to gloom the other way and UPSIZE. I used to bring just cymbals and a pedal, but I’ve decided the “brown sound” is too integral to Gloom, so I’m bringing my whole kit. I checked in my hardware, because I’m not nuts, but I traveled with the rest of my kit as a carry on. TSA was fine, they just wanted to make sure I wasn’t taking any produce into Washington state. In typical fashion though, the gate agent was a real NARC. She made me gate check both my floor toms, my 24” kick, my snare, and my cymbals. Lame. I got to bring my rack tom as a carry on though, and my new gong as my “personal item”. 

I opened and checked my shit upon landing, and some baggage handler dildo definitely set my shit up, as my tunings were all off. Nate and Steve were a little annoyed that I set the whole kit up in the baggage claim, but hey, gotta make sure I’m ready. I even made a few bucks from passers by when I played the album Christmas in its entirety to make sure shit was solid. 

We called a ride share, and homie was not stoked to have to strap it all to the roof of his Prius, nor were the other 3 people in the Uber pool we got who had to wait for it all to be secured. Not my problem. 

Once we got to the ferry station in Seattle, and we handed an ancient golden coin to the hooded ferryman, we started the long trip across the foggy water. I made chit chat with the ferryman, asking why he preferred a long stick over a motor, but dude was not responding. I caught a glimpse of his face under the long black robe, he looked methy as fuck. In fact, he didn’t seem to have skin. Anyway, I know aaron is a sucker for the theatric, so I didn’t think much about it. 

We landed on Turner Island, and Aaron was waiting for us on the other end. He served us some undressed salad and uncooked dry pasta for lunch, and it was off to rehearse! It was uneventful, like most gloom practices, a lot of testing out different pedals, dialing in of the sound, and me taking a ton of selfies while I’m waiting for something to fucking happen. We ran through some AC/DC covers, the intro to No More Tears, and the Nightcourt theme, then decided we’re tight enough and called it a day. 

As we always do after practice, we took a 4 man shower. We have this down at this point, but Steve being the new guy, he has to be at the end. Caleb was a master at being the tail in the shower, he could do some precision scrubbing with his little hands with such dexterity, it was incredible. Steve did ok, for being so young in the band. Nate didn’t seem to get his hair completely clean, but Steve’s learning.  Since Aaron and I founded the band together, we take turns being “second hand jimmy”, which is the name of the person who’s second. The sweet spot is the front, you get all the hot water and don’t have to scrub anyone. I love it. Those eight strong stringed instrument hands  scrubbing my little brown body is heaven. I hate being second hand jimmy though, scrubbing aaron. It feels like he’s covered in tick infested Brillo pads. Yuk. At least I’m mostly smooth and hairless, with the feel of a ziplock  bag full of margarine. Poor Nate, or 3rd place Nate, as we call him. Anyway, we air dry by doing jumping jacks, and off to dinner!

Dinner decision conversation is transcribed below:

Old man gloom sit at stools around a butcher block island in the center of a typically modern and minimal kitchen. 

Aaron- What do you guys want for dinner. The options are Thai, pizza, or hipster new American. 

Santos- Can we do old American, like before we made this country “great again”?

Aaron - Can someone else start talking right now so he can’t keep talking? Santos - I’ll just keep talking while everyone else is talking, because i’m a child.

Nate - You certainly look like a child. Well, no, your face looks old and like a leather bike seat that’s had two decades of ass on it, but your funny little body looks like a child. Steve - Guys, this isn’t productive. Santos has a neat body, it’s like a little fire hydrant! Tiny little arms, and really hard to move! Aaron - I like to imagine a car hitting his little  hydrant body, like in a car chase movie, and he just kinda falls over and pee’s in the air, instead of the fire hydrant spraying a water geyser in the air. Santos - Wow. You like to imagine me getting hit by a car? Nate, Aaron, Steve - YES. 

Santos - Wow. Is this because I made our band into an internet clown car?

Nate - No. We like that, we just don’t like almost anything else about you. 

Steve - Nate…That’s not cool. We like a lot of things about him!

Aaron - Name 3 things WE like about him.

Steve - He got us all those Chipotle gift cards from that Chipotle Corporate fan!

Nate - Nope. He was going to keep all of them until we busted him. Santos - Absolutely. I earned those. They were mine. I stand by that. 

Steve - Ok. Fine. Well, the margarita singles mixer at roadburn was pretty fun! Aaron - No it wasn’t. I had to take him to a 24 hour clinic in holland because he got drunk and insisted he got gonorrhea eye from making some poor fan give him eskimo kisses. 

Nate - That dude did have weird eyes. 

Santos - Thank you. 

Aaron - Then why are you making fans give you eskimo kisses? Santos - Because i’m a romantic. 

Steve - Well, what about when he got you those personalized pajamas by starting a kickstarter, Aaron? Aaron - Yes, that was awesome. The synthetic fabric gave me a rash, and now I get a pajamagram catalogue in the mail every 3 days. Perfect. 

Steve - Fair. Well, he always eats all the leftovers no matter how old the are? Nate, Aaron, Santos - Agreed. Santos - Sooooooooo…….New American? 

Aaron - Great. 

Steve - Great! Nate - Do they do breakfast all day? 

Stay tuned for day 2, Vacnouver!

[malereflections]

Thumbnails of My Edgy Interests

Occasionally, my interests and fantasies include some things at the margins of the sexual landscape. Here are some thumbnail sketches of a sampling of these. The post is rather long, and is divided into subsections with appropriate subject headings so you can pick what you want. You will probably be surprised by what you read.

Initiation  - I am being initiated into an all-male secret society. The initiation is carried out at night around a raised alter deep in the dark woods. There are a dozen or so hooded, robed figures surrounding the altar. They pass a metal goblet into which each contributes a small amount of urine. As the initiate, I am led to the altar where my robe is removed by the high priest, exposing my nakedness. I am given the goblet to drink. Then, I am laid out on my back on the altar so that my head bends down over the side, and my legs are spread and my ankles are secured in stirrups. The high priest offers up some incantations, then loosens the front of his robe revealing a massive hard cock. He takes me deeply and pounds me mercilessly until I feel his hot seed deep inside me. He walks around and inserts his ass-fresh, cum covered cock into my mouth for me to clean. Another member steps up and also takes me with his cock until he too, fills my bowels. He also uses my mouth to clean him, and the process repeats itself until all members have had their turn. A large butt plug is then inserted into me to retain the cum.

Jacuzzi - I enter a specially-designed Jacuzzi with three other guys that has knee pads and seat-belt like straps on the sides centered on a nozzle jet. Two guys face the jets, two face away. I start out facing toward the jet on my knees. The knee pads are adjusted so that my sensitive cockhead is right in front of the nozzle. I am then strapped tightly to the side, as are the other guys, and the pump is turned on. I cry out at the exquisite pleasure caused by the jet. It is so intense that I practically lose control of myself. It is not too long until I am shooting ropes of cum into the boiling water. I am moved to another station, standing in a deeper part of the pool, facing away from the nozzle, and bent slightly forward. I am positioned such that the jet is aimed right at my anal orifice, and I am again strapped tightly in place. The pump is started, and the jet blasts against my opening. I hold my anal sphincter tightly closed against the liquid assault as long as I can, buy eventually, it tires and relaxes. I groan as the high velocity jet blasts into me and floods my bowels. Soon I am distended, and mercifully the pump is turned off much to my relief. I realize that the water in the tub (and inside my ass) is now mixed with cum from the other guys.

Donkey Ride - I visit a special dude ranch, catering to male only clientele. One of the activities involves a private, guided burrow ride down into a deep canyon over a steep, rough trail. The saddle has a large, erect male dildo affixed to its center. When I mount up, the dildo is lubricated, and I am assisted in lowering myself (totally naked) slowly down onto the 8-inch long phallus until I am fully impaled. Once in the saddle, my feet barely reach to the stirrups such that I am unable to stand and raise myself up off the saddle. We move out, and I try to suppress my groans as the motions cause me to rock in the saddle with each step. As we descend the steep trail, the motions throw me violently back and forth and up and down in the saddle. I can contain my pleasure no more, and I moan aloud as I reach my first of several anal orgasms. That evening, I am taken to the barn where the burrows are kept, bent over a bale of hay on my stomach and restrained, then mounted and penetrated by a male burrow, who extracts his reward for a day of service. Now it is time for the burrow to signal his pleasure with loud baying that echoes down the canyon. All of those in the camp recognize this bay.

Symphonic Stimulation - I am restrained and blindfolded, and connected to an electro-stimulation device, with one electrode connected to a conductive anal probe, and the other to a rod inserted several inches into my urethra. The control unit is synchronized with music, with the intensity of the electric pulses proportional to loudness, and the frequency of the pulses proportional to tempo. It is turned on and I am left alone to enjoy the music from a long symphony, and the indescribable pleasure. My unintelligible groanings are drowned out by the music.

Canine Encounter - I am dressed in animal skins, with only my head and my ass uncovered. I am made to get on my hands and knees with my stomach and chest resting on a short padded bench, to which I am restrained. Concentrate of urine from a female dog in heat are liberally applied to my shaved asscrack. I am blindfolded. Shortly, the door opens and I hear what sounds like a large dog enter the room. I hear panting behind me and feel the touch of a cold nose to my ass. Suddenly, the beast is on my back with his legs locked on my sides. I feel the stabbing of his hard wet organ, probing, searching…then he hits home, and I moan aloud as I am deeply and relentlessly impaled by the rapid thrusts of his massive red phallus. His large knot forms inside me, and we are locked as he floods me with his canine seed.

Bed Boy - I am the guest of an important official in a far-away land with a different culture, and have been invited to spend the weekend at his secluded estate. Upon retiring to my room for the night, there is a quiet knock, and I open the door to find a servant with a scantily dressed, young prepubescent boy. The servant urges the lad into my room and tells me he is compliments of the master, for my companionship and enjoyment. Without saying anything, the boy removes his short robe, climbs onto my bed, and strikes a seductive pose. He is small but beautiful, with long blonde hair, smooth hairless body, and undescended balls. He would be known as a catamite or  puer delicatus, an exquisite or dainty boy-slave selected by his master for his beauty as a sexual partner, dating back to Roman times. I know for me to refuse such a gift would be to insult the master.

I remove all my clothing and join him on the bed. He has obviously been coached on what to do to please a man, in every way possible. His little cock stays hard, and even though he is too young to ejaculate, he can experience intense boygasms. I give him many of these with my mouth. His bubble butt and puckered orifice are what dreams are made of. My mouth waters for the taste of his hole. I take him into my arms and proceed to ravish him repeatedly, filling his mouth and his tight ass with my semen, and enjoying the pleasures of man-boy love throughout the night. He quietly slips away at daybreak. In the morning my host asks how I slept. I smile, and try to hide a yawn. He knows, and says he is glad. The next night there is another knock on my door. It is a different young boy, but same outcome. This continues every night of my visit.

Hungry Calves - I have heard that nothing sucks like an hungry calf. I make arrangements to visit a special farm, and in one of the barns there is a sling suspended from the rafters. I climb into it and lie on my stomach, and my host secures me to the sling so that I am immobilized. There is a small opening through which my cock (now hardened with Viagra) and balls descend. I am suspended with the bottom of the sling about 4 feet off the ground. My host applies dairy crèam to my genitals. He leads several hungry young calves are led into the room, then locks the gate, leaving me alone. I moan aloud as am relentlessly milked by the calves until I empty my hot milky nectar into their incredible sucking mouths. Unsatiated, they continue to suck me to a multiple orgasms.

Quenching Thirst- I lie on the bed slightly propped up by a pillow against the headboard. My nude lover climbs up over me, straddling my head on his knees. He inserts his semi-erect cock into my willing mouth. Our eyes lock as I await his special present. Suddenly, my mouth is flooded with hot salty liquid and I consume the entire contents of his distended bladder. Not a drop is lost. Then, I suck him and drain his manly balls of their pent up load.

Polishing the Knob - I am stripped naked, and tied spread eagle on the bed on my back, blindfolded and gagged. Several large pillows are placed under my hips to elevate my middle so I am in a reverse curve. My Viagra fortified cock is constricted by cords tightly wrapped around the root and balls to keep it swollen and rock hard. My partner climbs onto the bed on his knees, grasps my shaft, and using the lubricated palm of his other hand, proceeds to “polish my knob” with much energy. He uses several motions, all of them aimed at my sensitive swollen cockknob. I writhe uncontrollably on the bed at the intense pleasure, pulling against my restraints, screaming into my gag. The sensations are too intense to bring an orgasm. But, he gives no relief, other than to vary the motions, teasing me. Finally, he changes to a stroking motion and gives me a much needed climax. But instead of stopping after I ejaculate, he goes back to polishing my knob, using mu cum as a lubricant. Once again I am writing and screaming as he continues to stimulate my  cockhead, which is now very sensitive.

Fist and Arm - I am naked and positioned on my back in a sling suspended from the ceiling. My wrists and ankles are secured up above me with my legs spread wide. A small boy, also naked, stands  between my legs. A lubricant has been generously applied to his hands and arm. He slowly begins to force his hand into my rectum. I groan and grimace from the discomfort as my anal muscles are stretched. He does not relent until my ass has consumed his hand. He makes a fist and continues his forward motion until he is up to his elbow. He then begins to plunge his fist and arm in and out like a piston while he strokes my cock with his other hand. I am crying out in pleasure and straining at the harness. I am completely out of control as my orgasm builds. Suddenly, I explode and my anal muscles contract in powerful spasms, gripping his arm as my cum shoots all the way up my chest.

Exposure - Periodically I have to feed the exhibitionist in me. I stay at a somewhat sleezy motel with external corridor access, when family vacations are not in season. Late at night, I crack open the window curtain, just enough to see into my dimly lit room. I then shamelessly exhibit myself engaged in sensual play on the bed wearing erotic black lingerie, impaling myself on a large male dildo. A shadow passes by the window, then returns and briefly lingers. I know he is there, watching me. He vanishes. In a few moments I receive a room-to-room phone call. I know it is he, even before he speaks. I ask him if he saw anything he liked. Of course he did. Want to see it up close? Yes. Then, come on by, I’ll leave the door ajar. He wastes no time. I return to the bed, continuing my shameless show. He is quickly naked, and joins me on the bed. I give myself to him. No more words are exchanged, except for my moans and sensual whispers, begging in the most explicit language for him to take me.

Anonymous - When I engage in receptive anal sex from a guy, I take him bare, all the way to his ejaculation, for all of the typical reasons. In the heat of passion, we don’t want to stop to take time to cover up. He may lose his focus and erection when doing so. Also, the pleasurable sensations are much greater with bare skin. But, more importantly, it is the indescribable satisfaction of taking a man’s hot seed deep inside. Of course, understanding the risks, I try to be selective and careful when engaged in such activity. This caution is usually not possible in certain settings (adult bookstore video booths or gay spas) with multiple anonymous partners.

In a typical scenario, I am in a booth with a sizeable, elongated opening in the partition with the adjacent booth. Of course, I am naked, as I always am in such a setting. I check out the guy in the next booth, who is also naked. He is muscular, tanned, bald, heavily tatooed and pierced, with goatee. He is stroking his cock, which is unusually large and fully erect, and has a thick cock-ring piercing the flanged head. I beckon him over to the partition, and he slides his magnificent member through the opening. I immediately take him into my mouth, as much as I can, and begin to suck him. Anonymous cock is so good.

I stop briefly and slip a very sheer and thin condom on him. I turn around and back up to the opening, bending over and positioning his engorged knob at my hungry, pre-lubed opening. I back up further, my sphincter yields, and he penetrates deeply until he is bottomed out. I back up so my ass is against the partition, and he begins to thrust his cock into me like a powerful piston. There is no stopping. I want it, and he knows it. I am groaning, and the partition is shaking, so everyone in the hallway would know what is happening. Finally, he slams into me, and I can feel his hard phallus jerking in uncontrollable spasms, over and over, as he ejaculates a flood of hot manseed.

When the spasms cease, he slowly withdraws, I turn around, and to my utter surprise and shock, the end of the condom is torn open, and his large cockhead is bare and uncovered, still dripping with cum. He has bred me in stealth. As he backs away from the opening and turns around, I see among his many tatoos one in the small of his back depicting a toxic symbol, that of a poz gay man. I have not only been bred, I have been seeded with toxic fluid.

Stepdaughter - I generally consider myself mostly gay, except when it comes to my stepdaughter, who is drop-dead gorgeous. I think she likes to tease with her tight, skimpy clothes. When she is at home, she sometimes leaves her underwear on the bathroom floor. This time I have a rare find of a thong that has a heavily stained, crusted crotch and skid marks. I am alone, so I strip and lie back on the bed with her thong over my head and face so I can inhale her pungent scent and suck in her heavily loaded vaginal and rectal secretions as I jack off. My orgasm is particularly powerful as I imagine myself eating out her wet pussy and tonguing her tight asshole. I shoot my load into the padded crotch of one of her clean panties, so that she will wear my cum against her hot little cunt.

Punished

- I am a member of a Satanic male coven. As part of my usual obligations I must visit the local temple each week and go to confession and take part in expected rituals, including the sacrament of sodomy and the sacrament of communion (shared chalise containing cum and urine). Confessions  take place in a confessional booth with the supplicant naked. Depending on the nature of the offence (sin) and the degree of contrition, the priest will pronounce absolution, and require an act of penance. Usually, this act of piety involves giving oral sex to and receiving anal sex from the priest through an opening in the wall of the confessional. The act is concluded when the supplicant receives holy demonic semen from the priest. In the event of a mortal sin (such as participating in a Christian service), severe punishment is needed to restore the offender’s place in the coven.

Having committed such a sin, I am led naked before the brotherhood to a raised platform. I am placed on my back, and my legs are pulled up over me, then spread wide apart, fully exposing my genitals and ass. My arms and legs are secured in place, so I cannot move. I am completely vulnerable. A thick towel is placed over my face. The priest recounts the sin and pronounces the sentence. I am to receive six lashes, one each from six different brothers. The first is handed a multi-thonged leather whip (like a cat-o-nine tails). He stands before me between my wide-spread legs with my ass facing him. He brings the whip down between my legs with great force, aiming at my genitals and asscrack. I scream as the thongs tear into the sensitive flesh of my cock and balls. At first I thought I would try to contain my screams, but soon find I have lost all control of my utterances as well as my body. I writhe uncontrollably against the restraints, to no avail. As one after another brother repeats the punishment, I continue to cry out at the searing pain. Between each lash of the whip, I must recite the words, “Satan, forgive my sin.” My asscrack, cock, and balls are soon covered with beet-red lash stripes.

By the end, I am reduced to a whimpering, shaking, form. Then, to finish the punishment, each brother in turn stands between my legs and pisses on my fiery genitals and ass. The hot salty liquid only makes my wounds burn even more. I am eventually released and allowed to recover.

Gloryhole -- I manage a small rental house with semi-detached garage. Just inside the side door of the garage is a closet with a door. I cut a hole in the door of the appropriate size and at the right height for a gloryhole. Occasionally, when the house is vacant, I advertise on Craigslist, offering anonymous blow-and-go services after dark, and continuing into the night. There are no longer any adult bookstores with video arcades having doors and gloryholes, so mine is the only option for those who have an interest in such activities. The responses vary, but I end up orally servicing several guys on any given evening, of all ages and sizes. Of course, I eagerly swallow all their cum (the best part, and my reward). Usually, at least one will put his finger through the hole, indicating a desire to reciprocate. Depending on the lateness of the hour, I will usually accept the offer, and slip my drooling cock through the opening and into the warm, wet mouth of the one whom I had just sucked off. I love emptying my pent-up load of semen into the mouth of a complete stranger, almost as much as I love taking theirs into mine.

Forced 69 - I am placed on my side in a 69 position with another guy. We are each made to take the other’s cock fully into our mouths, with our lips around the root and our noses against the other’s ballsack. Our bodies are bound together (chest to chest), and our arms are wrapped around behind each other and tied at the wrists. Our legs are pulled up in a fetal position with our heads between the insides of each other’s thighs, and our thighs are then bound together just behind our heads. In this way, it is impossible to pull away from the other’s cock. We have been fully hydrated, and given full strength Viagra. An electro-ejaculator is inserted in each of our rectum’s, with the bulbous probe resting against our prostates. These devices are designed for use with stockyard male animals, including bulls, to obtain semen. The anal sphincter muscle clamps down on the small extension just behind the enlarged probe, locking it into place. The probe features electrodes through which flow electricity at a special frequency and intensity. When energized only slightly, the tickling current produces an erection. When fully energized, the device lives up to its name and causes the animal to experience a powerful and prolonged orgasm with ejaculation. It is 100 percent effective (guaranteed), and cannot be resisted.

The first electricity begins to flow, and the sensations are so pleasurable that our cocks quickly become aroused. With our lips held firmly against the base of the other’s cock, there is no where for our erections to grow except into the back of each other’s mouths, eventually resulting in a deep throat condition. We have to be careful with our breathing so as not to gag as the other’s cockhead enters our throat. The Viagra ensures that our erections and full and sustained. The electrical energy flowing into our sensitive prostates is gradually increased, ultimately causing us to groan and go into uncontrollable orgasmic spasms as we explosively ejaculate copious amounts of hot semen down each other’s throat.

This process will be repeated several times over an extended period as the electrical current is cycled up and down. Of course, by this time, the hydration has worked its way through our systems, and our bladders feel like they are near the point of bursting. We hold off as long as we can, but finally, following another ejaculation (which by now is just a dry heaving orgasm, since our seminal vesicles have long since been emptied), the floodgates burst forth and we drain the hot, bitter contents of our distended bladders into each other’s stomachs.

The Apes - While on a business trip to sub-Sahara Africa, I have been taken and held prisoner by a group of native exotic animal smugglers. As a past-time, they have raised a group of male apes with a special talent. These apes have been selectively bred to have larger than average penises (most apes have rather small cocks). In addition, from adolescence, they have been trained to copulate with a naked white human, first with dolls, than with the real thing. Upon successfully mating, they are generously rewarded with their favorite foods. Any attempt to harm the victim is severely punished.

The behavioral modification is so strong, that as soon as they see a naked, white human, they immediately respond with powerful erections and precum, which drools from the tip of their cocks, much like a dog will drool in anticipation of food. The dominant male ape, usually the largest, has first claim to the prize. When he is finished, the next highest ranking ape takes the victim, and so on. After the second one mates, it becomes a free-for-all, with the remaining junior apes all vying for a chance to breed the human. Adult apes are much stronger than any human, so physical resistance is useless. Crying out only urges them on.

I learn that I am to be the weekend entertainment, both for the apes, and for the natives. I am led to the ape compound, up some steps, and out a narrow bridge to the center. The apes look on with interest, together with a gallery of natives seated around the top of the wall. When my clothes are removed, the apes become very animated and vocal. I can see their large, red-colored erections projecting out from their black fur. I am put in a basket, and lowered by rope to the floor of the compound.

The apes gather around, looking at me with lustful stares. Suddenly, I hear sounds behind me and in an instant, the powerful furry beast is upon me. He pushes me to the ground face down, spreads my legs, raises my bare white ass, and begins to hump me, stabbing my furrow with his drooling phallus. After a few misses he hits home, and plunges his massive member deep into my virgin ass as I cry out in pain. The crowd of natives cheers upon hearing and seeing my deflowering. His powerful hips thrust against me, impaling me repeatedly on his hard rod. His loud grunts are mixed with my own moans, partly of pain, but more and more of pleasure. Finally, with a loud roar, he drives forward and floods me with his hot animal seed. This again brings cheers from the gallery of spectators. He pulls off, and I roll over on my back.

The second ape wastes no time, and he is quickly upon me. He climbs over me, spreads my legs, and begins humping me as the first had done. I wrap my legs around his stocky waist and lift my hips to him. His shaft finds my oozing orifice, and he drives it fully into me in one swift motion. The cum of the first ape is a natural lubricant, and I am once again uttering groans of pleasure as the ape fucks me with much passion. I find myself responding to the pounding with a series of anal orgasms. He signals his own orgasm with a powerful thrust and loud bellow. He withdraws, and I feel warm cum running out of my now-gaping opening.

As soon as he pulls off, two junior apes are over me, pushing and tugging for the opportunity to mate. I end up being sandwiched between them, and they continue their humping until both their cocks are inside me, causing me to cry out as I am stretched, much to the delight of the crowd. After the apes finish breeding me, they withdraw, leaving me as a helpless form on the floor. A couple of natives gather me up and help me from the compound. This is to be the first of many such events during my captivity.

The Church - I visit a church that is known for its services to the gay community. I choose a time that is set aside for confessions, and enter the private confession booth. I introduce myself, and tell the priest (hidden from clear view on the other side of the partition) that I have sinned, and I briefly explain my recent sexual encounter with another man. He wants to know more, so I give him a description of my experience, all in very explicit detail. He tells me that I will have to do penance, and that I will have to make a daily offering for seven days to demonstrate suitable contrition, after which I can be absolved.

I am to come to the church before sunrise each day, go to a room where I will disrobe and don a robe, then go to a small darkened chapel. There, I will approach the altar, light a candle, remove my robe so that I am completely naked, and kneel on the bench. I am to stroke myself while reciting a prayer until I ejaculate my offering of semen into a small challis that will be provided each day. I do so for six days.

On the seventh day, I approach the altar, remove my robe, and drop to my knees as usual. Only there is no challis. Instead, out of the shadows steps a robed hooded figure, who approaches and stands in front of me. He parts his robe to reveal a semi-erect phallus, which he begins to stroke right in front of my face. He tells me that my offerings have been accepted, and that he will grant absolution by giving me the consecrated holy seed of mother church, which I am to consume before him in a sacred ritual. After a few moments, he reaches behind my head with his free hand, and pulls me with open-mouthed onto his throbbing drooling rod, just in time to hear a gasp and taste several spurts of hot priestly seed, which I dutifully swallow. It’s good to feel forgiven.

Call Home - I am in the motel room on a business trip with a good friend who is a virile, insatiable top. I have enjoyed the last ten minutes on my stomach with my hips raised up on a pillow, being impaled from above and behind by his throbbing 7-inch mancock as I moan and grasp at the sheet. I roll over, spread my legs, and lock my ankles behind his neck as he mounts me again. Only now, we can enjoy prolonged kisses as he makes passionate love to me, pausing only to keep from cumming too soon. We are interrupted by the phone by the bedside. I have been waiting for a call from home, and I have to take it. I break off our kiss, and try to converse with my wife without moaning and gasping. My lover slows his thrusts, but continues unabated. When my wife begins a long description of some happening, I rotate the phone away from my mouth and turn back and resume the deep kissing. I break off our kiss occasionally to get in a quick “oohhhhh…” or “”hmmmm….”, just to hold up my end of the call. When the call finishes, I tell her goodnight and that I love her. After I hang up, my lover resumes with heightened enthusiasm, ravishing me with raw animal passion. There is no stopping now. His body motions between my legs bring me to a hands-free climax, which in turn triggers his own powerful orgasm, flooding me with his hot seed. 

Frozen Cum - I have a newly retired friend and widower who is a habitual, compulsive masturbator, often jacking off three or four times over the course of a day. Due to my home situation, it is difficult for me to get free to meet him very often as I would like. So, he saves up his cum, freezing it until he has 4 to 6 ounces. When we meet at a restaurant for coffee or lunch, and he will slip me the frozen cum. When I have some private time alone. I will strip and inject the thawed cum into my ass using a large syringe. I will then vigorously fuck myself to orgasm with a large male dildo, using his cum as a lubricant and pumping it deep into me. The dildo is covered with a white, sticky lather as it plunges repeatedly into my hungry ass. After I climax, I slowly withdraw the dildo, bring it to my mouth, and suck off the cum residue.

Coming of Age Ritual - I am researching a lost tribe in a remote area of Africa. I make contact, and speak to them through my interpreter/guide. I am particularly interested in coming of age rituals for young adolescent males of the tribe. The boys of the tribe wear little clothing, only a small loin cloth. The are friendly, but are most curious about me. I am larger than the natives, and stronger, probably because of nutrition.

As night falls, I observe an older native departing the camp on a path, followed shortly thereafter by a boy. After a brief time, my guide beckons me to follow him along the trail. It is getting dark, but in the moonlight, everything is still visible. We stop just short of a clearing, In the center of it is a post to which the older native is tied. He is blindfolded, on his knees, with his back against the post and with his hands and ankles tied behind the post. He is aroused, and his erection is enhanced by a tight cord around the base of his balls and cock. A young boy (looks 10 or 11, but probably older), also naked, approaches him on his hands and knees, and without touching the older native, takes the cock into his mouth and begins to suck. It is clear that he has been coached, since the older native is moaning with pleasure under the oral assault. Soon, the native strains against the restraints, cries out, and his cock begins to spasm as he unloads his African manseed into the boy’s mouth. The boy swallows, backs away, and stands up. He is very aroused as well. My guide quietly leads me back to camp, and explains the ritual to me.

The members of the tribe believe that desirable qualities of strength, prowess, and manliness (i.e., cock size) are passed on from older to younger male members through exchange of semen. Men of the tribe who exhibit these qualities are highly prized by the boys, and as a consequence are in demand. Passing of the semen is usually accomplished through fellatio (as in the witnessed case), but for more effect, it is sometimes passed through sodomy. A young adolescent male will repeat this ritual many times until he is admitted as one of the adult members of the tribe.

I ask how this happens, and my guide tells me that the youth will have a courier (a go between) deliver a leather necklace to the object of his desire. The recipient, who should be honored, will then go to the sacred clearing at dusk, accompanied by the courier, who is a eunuch, sworn to secrecy. It is considered very rude to refuse an invitation, unless the recipient is ill. In the clearing the man will disrobe, place the necklace around his neck, and kneel at the post. The attendant will secure him against the post on his knees and blindfold him. The man will therefore be unaware of who is servicing him, as it could be his own son. He will then rub the extract of a very irritating plant on his penis and scrotum, stroking his member until the irritation has the desired effect of producing a hard erection. The attendant then ties a cord tightly around the base, locking in the erection.

When the boy arrives at the place, the attendant disrobes the boy, has him get on hands and knees, and approach the man, facing the man for oral, and facing away from him and backing up to him for anal. Of course, for anal, the attendant also applies a natural plant lubricant to the distended and throbbing cock. The rest is as witnessed earlier. My guide pulled me close and whispered, that because of my physical size and shape, I would be desired by the boys as a potential semen donor. And, if my body size was any indication of my cock size, all the boys would want to take me to the clearing, multiple times.

The next day, while working on my notes, a native approaches, and without speaking, hands me a leather necklace. I am a little shocked, but not totally surprised. That evening, I go out the path to the clearing, and see the courier by the post. He has me strip completely, and get down into position. As described, I am bound, blindfolded, and prepared with the irritating extract. He strokes me, making me hard as steel. In a few moments, I hear some rustling, and the sounds of someone slowly approaching me from the front. Anticipating what is about to happen, I am very aroused, and my cock is standing up at a 45 degree angle. A thread of clear pre-cum streams down. The touch of a tongue on my oozing cockhead is electric, and my cock jumps in response. I then feel the tongue at the base of my cock, licking upward. I gasp as it slides over my knob. I’ve never wanted something so much. I groan loudly as my cock is consumed by the unseen boy’s hot, wet mouth. He takes me deeply, and starts to suck me with powerful oral movements. God, he is good. He continues his skillful art, unrelenting. Soon, I am there, and in a long deep groan that echoes through the forest (and probably back to the camp), I blast an avalanche of hot cum into the youth’s hungry mouth. He keeps sucking and swallowing, not wanting to lose a drop. Finally, my cock slips out, and I almost collapse, if it were not for the bindings. My legs are weak and quivering as the attendant loosens my restraints and helps me to stand up. When he removes the blindfold, the boy is gone. He gives me my clothes and goes with me back to camp. I try to hide my continuing erection as I pass by a few of the inhabitants and go to bed.

In the morning my guide greets me and tells me that word of my manly performance has spread through the camp, and there is considerable excitement among the young boys. Apparently there is a lottery system to select the next recipient. As soon as he informs me, the courier arrives, and hands me the leather necklace, with a wry smile. Everywhere I go that day, I am greeted with coy looks and smiles, as though they all know.

When evening comes, I once again make my way to the clearing, where the attendant awaits. I go through the same preparations as before as I await the next youth. I hear rustling, and someone approaching. I am startled by the touch of the attendants hands, applying a slippery cream to my distended cock. The rustling if much closer, and my cock touches what I suspect is the fleshly part of a boy’s ass. A small hand grips the base of my cock and guides my drooling knob to the special place. He backs up slowly until his tight sphincter yields and my cockhead penetrates his hot rectum. I gasp as he continues to push against me, and his tight ass consumes more and more of my length. I suspect that he has never had a cock of this size before, and it takes a while to adjust. But, he is up to the task and eventually, I am bottomed out, with my balls against his ass crack. He then begins to move, slowly at first, then increasing in speed and penetration. I moan with each wonderful thrust of his ass. His anal muscles are massaging me like nothing else, and I know I must be rubbing against his sensitive prostate. He can be quiet no longer, and he cries out using foreign words, but I know exactly what he is communicating. Both of us are approaching a climax, and he goes first, screaming in pleasure as his ass goes into uncontrollable spasms around my cock. It is too much for me, and I soon follow with a powerful, gut-wrenching orgasm, blasting hot Caucasian seed deep in his bowels. Once again, my loud, orgasmic groan carries through the forest, signaling the consummation. I am totally drained, once again.

This amazing and wonderful ritual repeats itself every night. Surprisingly, most of the boys want it in the ass, which thrills me to no end. I arrange to make a return trip in a few months.

Incubus Visitation

- I am fascinated by legends of erotic, spirit beings who come upon unsuspecting, sleeping people at night, male or female, and after rendering them powerless, mercilessly raping or sodomizing them. Though fascinated, I really never actually believed these things to be true. Anyway, I decided to go to over a long weekend a remote cabin at the edge of a swamp known for accounts of various ghost-like encounters. The cabin was rustic – no electricity, no running water, and no cell phone coverage. The nice thing is that I could enjoy being completely naked, indoors or out, and engaging in unlimited, kinky erotic play, vocally expressing my pleasure with no one to hear. I filled my ass with all sorts of dildos and prostate stimulators.

The first night was uneventful (other than my sensual play), and I was thinking even more that it was all hokey. The next day I went to the edge of the swamp and continued my sensual play, impaling myself on the phallus-shaped cypress knees, letting my load moans echo out through the swamp. During the second night, I awoke, realizing I was not alone, and feeling the weight of someone on top of me. I was face down on the bed, with my wrists spread and tied to the headboard posts, and a pillow under my hips. From what I could tell by touch, the being was hot, furry, and very muscular. I felt what I surmised was a rock hard and incredibly long sexual organ sliding up and back along my shaved ass furrow, lubricated by a thick, sticky sounding substance. It dawned on me what was about to happen. The slippery head pushed up against my puckered anal orifice, which yielded to the powerful invader. I moaned loudly as the beastly organ slid deeper and deeper into me until it bottomed out. The alien being began to thrust, slowly at first, then with animal passion, his powerful hips slamming up against my ass with each penetrating thrust. I was lost in erotic passion and pleasure, raising up my ass to meet his thrusts, feeling his hot breath on my neck. With an evil groan, he drove deep and began to spasm, releasing a flood of otherworldly seed into me, causing me to cum as well.

That’s the last I remember until morning. When I awoke, I thought it had surely all been a dream, until I noticed that my sore ass was still oozing cum, and saw rope burns on my wrists. I now believe.

Milked - I had discovered that my semen contained a very rare hormone that, when concentrated, purified, and taken, would contribute to one’s longevity. Obviously, such a chemical is extremely valuable, and potentially profitable. Despite medical records confidentiality, word of my test results leaked out to those who would stop at nothing to have this. I was subsequently kidnapped and held a virtual prisoner by the leader of a powerful drug cartel. Although I was well cared for, and lacked nothing physically, I was kept solely for semen extraction, and was subjected to once daily milking sessions.

In these I would be stripped naked, placed face down on my knees with legs spread and my chest resting on a low padded bench. I was then secured in place using Velcro straps. Over my hanging cock was slipped the receptical sleeve of what appeared to be a dairy milking machine. It was held in place by a cord back to a tight cock ring around the base of my cock and balls. Behind me, attached to an adjustable frame, was the probe of a bull electroejeculation unit (a contoured, elongated probe about 2-inches in diameter that is used to cause a bull to ejaculate for semen collection). The probe was lubricated, and slowly moved forward into my anus until I was fully impaled on it and it rested against my prostate and seminal vesicules, then it was locked in place. A video camera (with audio) was turned on, for the entertainment of anyone who wanted to witness the action on closed circuit TV.

The milking machine was turned on, and the sleeve started a reciprocating action on my cock as the vacuum was alternately applied and released. The electrical unit attached to the probe was energized, and the electrical pulses began to radiate through my groin as the intensity was gradually increased, bringing loud groans from me. The electrical pulses caused my anal and rectal muscles to go into uncontrollable spasm, and I pulled against the restraints. I was unable to resist my quickly growing arousal, even if I wanted to (which I didn’t). It only took a matter of 3 or 4 minutes for the equipment to accomplish its intended purpose with exquisite results, and I gave a final load moan as I went into a powerful, extended orgasm, filling the receptical with my sought-after liquid essence.

Often, after the equipment was removed, but while I was still strapped in place, the male attendant (who had won a wager among other attendants on how long it would take me to orgasm) would strip, lubricate his cock, and fuck me until he emptied his cum deep inside me, all captured, of course, on video. 

Tentacle Creature - While on a field research trip in a remote tropical setting, I am taken prisoner by a band of ordinarily friendly natives. I am stripped naked, and about dusk I am taken to a small clearing where I am tied at my wrists and ankles between two trees with legs spread and arms outstretched. A native holds a spider (Brazilian wandering spider) between my legs against my perineum just behind my ballsack. I cry out as I feel a wasp-like sting. After a few moments, my cock begins to grow into a throbbing, steel-hard erection that will last at least 4 hours (effect of spider bite).

The natives seat themselves around me in a circle a short distance away. I notice on the ground all about me there are a number of small, rounded, stump-like growths. As the first shadows of nightfall darken the area, the tops of the growths split open, and a light brown, eel-like tentacle slowly emerges from each one. They move slowly, pausing frequently as if to sniff the air for prey (me?). They have no eyes or facial features, but they do have what appears to be some kind of mouth. One type of tentacle has a toothless mouth that rhythmically opens and closes. Another type of tentacle has an opening in the tip through which a red, wet, probiscus-like tongue alternately emerges and retracts, much like the penile sheath on a dog. At its maximum extension, it projects about 8 inches.

The tentacles, having detected my presence, approach my helpless body, and encircle my legs, then my hips, chest, and neck. The tentacles with protruding tongues focus on my orifices, my mouth and particularly my vulnerable ass. I cry out as a muscular tongue burrows deep into my bowels, only to be joined by at least two others, all taking turns. My cries are quickly muffled by another tongued tentacle that slips inside my mouth. The tentacles with mouths search out anything to suck – toes, nipples, balls, and what appears to be their favorite organ – my rigid, throbbing cock. I am being mercilessly milked as I am repeatedly impaled and raped by the swirling mass of tentacles.

I hear cheers and whistles from the surrounding native audience. The beast seems to sense my impending orgasm, and reacts with increased activity and intensity. I choke out a guttural moan as I erupt and flood the cocksucking tentacle with my cum. The mouthed tentacle, now satiated, pulls off only too be replaced by another hungry tentacle. My cock remains hard, and the beast resumes its simultaneous sucking and anal and oral assault. Only after four orgasms in succession does the creature finally withdraw and leave me, totally drained and limp. The natives cut me down, and carry me back to a hut.

The Initiation - I am being inducted as a member of a phallic temple. The initiation ceremony is conducted by the high priest in the presence of the male membership. Everyone is nude, except the priest. Most all are in various stages of arousal. The air is thick with incense and the scent of male sexuality. As the initiate, I kneel before the most recently inducted member, take his hard cock in my mouth, and suck him until he offers up his drink offering, which I eagerly consume. I am then led to a sculpted nude figure of a large, masculine male positioned in the center of the room. The figure is seated with crossed legs, and a massive erect phallus. I am led to the figure, and its oversized organ is lubricated. Several members take me and raise me up, then slowly lower me onto the instrument of worship. I groan as I am impaled and filled with the object of lust. I am lowered until I am resting on the figure’s lap. My legs are wrapped around the back of its body and my ankles are bound together. My arms are wrapped around its neck and my wrists are likewise tied together. I am unable by design to lift myself off of the devilish, phallic rod. I am told that I must in an act of worship bring forth my cum offering to the male idol. I cannot touch myself. Rather, I must engage in sensual movements on the shaft, writhing and moaning as the hard rod drives against my prostate. I move my body on the object of my lust with wild abandon, giving myself over to the power of the image. My orgasm builds, then erupts in an explosion of cum, drenching myself and the male statue with the evidence of my devotion.

The Ranch I have stumbled onto a private, posted ranch by mistake, and have been taken captive by several ranch hands. They lead out a mature male horse, and place a canvas sling under his belly towards the rear. They take me, strip me naked, and force me into the sling face up with my head forward, and tighten the sling so I am pressed up against the horse’s lower belly. My wrists are tied and pulled up by a rope over the horse’s back. My spread legs are similarly tied up by the ankles. They begin to rub the horse’s cock with an ointment that soon makes the horse’s reproductive organ very erect. They lubricate the cock, and put the large flanged head up against my anus. I groan as they push the sling back and the massive cockhead enters my rectal cavity. They then tie another rope around the rear of the animal to the sides of the sling, so that I cannot slide forward and slip off of the cock.

They get on their horses, and lead my horse into a slow walk. The walking motion causes the sling to move forward and back in a rhythmic motion. As it does, I am repeatedly  impaled on the arms-long phallus, making me cry out in a combination of pain and pleasure. They speed up to a slow trot, turning the sling into an incredible, natural fucking machine. Soon, I am experiencing almost continuous anal orgasms. The horse eventually stops, neighs, and erupts inside me, filling me with what seems to be gallons of hot equine semen. They leave me impaled on the horse for a while as he grazes, finally releasing me.

The Prisoner - Because of a minor infraction, I have been sent to a prison camp in a developing country composed of predominantly black men. There is an unofficial structure to the prison population, and as long as the informal inmate leadership keeps things quiet, the guards don’t usually interfere.

When new prisoners are introduced, especially thin white prisoners like myself, the inmate leadership has a way to make sure they toe the line and stay in their place, so to speak. The method is similar to what was known as “buck breaking” during the slavery era. This was used to set an example for uncooperative male slaves. First, the victim is stripped naked, then his hands are tied and the victim is hoisted up by  the rope over a beam so he is suspended with feet hanging. He is gagged so his screams will not be noticed. He is then whipped with a leather whip, focusing of course on his genitals. Soon, his cock, balls, and ass are covered with red stripes. Next, he is taken down, laid face down on a bench (breaking bench) and bound in place, then mercilessly and repeatedly sodomized (barebacked) by hung black males selected by lot from the prison population. All this is done in view of the other prisoners.

He is then assigned to one of the inmate leaders (again selected by lot), to be used as his personal bed boy, and sometimes loaned out to others in return for special favors. Rarely a night goes by when he is not ravished by some large black male. Occasionally, he is released into the gang showers, where it becomes an all-comers orgy for the general prison population, with sperm-laden black cocks filling both his mouth and ass. His almost feminine cries incite their animal passions even more. Rarely, has so much cum been deposited into the openings of one individual in one session. As a white bed boy in a black prison, this is my lot in life for the duration of my stay, and I love it.

Special Farm - As a male with an almost entirely gay orientation, I have little use or desire for female pussy. The sight of it really does nothing for me, unlike the sight of a manly hard cock or ass. However, there is one exception. The pussy of a female horse (a mare) turns me on like no other. The thick labia surrounding a pink orifice, the clit that inverts itself when stimulated, the puckered anal orifice above (inviting in its own way) - all is exciting.

I locate a special remote farm (through a tip from one of my kinky male friends), and make arrangements for a discrete weekend visit. Understandably, they don’t advertise their special services, and the only way to learn about them is through referrals from trusted clients. Interspecies sex (bestiality) is still taboo, and illegal in most places, but my desire for sex with animals has been kindled, and I feel compelled to pursue it. I meet the owners, a backwoods looking couple in their late 50's. She is trim, with long graying hair. He is heavy and hairy, with a big pot belly and long gray beard. He wears a t-shirt and coveralls. Both have missing teeth. When I made the arrangements, there was nothing said about payment, and upon later inquiring, he simply responded that the compensation would be in other ways.

Before dinner, they show me the barn, which contains stalls for horses and donkeys. After dinner, as it is just getting dark, we return to the barn. They introduce me to a mature mare horse in one of the stalls. They tell me that they have her all cleaned up for me, and that if I would like to enjoy her company, I should disrobe and slowly approach her from her rear. The wife will stand at the head to comfort the horse and keep her at ease, while the guy will assist me with what to do. I feel a little self conscious, since I am the only one who is naked. He directs me to stimulate her vulva to get her ready to mate. I use my fingers, until she seems wet. I want to taste her, so I put my mouth over her pussy, licking her pussy lips and tonguing her hole. She smells and tastes like one would expect a horse to smell and taste.

By now my cock is hard and erect. He places a low step behind her, and directs me to step up. The height of the step is such that my cock is at the right level for entry. I wet my eager cock, place my drooling knob at the entrance, and slide inside. I am in heaven! Her pussy is like a hot, wet, velvet glove. I hold her tail to the side, and begin to thrust into her. I am transfixed by the sight of my pink cock disappearing into her dark recesses. It is not long before I am close, and I have to pause several times to keep from cumming prematurely. Finally, I can hold back no more and I groan aloud as I experience an explosive orgasm and release my human sperm inside her. After a while, I slowly withdraw, and a stream of cum runs down below her orifice. I lean forward and lick this up, then place my mouth over her pussy once again, this time to suck the rest of my cum from her.

Later that evening I find out what kind of “compensation” is expected. I spend the evening and into the night providing all manner of deviant sexual pleasures for them. She is the hairiest woman I have ever seen. I spend long periods devouring her pussy in her dense furry muff, while he drives his horse-sized cock into my willing ass. He is incredibly long-lasting, and takes me several times in several positions, turning me into his cum dump. During the night, when they need to piss, my mouth and throat serves as their personal toilet. The next day, I am told it will be a male horse (a stallion), but this time, I will be the recipient. Of course, the interspecies sex will once again be followed by another night of special compensation for the hosts.

The Serpent - I am sleeping, entertaining lustful thoughts of hot demon sex, which gives me a throbbing hard-on. Suddenly, I am in the presence of a being resembling a large red reptile, like a boa or python, with a length of at least 15 feet and as thick as my leg. It quickly encircles me, immobilizing me with its powerful coils. I realize resistance is useless, as it could easily crush me.

Its scaly cool skin slides over my erect cock, turning my fear into arousal. A coil wraps around behind my hips, and the tail portion rubs down my stomach against my cock. The tip of the tail slips down between my legs and turns upward into my anus. I groan as it burrows ever so deeply into my rectal orifice, moving with sensual motions. The snake’s cochlea opens, and slips down over my hard cock like a masturbation sleeve.

I cry out as I am taken by the being in a reptilian copulation ritual. It fucks my cock while it simultaneously fucks me in my ass. It positions its head directly in front of my face, and our eyes lock. I am mesmerized by the red, demonic glow. A thick, black reptile tongue emerges from its mouth and grazes my lips. The serpent moves to where our lips are touching, and I instinctively open my mouth. The powerful, slimy tongue invades my mouth and slides down my throat. I can only make guttural sounds in response to the multiple penetrations.

It dawns on me that I am mating with a demonic epiphany of that serpent of old, none other than Satan himself. I long to be united to Him. The serpent continues its irresistible motions, milking me until I yield up my holy semen in a powerful orgasm, consummating our union, a union of flesh and spirit. It withdraws, leaving me exhausted on the bed. Through this ritual I now belong to Him, totally and completely.

Masturbation as Worship Alone in my secret sanctuary, I strip naked, lie back, close my eyes, spread my legs, and begin to masturbate, praying aloud, summoning gay demons from the Abyss to descend upon me, to possess me, and fill me with cock lust and sodom lust. Every day, I engage in prolonged masturbation as an act of ritualistic worship to Satan, the God of cock, and His ministering spirits. I willingly offer my cock as an instrument of their service, to be used as they desire. My cock hardens and throbs for Satan, and for sacred union with his minions. Their demonic energy sweeps over me, causing me to groan and writhe uncontrollably. I repeat mantras of love and adoration for Satan. I lose control as I am filled with their presence. My pleadings turn to unintelligible ecstatic utterances, and I speak in demonic tongues. My orgasm builds and erupts in a flood of holy semen, which I produce as a thank offering to them. As I conclude my service of cock, I consume the offering, drawing upon its power to transform me into a devoted disciple of Satanic cock worship.

Sacred Rite - I kneel naked before the object of my desire, a large phallic dildo (with balls and suction cup, securing it in a vertical position on the floor). I crawl forward and squat over it, with its bulbous head at the entrance to my lubricated anus. I slowly lower myself, groaning aloud and calling for the demon spirits of Sodom to come upon me and join with me in the sacred rite of satanic sodomy. My sphincter yields, and I impale myself completely on the massive phallus.

I call for the spirits of Sodom, that ancient city of gay lust, to inhabit my anus, to use it as a portal to their sacred temple - in my soul. I entertain visions of being raped and sodomized by their hot demonic organs, and being filled with their satanic seed, of becoming pregnant with their demon offspring. I writhe slowly on the dildo, feeling their pleasure. My hips become a blur of motion, and as the anal pleasure overwhelms me (Satan is the author of sodomy, and as its creator, knows how to maximize its pleasure in his disciples). I convulse in a powerful anal orgasm, and my anal muscles go into uncontrollable spasm, which lasts for some time. My hot seed oozes forth, as the cock dildo is driven forcefully against my seminal vesicles, ejaculating their contents. I collapse as though my energy has been drained and taken.

Recovering, I begin to masturbate, using my cum as a lubricant. I need a full penile orgasm. Cock lust now fills me. I masturbate for the King of Sodom, as His devoted subject, impaled on His phallic symbol in the sacred rite. His energy flows through my cock, and it throbs for Him. I slowly and loudly groan the holy word “Soduuummmmeeeeee……” as my cock explodes in a geyser of cum and my anus once again grips the deeply embedded dildo with strong muscular spasms. I lick up my cum offering as I conclude the sacred rite. I thank the King and spirits of Sodom, and ease myself off of the phallus.

Sacred Retreat - I periodically go on a weekend retreat during nice weather to spend some time alone, communing with Satan and his demons. I choose a remote cabin in an area known for spirit activity. It is rustic, with no electricity or running water. It is also sufficiently remote that I don’t have to worry about being bothered by unwelcome human visitors. Upon arriving, and after getting settled in, I remove all my clothing (except for shoes), and lock it in the car trunk. I will enjoy the weekend in the nude. I explore the area and locate (by inward feeling) what I will use as my sacred place, a sanctuary where I will invoke Satan’s presence and that of His spirit demons. I prepare it with a small carpet pad, black candles, and Satan’s signet, and set up a makeshift altar. I adorn it with various receptacles (chalices) and a number of  large, phallic dildos of both human and animal (dog and horse). In the center, before the altar, I install a stub base in the ground on top of which I will afix various dildos. I will start with the human male dildo, but in subsequent sessions I will use the equine and canine dildos to help summon the demons of bestiality.

The daylight hours are spent making preparations. There are ceremonial cleansings (inside and out) that I must perform. There are times of meditation, writing and reciting prayers to Satan, the God of Cock, and King of Sodom.  There is frequent hydration using various energy drinks (no food this weekend). Of course, with the hydration, there is more frequent urination, all of which I consume. There are also male supplements, blue pills, and cock rings to enhance the experience.

As dusk approaches, I go to the sanctuary and light the candles. I kneel before the altar, raising my hands and offering up praise and adoration for Satan, invoking his presence, along with that of his demons of gay lust, sodomy, bestiality, and pedophilia. I take a chalice from the altar, place it below my cock, and fill it with golden, salty fluid. I lift it up to Satan as a drink offering, and then drink it, savoring the bitter aftertaste. As I continue to pray, my cock begins to stir, and I sense a presence around me. I lubricate my ass , cock, and dildo, squat on my knees over the male dildo, and slowly lower myself onto it. I groan aloud as I am slowly impaled on the thick phallic symbol.

I begin to move on the dildo and stroke my now erect cock, praying to Satan and crying out for His filling. I engage in the sacred sacrament of sodomy, which opens me up for penetration and entry by Satan and His demons. As I sodomize myself on the male dildo, I invoke the name of Satan, the King of Sodom, pleading for Him and His demons to fill me and possess me. My prayers and pleadings continue, as I worship the satanic godhead - Satan, Lucifer, the Serpent, and the Dragon. I enter a trance-like state of altered consciousness, and I begin to shake uncontrollably. I am still praying, but I am no longer in control of my words.  I am speaking in tongues, the tongues of demons, as I worship the prince of demons. Inevitably, I reach a pinnacle of satanic pleasure and my body erupts in a whole-body orgasm, my anal muscles contracting in spasms around the embedded dildo and my cock spewing rope-like strands of holy semen into the chalice positioned in front of me.

As I slowly come back to reality, I slump down on the dildo. I raise the chalice to Satan, dedicating the cum-offering to Him, and then I consume my holy seed.  This is repeated in subsequent sessions using the animal dildos, in which I will worship Satan as the God of Bestiality, calling on Him to fill me with insatiable lust for animals, and to breed me with their semen as I offer praise to Him. I spend the entire weekend praising and glorifying Satan, and communing with His demons of gay lust, sodomy, bestiality, and pedophilia.

Sacred Undergarments

Like several religions (the Mormons), I make use of sacred undergarments as part of my religious service of Satan. Unlike the plain white conservative top and shorts used by others, mine are erotic, silky, and skimpy. I have an assortment of tiny thongs, V-strings, bikinis, and pouches in various colors - pink, red, powder blue, and black. I regularly wear these under my clothing, sometimes with cockrings or supports to accentuate my genitals. The feel of the silky material, as little of it as there is, is very sensual and arousing. The undergarments remind me throughout the day of my commitment to Satan, and my desire to worship him in every way possible.

The Eunuch I am a young adolescent male from Palestine, handsome and reasonably educated. My homeland has just been overrun by soldiers from Chaldea (Babylon), and I have been taken back with them to serve as a slave, along with others. Because of my appearance and manner of speech, I am singled out by the slave traders in Babylon for special treatment. I will bring a high price at market, and may even find a place at the house of a high official, or possibly even the royal court. One thing is needed, though, to maximize my marketability.

I am taken aside to a small courtyard away from the general market, where I am stripped naked and placed back down on an inclined wooden table with my hips even with the lower edge. My legs are pulled widely apart and tightly secured with ropes to two posts. My body is lashed down so that I cannot move, and my arms are pulled above my head and similarly lashed. A rag is stuffed in my mouth. My genitals are fully exposed and vulnerable. A burley man takes a seat on a stool located between my legs. I strain against the restraints, anticipating what may be happening, but it is useless. I cannot move. I scream into the rag as I feel the searing pain, like I have never experienced before. I jerk uncontrollably against the ropes. The man makes an incision in my scrotum through which he quickly removes my testicles, severing and cauterizing the vascular tubes. My incision is bound up with a cloth, and I am released to recover.

Soon, my former steelhard erections and powerful ejaculations will be a thing of the past. My muscular frame will give way to a softer, fuller figure. My body will become smooth with little hair. My breasts, which are tight and firm, will develop somewhat like those of a woman. My former competitive nature will be gone. I may be employed in a position as a personal servant to a powerful official in an intimate role, taking care of his bathing, grooming, dressing, and elimination needs within his inner bed chamber. Of course, I will probably also be called upon to satisfy his sexual needs as well. [Wives were intended for procreation, not sexual pleasure, and young women could become pregnant. A master could have unlimited penetrative sex with his personal male slave without risk of pregnancy. It was expected of him, and his masculinity would be called into question if he didn’t.] He may even share me with his friends, for similar services. Such is the life of a young, attractive, feminized eunuch.

Phallometric Testing - I am being forced by a state corrections agency to undergo a phallometric exam to assess my interests in sexually deviant behavior, such as pedophilia (involving pre-pubescent children, age 10 and younger) and hebephilia (involving pubescent, early adolescent children, age 11 to 14). Phallometric response to male and female pedophilic and hebephilic sexual stimuli is a fairly strong predictor of sexual offense. Although the tests are generally inadmissible as evidence towards a criminal conviction, they are widely used in treatment of convicted sexual offenders, both in prison and following release under parole.

The test that I am going to be subjected to is known as the penile plethysmograph (PPG) procedure. This procedure measures slight changes in the size of one’s penis in response to certain types of visual and audible sexual stimuli. The equipment is so sensitive that it can measure minute changes in the penis, even if the patient is not aware of it. The stimulus category(ies) with the highest arousal response gives an indication of a person’s erotic preference(s). The test can also identify individuals who manifest high levels of arousal to inappropriate or deviant sexual activity, while displaying low levels of arousal to appropriate sexual activity. The test is highly accurate (95 percent) and very difficult to fake.

The test was originally used by military authorities in communist Czechoslovakia in the late 1950's to identify those military conscripts who were falsely declaring themselves to be gay to avoid the draft. The test had the ability to discriminate between heterosexual and homosexual conscripts. Unfortunately, the test has since been used to identify gay men in countries (mostly Muslin and some African) where homosexuality is illegal.

The most common PPG equipment involves the circumferential type, which measures changes in the girth or thickness of one’s penis using a thin, elastic band that incorporates a strain gauge. As the penis grows, the gauge will expand and record the change.

In preparation for the test, two curved discs will be secured to my fingertips using velcro strips . These will measure galvanic skin response. As a person become anxious, the skin sweats, increasing the galvanic (electric conducting) response. An elastic band will be placed around my chest to monitor breathing. These will be used in conjunction with the penile gauge to measure physiological responses and to expose attempts at faking. Of course, one must refrain from masturbating at least 24 hours before the test. Also, older males like me are usually given sildenafil (the active ingredient in Viagra), which significantly increases the magnitude of the phallic response where there may be erectile disfunction issues.  

For the test, I will be seated in a small, private room by myself. I will be required to remove all my clothing. The clinician will assist me in placing the band around my chest and gauge band on my penis midway between the base and tip. After some adjustments and initial data measurements by the clinician, the procedure will begin. The test takes about an hour to complete.

I will hear a recording of some 20 or so erotic stories or fantasies of different sexual encounters, in no particular order, told by a narrator. I will also be shown explicit pictures and video images, coordinated with the stories, which makes a very powerful combination. The idea is to picture myself as the person telling the story, and imagine what the narrator is seeing and feeling. The stories will cover a range of sexual scenarios, representing both heterosexual and homosexual acts, involving both genders, from small children to adults. I may hear occasional beeps (to see that I am paying attention), and be asked to push a button upon hearing the beep. A small camera is focused on my face to ensure I am not closing my eyes or looking away.

I am nervous, since I know that I will be found out. The test begins with both audio narrative and visual images. There are the usual heterosexual scenarios, and I make it through them OK. When it shifts to gay men, I feel myself reacting, and my cock begins to grow, no matter how I try to concentrate on other things. The narrative and photos and videos of men with erections engaging in gay sex are too compelling. I am sweating and breathing hard. I make it through the lesbian scenarios, but, I totally lose control when the scenes shift to cute young boys, naked and in seductive poses. With the Viagra enhancement, I become throbbing steel hard as I gaze at their smooth, nymph-like bodies, delicious little cocks, and inviting virgin asses. I realize that my professional, family-oriented, church-going image will be tarnished by the revelation of my strong homosexual and male pedophile sexual interests.

Results of PPG testing on non-offenders has shown some interesting results. For example, among men who self identify as being strongly homophobic, a large majority exhibit greater penile arousal to stimuli depicting gay sex than non-homophobic men. So, if you are male and claim strong opposition to anything gay, chances are you will experience arousal upon being exposed to explicit homosexual acts. In addition, a certain percentage of non-offending men exhibit some degree of arousal when exposed to sexually deviant stimuli (pedophilia or hebephilia).

The Crucifix - I have been taken captive by an extremist Islamic group, and have been condemned to death by crucifixion. Dating back millennia, it remains a cruel form of execution, and one of only a few with a sexual connotation, since it is carried out in public with the condemned person completely nude to bring about not only a painful death, but a shameful one as well. So, artist’s depictions showing loincloths on those being crucified are intended to protect the modesty of the viewers, rather to depict the actual situation. They were all completely naked, and it was completely public.

In some cases, the condemned person was secured to the crosspiece or post with rope, and in others with iron spikes. The Romans preferred iron spikes. Death was ultimately by asphyxiation, aggravated by shock and blood loss (from pre-crucifixion flogging or castration).

In order to be able to breathe adequately, the condemned had to push up on his feet to relieve the strain on his chest. This was only temporary, because the angle of his legs and the pain in his feet would only allow him to do so for a short period, before he had to resume a hanging position. So, the person would alternately push up, then hang down, in a motion known as “the dance of the cross.” All those crucified did this dance, at least as long as they had breath in them. I will undoubtedly do this dance.

Often, the condemned person’s feet were secured to the outsides of the post with knees slightly bent, so that his legs were open and his genitals were completely exposed, for additional embarrassment. The Islamists are aware of this, and I will be spread for maximum exposure, and for the benefit of the photographers videoing the event.

In order to prolong suffering and postpone death, a crude support known as a sedile was sometimes provided so that the person could obtain some relief from the strain of the awkward position. These were not intended to be comfortable, and were usually made of a wooden shaft or iron rod projecting out from the post to fit in the person’s crotch. An alternate design, known as a cornu (or horn), featured a straight or curved rod with a bulbous knob projecting up an angle from the post. The obvious intent of this was to penetrate the anus of the person, adding to his discomfort and shame. In Roman times, there was nothing more shameful than for an adult male to receive penetrative anal sex. The cornu added to the condemned’s shame. As he did his dance of the cross, he had no choice but to sodomize himself repeatedly on the rod. The motions of the knob in his rectum bearing on his prostate would often bring about an unintentional erection. The executioners carrying out the sentence were no doubt delighted when their design brought about such a result. I am sure that the Islamists, having researched this, will make this their goal.

Crucifixion, as with other forms of execution that result in asphyxiation such as hanging (see below), causes a post-mortem erection in a certain number of instances, known otherwise as a death erection or angel’s lust. This is probably one of the reasons it was conducted publicly in the nude. Some Renaissance artist’s depictions of Christ on the cross show him with an erection, although these were suppressed by the Roman Catholic Church, for obvious reasons. Depending on the crime, the person may be emasculated or castrated (for sexual crimes), or for especially heinous crimes, disemboweled. These are done while the victim is still very much alive, though death is hastened due to loss of blood. The Islamists apparently have this in mind, as I see various knives and curved hook blades nearby.

It is time, and I am stretched out onto the wooden beams. I scream with incredible, searing pain as the hammer drives the iron spikes through my wrists and ankles, securing me in place. I am lifted up, and the main post is dropped into the post hole. I drop onto the sedile, and its knob impales my ass. I soon begin the dance of the cross. The motion of the knob in my ass soon brings an erection. The video camera records it all. Eventually, they will take up the knife and the disembowling hook. I scream with what breath I have remaining as my erect penis and balls are sliced off, and my abdomen is ripped open, spilling my intestines to the ground. I pray for death to come quickly.

The Noose - I have been taken prisoner, convicted of crimes against the state, and sentenced to death by hanging. Hanging can be sexually arousing, especially when the condemned person is hanged in front of others in the nude, like I will be. Death obviously comes much more quickly than with crucifixion, but it still takes several minutes. The process can be prolonged by having the person bound and standing on a small stool with noose around his neck, but without his entire weight on the rope. During this time, he can be subjected to various punishments and sexual tortures –flogging, genital electroshock, or branding. Any movement to try and avoid or minimize the torture would likely cause him to fall off the stool, bringing about death by strangulation, which is the ultimate objective.

The other thing that makes hanging sexually arousing is that, in many cases involving suspension hanging (as opposed to long drop hanging), the hanged person ends up with a prominent erection, as described above for crucifixion. Spinal cord injuries or injuries that put pressure on the cerebellum usually produce priapism, a prolonged erection in the absence of stimulation. This is almost always the case for young, healthy males. So, artist’s depictions of hanged persons with full erections are not the thing of fantasy, but are reflections of reality. Furthermore, in a certain number of these cases, there may also be ejaculation of seminal fluid. In fact, in at least one novel, the protagonist (a sexual predator) selects young men for nude hanging just so he can experience sexual catharsis at the moment of his victim’s death, when he sucks the deceased victim’s post-mortem erection and extracts their seminal fluid while masturbating.

When the time comes, I am stripped naked, my hands are tied behind me, and I am blindfolded. I am made to stand on a stool, the rope noose is placed around my neck, and the slack is taken out. I cry out as I feel the burning lash of a bullwhip. It tears at my cock and balls. I instinctively want to bend down due to the pain, but I cannot without the noose tightening. My body jerks to try and avoid the pain, the stool tips, then falls. The noose tightens, and I cannot breathe. Blackness soon overtakes me. My erection rises, and my seminal fluid begins to flow. By then, I am unable to feel the mouth of the executioner sucking cum from my hard cock.

The Swamp I am turned on by anything that resembles a phallic image. One such thing involves the knees of cypress trees, the vertical woody projections of the roots that rise up from the ground around the trees, usually at the edge of or in a swampy area. I sometimes to go a particular swamp that features many cypress trees, and of course, cypress knees. I have picked out a secluded spot by the edge of the swamp, and found a narrow knee that projects about a foot above the moist ground. I have removed the scaly bark and have polished the phallic member using sandpapar, so that it is smooth and rounded.

When I enter my sacred spot, I strip naked, apply mosquito repellant, lubricate the knee, and kneel down, squatting over the bulbous, knobby head of the knee. I lower myself onto the projection, imagining it is a large cock.  I grown aloud as I slowly move down and my hungry ass consumes more and more of the natural dildo. I am finally bottomed out, and I raise my hands and begin to move, invoking the demon spirits of the swamp to fill me and possess me. I cry aloud as I sodomize myself on the cock-like shaft. Soon, I am lost in ecstatic pleasure, writhing on the pleasure rod. My cock is oozing with precum. I cry out the names of sexual demons, wanting to unite with them.

[Author’s Note: Demons are spirit beings, and unfortunately have no body. So, for them to experience sexual pleasure, they need a body to inhabit. That is why I invoke the demons of gay sex and sodomy to enter me and use my body as their abode, so as to share in the intense sexual pleasures that I feel.]

My moment of consummation nears, and suddenly my sacred semen boils up and erupts in a hands-free ejaculation. My orgasmic groan echoes out through the swamp. My cock continues to jerk as my orgasmic spasms cause my sphincter muscles to grip the hard root deep inside me.

I slowly slide off the knee, then lean down and lick my cum off of the leaves on the ground, then suck and lick my anal secretions off of the slick wooden shaft. I am glad that I have given the demons gay pleasures once again, and I dismiss them back to the swamp. I dress and depart, having appeased the demons of the swamp for the time being.

Worshiping Baal-Peor - I am a disciple of Baal-Peor, an ancient Moabite deity. The word Baal means lord, and the word Peor comes from a root pa’ar, meaning opening. So, he is lord of the opening or hole. In this case, the primary opening is the human anal or rectal opening, and worship before his image in his temple often involved defecation. Everything that is excreted from the body (semen, urine, feces) before him is symbolically sacred, and therefore was not to be spilled or wasted, but rather consumed in ritual worship. The sexual practices are intended to arouse Baal to action on behalf of his adherents.

I will go to a sacred place, typically a small secluded clearing in a grove, where I will strip naked and impale myself on a thick phallic rod embedded in the ground in the center of the grove. This has is sometimes referred to as an Asherah pole, used in worship of Asherah, another  Canaanite deity. I move seductively on the pole as I raise my hands to Baal-Peor, calling out and invoking the presence of his demon spirits to participate in worship with me. I will make and consume three offerings to him.

I slide off the pole, and squat down over a bowl on the ground. After a few moments of incantations, I defecate a small piece of feces into the bowl. I raise the bowl up to Baal, and then empty the bowl into my mouth, quickly consuming its contents. I then put the bowl down for my second offering and kneel before it. After more incantations, I fill the bowl with my hot, bitter, golden liquid. This I also raise to Baal, before drinking all its contents. I put the bowl back down, in preparation for my third offering.  

[Author’s Note: Assuming you are healthy, you won’t get sick off of your own fecal matter. The practice is referred to as coprophagia. Roughly 18 % of the male population has tried this, including a majority of those who have tried bestiality. Similarly, urine from a healthy individual is sterile, and will not harm you.]

I kneel before the bowl and begin to masturbate, using my left hand. With my right hand I insert a wetted finger into my hole and touch my special place. I offer incantations praising Baal as my lord, and lord of my hole. I rededicate my hole to him. My hand moves in conjunction with my finger, increasing my pleasure. Soon, I cry aloud as I ejaculate holy semen into the bowl, my final offering, as my hole spasms in contractions around my finger. This too I raise to my lips and drink it all down.

At the conclusion of the rite, I remove my finger from my hole, and lick it clean. I dress and depart the grove until the next worship is required.

[thong-in-the-twist]

An angel, a chair, and a rockstar

Your pole dancing coach suffers from an accident. Her replacement is nothing like her, starting from the fact that your new coach is not even a woman.

A.k.a it’s 10.4K of the plot with eventual sex and author losing her mind somewhere in the middle. I guess it’s my way to celebrate EXO’s comeback by posting porn that is not even porn, and plot that is nowhere connected to the comeback.

You hum appreciatively when Miyeon shows you impressive bruises on her arm. Your immediate reaction is to point your own bruise on the inside of your knee. She nods knowingly and starts talking about the way her sore muscles obstruct her on her daily life. There is a certain pride in her words and you identify with that pride. Of course, it hurts, but this pain is satisfying, this pain is a result of your own efforts.

Soft ambience music is playing in the background and your surroundings are rather soothing. There are six girls in the room. Floor covered is with pale panels, walls are grey with green elements and one wall is covered with full lengths mirrors. Sports equipment on the sides just adds to the vibe of a dancing studio, and that’s exactly where you are at.

You are seating on turquoise bean bag talking to Miyeon and you are waiting for your class to start. What is unusual in this picture is the fact that your trainer is missing. She was usually the first one in, and she was usually the one to greet you in the doors. Your studio is small, occupating one ground floor apartment. There is a small changing room, toilet, and the rest of the place is taken by practice room itself. You were given the door password and that was it. You actually loved how it worked, so familiar and so cosy.

But today when you came, music was already playing, but the trainer was nowhere to be seen. Miyeon mentioned it with a wondering voice and Dahye shrugged while mussing that maybe Yanghee went out to make a call. You checked your mail but she didn’t reschedule your session.

The hour has come and nothing happens so you stretch and stand up, noticing that Dahye has the same idea. You can warm up while waiting, as not to lose time. You walk over to your favourite spot and your hand idly lands on a thing that sets this studio apart from usual ones.

The pole.

There are seven sturdy metal poles set in the floor of the studio and secured on the ceiling. Three of them have a turquoise coating and those poles make the set up less threatening. You stopped at one of the “naked” poles because although coat is supposed to make pole less slippery and serve for easier grip, at the same time it means more friction between body and pole which means way more pain. And as much as you like your bruises you don’t actively search for more of them.

You start rolling your head to warm up your neck when you hear the sound of doors opening. There is a wall separating entrance and practice room, to give you a little bit of privacy would someone mistakenly enter the studio.

“Ok, girls, sorry for being late!”

That is not your coach’s voice. That’s what stops you and you turn around feeling both curious and apprehensive. This voice is not even feminine.

Sure enough from behind the wall appears the man. He has short, messy, black hair, little studs in his protruding ears, sharp cheekbones and even sharper stare. He is wearing a hoodie and sweats, there is also a sports bag on his shoulder.

He doesn’t look like your trainer, that much is obvious. He doesn’t look like he belongs here – he looks quirky but more like he should be entering a gym, not a pole dancing studio.

“During the last competition Yanghee slipped and dislocated her shoulder, and she asked me to fill in for her, and so – here I am,” he continues as if he was oblivious to the fact he doesn’t match the environment he is in. You glance at Miyeon whose mistrust is clearly visible on her face as she watches the man throw his bag on the ground next to bean bags. He takes off his hoodie, revealing his tank top. “My name is Kim Jongdae and for the next six weeks I will be teaching you, and I hope we will have fun together!”

You can’t focus on his words because his arms are clearly muscular – but again it doesn’t say pole dance, it screams gym. He kicks off his sneakers and you have a moment of panic, but you are not quick enough to turn away when he just drags down his sweats.

One of the girls emits a choked, muffled sound which you can identify with. You were not expecting to see body fitting shorts on the gym dude (although in the hindsight studs in his ears could have been the first clue) and you were not expecting him to be cleanly shaved either.

“Ok,” he says still mindless to your internalized confusion. His legs are muscled, crooked in a way that tells you he enjoyed playing football when he was younger, but they are hairless. “Let’s get ready with a warm-up!”

He walks over to a tablet laying next to the speakers and changes music to a faster playlist. Then he walks over to the central pole, where your trainer usually stands and without further ado he starts the warm-up.

You exchange quick glances with Dahye and begrudgingly follow his suit. There is nothing unusual in the way he leads the warm up. Part after part you warm up your bodies, Jongdae’s eyes following your movement in the mirror and ad-libing corrections and encouragements if he deems them needed.

But it is still weird. When you watched Yanghee you admired her body as one can admire art – in a platonic way. With Jongdae noticing how good his ass looks isn’t about admiring the work put into that ass, but it is about Jongdae being one fine specimen.

Because even as he has just walked in, you found him attractive. You’d swipe right on him in a heartbeat. Which incidentally means you are not that happy to have him as a trainer. He is very nice to look at and that’s a fact, but you are not happy to be working out next to him. It’s not the right type “getting sweaty”.

“Ok, great girls! Drink water, clean your poles and we’ll start with strength exercises,” announces Jongdae and you walk over to where you left your bottle. Miyeon joins you and it is clear she wants to discuss Jongdae but can’t. Somehow you know exactly what she wants to say.

In the meantime, Jongdae changes the music, grabs wipe and sprays cleaning solution on it. And then he grabs his pole with his free hand, jumps in the air, the hand with the wipe in it grabbing the pole way higher and he pivots on the pole, sliding down while cleaning it.

You have been training pole dancing long enough to see that even if it looks effortless (and impressing), it’s not. His lower hand is steady on the pole, arm bent as it steadies him. His body is tensed and toes pointed to keep his back in one line with his legs. What you can’t ignore is how good he looks like this. Warm-up was intensive enough for him to develop a fine sheen of sweat on his body which means his skin is glistening.

You look away realizing that lusting after your trainer might not be the best idea.

“Unfortunately Yanghee didn’t tell me what you did until now, so I will have to slowly feel you out, if that’s ok,” Jongdae says, flashing all of you a playful smile. It’s so clear that none of you is comfortable with Jongdae as your coach that no one laughs. His smile doesn’t fall but you catch him exhale as if he was calming himself down. “Well, then, let’s start with a firefighter. I guess you have practised it already?” Scattered hums confirm it and Jongdae nods. “Alright, how about climbing?” Another round of confirmations. He stands with the pole on his left, his left hand grabbing it high, as right hand catches the pole at his chest level. “Then let’s start off with the firefighter, moving into the climb, all while spinning.”

As he talks, he starts his spin, right leg pressing into the pole from the front, while left leg hooks behind it. He shows off the way his legs are crossed on it, supporting his weight as all of you watch the correct firefighter technique. After a moment he straightens, his knees squeezing the pole, as he moves his hands higher. When he’s secured his hold he brings his legs up, one more time crossing them on the pole – once more showing off the firefighter. After that, he climbs up once more and playfully slaps the ceiling.

“If you are spinning too fast, just push your body away from the pole,” he says, leaning back, his spins slowing down. Your eyes fall to his legs and you can’t help but notice how perfectly sculpted his thighs are, and how good they look while squeezing the pole. “Don’t jump off the pole, you are going down the same way you went up!”

You wait for him to show how one should go down the pole and you go to try it. You’ve finally started climbing two weeks ago, but firefighter you could do for more than a month now, so it didn’t seem scary. True enough, you are able to do it, not as smoothly as Jongdae, but a minute later you find yourself touching the ceiling. The studio is slowly filling with usual sounds, girls groaning and expressing their excitement when they manage something.

Surprisingly Jongdae’s comments harmonize nicely with usual jokes, but the group is still distrustful. It can be felt in a way girls get quiet he tries to joke. You actually feel bad for him – but not enough to be the only one to laugh.

But when you go down, and he throws nicely done at you, you smile at his reflection. He looks surprised but smiles back at you.

He is going to be your coach for six weeks, you might as well get used to that.

*

You are usually the first girl to arrive (you have issues with being late, and so you tend to arrive way before the scheduled time), and this time is no different. But this time Jongdae is already in. It’s your first time entering the studio with rock music playing and your coach doing pushups in the corner. He is wearing sweats and once more looks like a gym dude, not a pole one.

He hears you walk in because he sits back on his heels and looks around.

“Hi!” he calls over his shoulder and you greet him back. You feel awkward so you duck into changing room before he can say something else and you stay there sitting in your booty shorts and a tank top. The week before you considered dropping the tank top, but you don’t feel safe enough with Jongdae to walk around in only sports bra and booty shorts.

Finally, music changes from rock to warm-up music and other girls arrive. You walk out together as Jongdae is stretching his arm, wrist pressed against the pole. His sweats are gone and you notice a mole high on his thigh.

“Hi, girls!” he greets the group before he focuses on you. “Damn, it took you so long I considered rushing in, in case you lost consciousness or something.” His tone is clearly joking, but you can’t brush off the feeling that his words might have meant something more. You shrug awkwardly and just walk over to your pole. Even if he wants to comment, other girls follow your suit and he is forced to start the class.

You are pleasantly sweaty when Jongdae announces a short break and really eager to go on the pole. Pole dancing is not easy, it requires strength and technique and high pain threshold (especially in the beginning). But the satisfaction that comes with the correctly done figure you failed many times before? Unmatchable.

“How your sitting skills are coming along?” asks Jongdae changing music. The loud and unanimous whine that answers him startles all of you, even him. You are the first to laugh, but the rest of the girls join you – you just hate sitting on the pole so much. He shakes his head. “Yeah, I know, but you really need it for the more advanced figures.”

“But it hurts so much!” whines Dahye and you all murmur in agreement. At least until Jongdae turns to her.

“Oh, does it?” You are speechless at how sassy it sounds. Like, Yanghee would never mock any of you like this, opting for sharing your pain. You are not sure if Jongdae realizes how harsh it sounded and if he realizes that he just lost all the points he managed to gather.

You can sense hostility raising, but he doesn’t seem to care, walking over to his pole. He spins, using the force of the spin to bring himself close to the pole. His outer leg goes over his inside leg as he squeezes pole with his thighs – the rod as deep between his legs as it can. He sits with his legs crossed like girls tend to cross legs while sitting on a chair. You are pretty sure his crotch is flush with the metal. Scratch that, you know that, it’s how this technique is done.

“If I can sit on the pole, so can you girls,” he says, still in the spin.

You exchange glances with Miyeon, realizing that it’s true. It will hurt but you’ll do it.

Thirty seconds later you are screaming bloody murder as the pole is bruising your thighs. But you will survive. Just like Jongdae said, if someone with a dick can do it – so can you.

*

By the time you reach the fourth week of Jongdae teaching your group, you can’t imagine going back to Yanghee. Of course, she was great, but after being pushed to your limits by him twice a week, a thought of losing him is not pleasant.

It didn’t take him long to win over your group. It surprised you considering how hostile you were in the beginning, but he was as driven about winning your trust as he was when he pushed you during training sessions. By now he was freely joking with every single one of you, and he already knew how to encourage you.

So when you arrive for seventh class not only you change and walk out of the changing room as soon as you are done, but you also finally decide to drop the top. When you walk into the studio, Jongdae is doing pull-ups on rings hanging from the ceiling. That’s another thing you’ve become accustomed to. Whenever you came for the class Jongdae was already working out.

When he sees you, his left eyebrows twitches. It’s the only acknowledgement you get from him as he slowly finishes his reps. You try to act nonchalant, but you are way beyond awkward. Does it look bad? Is your tummy not flat enough? Why did you even think it’s a good idea? You walk past Jongdae, seeing his back in the mirror and you glance at yourself, sucking your belly in.

It doesn’t help you feel better, but you are also too embarrassed to go back and put your top on, so you cross your arms on your abdomen, hugging yourself and concealing your body. Why did you do it?

Did you think it might help you getting his attention?

A soft sound of feet on the panels tells you that Jongdae jumped off the rings. The embarrassment you feel makes it impossible for you to look at him so you feign assessing bruises on your ankles.

You have already become accustomed to never-ending bruise galore on your body.

You hear the sound of the passcode and a second later you can hear the sounds of girls coming in. You nearly jump to your feet, eager to see them and escape your awkwardness. In passing you see Jongdae staring at you.

Girls are very supportive of you choosing to work out in pole dancing attire. They coo over you and they compliment you, cheering you not to put on the top. It gives you enough courage to go out of the changing room without the top, and the first thing you see is Jongdae looking at you.

A shiver goes does your spine, but you ignore it. You are not going to be scared back into putting it. If Jongdae doesn’t think you can wear this outfit, it’s his problem.

You take your place next to the metal pole, refusing to look at Jongdae, even though you can see his reflection in the corner of your eye and you can see he is still looking at you. You catch Dahye and Yeonsu exchange glances.

Jongdae clears his throat and starts the warm-up. Now you are forced to look at him, but it’s different when you are doing it to follow his moves. You are very consciously keeping your belly sucked in, but you are telling yourself it’s good for your workout. Which is true, even though it feels forced.

By the time the warm-up ends you are twice as tired as usual – keeping muscles of your abdomen tensed makes your energy drain twice as quickly. Jongdae changes the music and you can see how apprehensive he looks and you do your best not to analyze it. You busy yourself with drinking water and cleaning your pole.

When Jongdae steps back into the circle of the poles, he clears his throat to grab the group’s attention.

“Ok, girls, you know some figures, some of them you have already perfected, so I thought today we would take it a step further,” he says, and you glance at Miyeon, who upon seeing your stare shrugs. You zero in back on Jongdae and he clears his throat once more and grabs the hem of his white tank top and swiftly takes it off.

You are so close to whimpering. Jongdae’s chest is all golden skin, sweat and defined lines of muscles. You are so not ok with how this class is going, it’s just unreal. You are not sure if he does it to make you feel less awkward, but it doesn’t help. It doesn’t help at all when he is wearing his tight shorts and nothing else.

And he looks so comfortable in his skin. He takes a step to the pole and easily jumps into a spin. You are lost for words when you look at him easily going through figures, all of which you already know and you can easily do, but the moment his foot touches the floor again – that’s when everything goes sour. He does one more spin, his legs drawing a circle on the floor and he spins around next to the pole, allowing his head to roll to the side at the finish – you catch his eyes, they are sultry. He leans against the pole, rod between his shoulder blades, and in a very smooth move, he spreads his legs, his weight supported with his hands on the pole. He waits for a second and slides down the pole, tempo matching the music.

It looks so lewd you can barely keep your eyes at him. Somehow you moved past technical pole dancing to strip club pole dancing, and damn you if it doesn’t look amazing on him.

He brings his feet back together, and with a body wave starting in his hips he stands back straight.

“Well, that would be it,” he says with an easy smile and you realize he is done. A quick glance at the rest of the group tells you that you are not the only one affected. “I am not the best at choreos but for now even my skill will do,” he continues and laughs. Neither of you can join in. He clears his throat, is he also uncomfortable? “Anyway, by the end of the class, I expect you to be able to dance this with me.”

After that, he urges you to follow him as he walks you through the steps. The group does it three times together with him and then he sends you on your way to practice.

You forget all about your embarrassment, it’s so fun! Learning figures is one thing, but being able to put them together and make something impressive out of that? You like how you look every time you catch yourself reflected in the mirror.

“Ok, nice on the technique,” you hear after you finish one of the tries and it’s Jongdae who apparently watched it. He is still shirtless and it doesn’t help you keep your eyes on his face. “But try feeling it? You are sexy, you should feel sexy, and you should definitely show how sexy you are,” he continues and his words send a jolt of electricity through your nervous system. You nod despite your cheeks getting warm and to your total mortification, you see that Jongdae’s ears are getting red as well. Oh my god.

The two of you clear your throats at the same time, and it’s painfully awkward. You know you should go back to practice, but you can’t look away from Jongdae, feeling frozen, and neither he breaks the eye contact.

Until Dahye calls him over. The awkward spell is broken, Jongdae turns around, and you lean against your pole. You feel a sudden strike on your ass and you welp. Miyeon has just kicked you.

“What?” you mouth to her angrily and she just glances pointedly at Jongdae. Something weird happens in your gut and you shrug. You don’t want to focus on that.

This time you want to take Jongdae’s words to your heart, so you take off the band that kept your hair in the ponytail. You are not sure if his words were only a figure of speech, but he said you are sexy. And suddenly you feel sexy. You try to turn your practice into a show, even if no one is looking.

The last part is the most fun, and you are able to match it to the music. You climb high on your toes as you lean against the metal rod and you stare at yourself in the mirror. You are sweaty, flushed, but your eyes are shining. You smile at yourself, and you spread your legs, your toes brushing the floor. A second before you slide down, you catch Jongdae staring at you in the mirror. He is standing on the other side of the studio, next to Yeonsu, with his arms crossed on his chest, but he is definitely looking at you.

You don’t know what takes over you, but you hold his stare steady, and you slide down the pole. You know that the finishing move should be the wave, but Jongdae is looking at you and your skin is tingling and you want to do something more. Your hands are steady on the pole and you know they are not going to give up, so you allow the pole to rotate, bringing you into a spin. You are low on the pole, so you don’t have enough space to work, but you hook one of your legs on it, the other straightening behind you, its toes circling on the floor, and you slowly push your hips forward, bring the straightened leg back under you. Both legs are now bent, knees far apart, with your feet together. You let your head roll to the side, your hair falling onto your back as you slowly slide down on the pole, still spinning, until your knees touch the floor and you let your hips go down as if you were sitting down on a dick.

You feel hot. You feel hot, you feel amazing, and you definitely feel sexy.

“Ok, keep practising, girls, I am going to get myself a cup of water,” you hear and you turn around to see Jongdae disappearing into the changing room. His voice sounds strained.

The stares you get from the rest of the group are definitely loaded.

*

Jongdae doesn’t try doing choreos again. You are not sure how to feel about that, but you definitely miss his naked chest, but you are comfortable enough to keep practising without a shirt. Also, the thing between you grows way more awkward and you can’t help it. You have already realized that your thing for your coach is something more than you’d like to admit, considering how you catch yourself daydreaming about him.

But he is not taking any steps to turn it into something more than coach-student relation and you are not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want it. But the inactivity drives you insane that’s why after the second to last class you stay behind when girls go to the changing room. You idle while cleaning up the pole and you go to the toilet, letting them all change and go. You are pretty sure they get the memo because they are out of the doors way quicker than usual.

When you go back to the practice room, Jongdae is tampering with the music.

“Want to help me out?” he asks, not looking up. Are you taken aback? Slightly.

“Sure,” you say nonetheless. He smiles, still looking at the tablet.

“I was asked to film one figure for a promotional video, and I need extra pair of hands,” he says and you shrug. Well, you can film him. He chooses the song and walks over to where you see a camera already on a tripod. He doesn’t need you if he has a tripod?

You are so hang-up on the tripod you don’t see the moment he loses his top. And once again you see the gold expanse of his chest. And once again you try not to whimper.

“You know the front hook, right?” he asks, and before you can answer. “Of course you do, that was your last figure in your modification of my choreo. Which was a pretty good addition if you ask me.”

You bite your lip, you were sure he was watching you till the end, but hearing the confirmation is pretty amazing.

“That’s a figure you can do as a pair. So… Would you mind doing it with me?”

Your throat goes dry. Going up the pole with Jongdae seems like a very good and yet very bad idea. But you nod.

“Normally it’s easier to do in a static way, but the spin will help you keep the position, so if you could start, I should be able to join you,” he says matter-of-factly and you can only nod, feeling lightheaded. You are not sure how it’s going to work, but you obediently go to the pole, grab it easily moving into a spin. Your inside leg hooks on the pole, and you keep your bent knees far apart. When you are comfortable you look at Jongdae and he sees it as a sign and turns on the camera.

Suddenly there are manly hands grabbing the pole over yours and his leg is hooking on the pole – the metal only thing between your thighs. Your reflection in the mirror looks amazing, but you see that Jongdae is not looking in the mirrors.

He is staring at you.

You turn your head, and sure enough on the other side of the pole, he is staring at you. You can’t do anything except for staring at him. Your world is spinning, and you can smell the studio, but also him.

You want to kiss him. You want to kiss him so much.

You are not sure how long you are spinning, but it’s your hand that gets sweaty who finally breaks it. You need to jump down before you fall and you hate the fact Jongdae just slowly comes to a halt. He walks over to the camera.

“Do you want to see it?” he asks, voice hoarse and you nod, already walking over to him. Together you focus on the miniature screen, your body more preoccupied with Jongdae being so close, than the video itself. But you have to admit that you look good when you are spinning solo. You’ve never noticed how sultry? you look. Watching from the side how Jongdae joins you is breathtaking. He is sure in his movements, but the moment he straightens pushing his hips forward? It goes straight to your crotch.

You are getting wet just looking at the two of you.

You see how your eyes on the film follow the reflections and you see the moment you look back at Jongdae and the intensity of your stares disarms you. Thankfully your filmed self stumbles off the pole on the video, breaking the spell.

“I ruined the end,” you say and Jongdae shakes his head.

“It’s ok, I will cut it off. You did very well,” he reassures you. “Come to think about it do you want to try one more figure?”

How could you say no? You don’t even think about it, you just nod. The smile you get is quite hopeful and you realize how close you two are.

“Can you do the mannequin?” he asks and to get yourself away from Jongdae because you realize how dangerous this closeness is, you walk away from him, jumping straight into a spin, hand grabbing the pole in the air. It’s the first time you did something like this and the adrenaline spike is intoxicating. You hook your inside leg on the pole, outside leg straight and securing you low on the pole, metal against the top of your ankle. You push your chest away from the pole, both your legs sliding along the pole for your shins to squeeze on it.

Jongdae only waited for that and once more you can feel the pole shaking as he grabs it over your hands, mirroring your figure. But. But his legs don’t close on the pole, his ankles pushing against yours in support.

It looks good in the mirror, the two of you arched away from the pole and spinning lazily.

“Can you go into a chair?” he asks and you consider it. You know the chair and your hands are not sweaty yet, so you should be able to.

“Yeah,” you say already letting go of the pole with your legs. Jongdae reacts immediately and you can see in the corner of your eye that the both of you are moving, legs being brought up, as if you were sitting on the chairs, arms pressing against the pole. This time you immediately look at Jongdae, once more being separated from him by the pole. You realize how much you like it. It’s sensual – empty studio filled with ambience music and two of you sharing a pole? You don’t only like it, you simply love it.

You break the connection you have when you realize that your hand is getting sweaty and you are going to fall. Your eyes snap up to your hand and Jongdae must have not only seen that, but he must have also realized what that implies because he is suddenly spinning faster. You see that in the mirror and you feel how he spins closer to you, his legs coming under your bent ones. He frees his outer arm to drape it over your stomach, and when you unavoidably slide down, you sit down on his thighs. Instinctively you hook your elbow on the pole and he hooks his ankle.

You are touching Jongdae, you are sitting in his lap. You can feel his breath on your shoulder and you are still spinning, and this whole experience is unreal. Your blood is thumping in your ears and you feel hypersensitive. Jongdae leans back slowing down the spins, and he slowly eases you back to standing, his hand on your stomach keeping you safe. Unexpectedly he spins you around when you are already standing and pushes you against the pole. It’s not as cold as you are accustomed to – it’s hot from your bodies.

You don’t think about it, you just grab his neck and you bring him close. His hand is still on your naked stomach when you kiss him.

*

You have that on film. Apparently, he turned on camera as soon as you walked away to start the routine. You made him send it to you because the way he kept you safe on the pole, the way he came close to keep you steady was so sensual you couldn’t stop watching it.

Just like you couldn’t stop watching the way he pressed you against the pole, how he bit your lip and how he licked into your mouth. Even on the video, you looked lightheaded and compliant.

The last class is sad. Full of whines and pleads, and Jongdae laughing awkwardly explaining how he can’t keep teaching you. You join in with the pleading chorus, just as sad that he is leaving the group. You’ve become very attached. He makes you go through the choreo he prepared those few classes ago and then he urges you to try dancing in duos. Even though you have fun with Miyeon is not the same as dancing with Jongdae.

That’s why you stay behind one more time after girls bid their farewells to Jongdae. He can’t contain his smile, now that you are left alone, and you feel the same weird excitement in your chest. He is putting up the camera set up and your blood is already flowing faster. You lean against the pole, looking at Jongdae expectantly. His left eyebrow twitches but he turns on the camera and you see the red light turn on.

You go into the spin. You feel good, hands steady on the pole, as you draw a circle with your legs on the floor. You climb up, sitting on the pole even if it hurts. Jongdae is looking at you and it gives you such a thrill. He is better than you. He has probably seen loads of girls better than you, but it is still you that he is looking at. When you glance at him he is just taking off his shirt which makes you even hotter. You know that it means he is going to join you. From your sitting position, you let your lower leg drop, until you can push your feet against the pole, the other leg still hooked under it. You adjust your hands and your angel is complete.

The pole shakes as Jongdae climbs up. You hate how he can go up, with nearly no leg support, and a mere second later his leg is hooked on the pole fitting impeccably between your thigh and shin, while his foot is pushing against the pole just where yours is. He holds his angel maybe for a second, long enough to show that he did it and then he is moving forward, his arm grabbing you, forearm across your abdomen. He pushes you away from the pole and for a second you are scared. But he coerces you back. However his back is glued against the pole, his ankles crossed on it, and the only way you can secure yourself is to close your thighs on his waist and cross your ankles behind his back.

It’s not a bad position. Not at all, because not only you are very close to him, not only you can kiss him (which you do), but you can also feel his cock filling up against your crotch.

But you don’t mention it, leaning back to slow down the speed of spinning and you can sense that Jongdae is both surprised and proud of you for learning so quickly. You try your best to get down gracefully, toes pointed as you slide down to the ground. Of course, Jongdae the show off slides down in a more spectacular manner, but also lands just behind you, his hands draping across your abdomen to finish the routine with his chin on your shoulder.

You can feel his cock against your ass, and his naked chest against your mostly naked back.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” he says when he unglues himself from you and walks over to the camera, “would you like to start training duos with me?”

You allow yourself to be playful.

“Is it your way to ask me out?” you ask and his head snaps up to look at you. Your skin starts tingling, but thankfully he looks more flustered than surprised.

“No, actually, no,” he says voice sounding offended. “I wanted to ask you out after the practice, but you came here so clearly wanting to do some duo figures that I didn’t get a chance.”

He makes it sound like it’s your fault, but you know he is joking and you laugh.

“Yes, Jongdae, I’d love to start training duos with you, and I want to eat something with you afterwards.”

*

Yanghee is back, her shoulder ok. You are happy to see her, but you are also sad not to see Jongdae in his tight shorts. You know that it’s a shared sentiment, but your pain is soothed by the knowledge that you are going to see him just after the class. And tomorrow, and day after tomorrow, and whenever you want actually.

Yanghee comments on how your level jumped when she was away and she pushes you straight into practice. She is pushing you way harder than she used to and you think that Jongdae must have told her that your group is ok without codling.

Fifteen minutes before the end of the class, the sound of the passcode can be heard over the music and a thrill goes down your spine just as you try to secure your rockstar.

You don’t see him but girls certainly do because suddenly you hear various voices utter surprised yet delighted Jongdae!. His easy laughter washes over you but you refuse to lose focus.

“Jongdae, please, don’t disrupt my class,” whines Yanghee and he laughs once again.

“Sorry, I have the studio right after you and I didn’t think I would make such a commotion,” he says quite sheepishly and you see him in the reflection motioning to the girls to go back to practice.

“Oh, right, the doubles?” asks Yanghee, walking over to greet him with a hug.

“Duos, yes,” he corrects dropping his bag next to bean bag. He flops onto it, looking up at Yanghee. “How is your arm?”

You immediately lose interest in their conversation, but you notice Miyeon looking at you with her eyes filled with suspicion. You wink at her and try to do a rockstar once more.

The class ends with stretching and all the girls go back to changing room, Yanghee included. You stay behind (again), confidently walking over to Jongdae and allowing yourself to drop down on his lap.

“Hi,” you greet him, growing warm with his eyes searching your face.

“Hello,” he answers and kisses you. It’s your fifth day of officially dating and it’s still very much a honeymoon stage. You’ve spent your whole weekend together – it was so refreshing to see him out of the studio. You were learning how easy and how hilarious he was, quick to joke, even quicker to laugh.

“Kids, please remember that getting sperm stains out of the hardwood is very hard, so keep your hands to yourselves. You are supposed to be training anyway,” scolds you Yanghee and you lean back to face Yanghee and the rest of the group. They are already changed, standing in the doorway and they are all snickering and laughing. Dahye shows you thumbs up, and you can’t help but laugh.

You wave to them and Miyeon shakes her head, but they say their goodbyes and go out.

That’s when undisturbed Jongdae coaxes you back into a kiss.

It’s going pretty fast but when you slide your hands under his hoodie he slaps your thigh.

“We have to start our training, stop it at once!” you laugh but stand up. Jongdae jumps to his feet and quickly takes off his sweats and hoodie. You’ve seen that a few times already, but you still enjoy seeing how he takes off his shirt.

You go to wash your hands when Jongdae picks the music and when you are back, you surprisingly go into training. It is actually impressive that he is so focused on polishing his technique that he really wants to train when it’s only the two of you.

He teaches you a new thing, but most of the training you spend working on your core strength, and he doesn’t pay any mind to you whining that you just finished one training and your muscles hurt.

Finally, you just drop the floor refusing to move anymore and Jongdae just laughs and starts setting up the camera. You immediately feel that you are getting your energy back, which is quite unfair. After that he grabs a mattress, fitting it around the pole for security. After that, he walks over to you and gives you a hand. You begrudgingly stand up and stretch yourself.

“Up the pole,” he orders and you just send him a long gaze. His ears go red but he doesn’t budge. So you exhale and obediently climb up. You are glancing at Jongdae who motions to you to keep going until you are quite high. You are comfortable with your hold on the pole, but it is still high. As you notice, high enough for Jongdae to comfortably fit under you.

“Can you start in an angel?” He asks, hovering next to the camera.

“Sure,” you say not moving. The pole is not spinning yet. He smiles at you and turns on the camera. You watch him as he walks over to the pole, hips swaying and he is keeping your gaze focused on his face. He is the one to spin the pole and you take it as a sign to start your angel.

You see in the mirror that you two finish your angel at the same time, Jongdae under you.

“Can you do a frog?” you hear and you consider it. You should be able to.

“Doesn’t hurt to try?” Jongdae laughs and the pole shakes. You exhale and bring your lower leg higher, hooking it on the pole. Now both your legs are hooked and you are sideways to the pole, hips back, your legs gripping pole between your thighs and shins.

You see Jongdae doing the same under you.

“You good?” he asks and you hum something. He looks up to glance at you and you actually love it. It isn’t as sexy as the last time was, but you love sharing the pole with him. “Ok, sit on the pole.”

You whine because you don’t want to, but one glance from Jongdae makes you unhook your higher leg and squeeze your thighs on the pole. It still hurts, but it’s not as bad as it used to be. You expect Jongdae to do the same thing, but what you see is a plank. Jongdae’s legs are straight, thighs holding him up on the pole, while one of his hands is under gripping the pole under him and the other one is free.

“Wanna come down?” he asks and his voice is playful. “Slowly!”

Of course, you want to go down, but you are not sure how to, without kicking him in the nuts. You say so and Jongdae just laughs. The pole shakes and you are still spinning, easy music in the background.

“You need to control the slide with your hands, and don’t point your legs straight down. It would be easier if you did it in a plank or half plank, this way the first thing to come in contact with my legs would be your backside.”

“My backside,” you repeat. Once more Jongdae’s ears grow red.

“Your ass, ok?” he huffs annoyed and you laugh. But you straighten your legs, and you start sliding down. The move is not smooth in any way, as you stop every few centimetres. Finally, your ass brushes his lap, and you instinctively hook your legs behind his back. The position is quite similar to the one you did last time, but this time pole is between your bodies.

Jongdae uses his hand to lean up, sitting on the pole and his face seems to be just radiating satisfaction. You slide down together, and you feel it looked good.

“Once more from the top,” says Jongdae, restarting the filming.

You exhale but obediently go up the pole and into the angel. He joins you and together you go through the short routine two more times. It’s not as fun the third time around.

“Let’s do the chairs,” you say suddenly because that would be fun. Jongdae is watching the last try and he bites his lip as he looks at you. His ears are red and you know he is going to say yes.

“Ok, but once,” he says sternly and you shrug.

“Sure, we can go back to this boring thing after we do the chairs,” you tease and Jongdae shakes his head. He is covered in sweat and so are you, and it looks amazing on him. You saw that numerous times already but his fit golden body covered in sweat? Amazing.

“And we start from the chair. Chair straight away, understood?” he warns and you nod solemnly. Why is he making it out to be such a big deal?

He turns on the camera and you try jumping into a spin, you manage to do it nicely, your legs already moving to form the chair. Jongdae is not waiting this time, following you in a jump. Pole shakes significantly and you laugh, looking at Jongdae, on the other side of the pole. He smiles, but his eyes are dark – suddenly you don’t want to go back to training. You do a risqué thing and you let your lower hand go to take off your hair band. You throw it away, glancing at Jongdae from under your lashes. Your right arm is the only thing keeping you on the pole now, and it dangerously slides down. It’s not much, maybe half of centimetre, but you immediately move to grab the pole with your other hand, but Jongdae is already there, his legs sliding under yours, his hand on your stomach. You both hook your right legs on the pole and you feel his sweaty chest glue itself to your just as sweaty back. He kisses your shoulder and you had enough. You turn your head around, left hand steady on the pole and you kiss him. You are still spinning but he kisses you back and soon enough your head is spinning as well. He goes into this kiss as readily as he goes into another pole dancing figure.

But even his hands have to give up sometimes and you fall to the mattress. You were low on the pole so it’s more startling than painful. And it doesn’t matter because you immediately throw your leg over his body and you go down to kiss him. It seems like practice is no longer on his mind because he just rolls you over. He fits between your spread legs and he kisses you. He is rolling his hips quite desperately and you share his desperation. The need to have him was itching under your skin for weeks and it has finally tipped over your limits and you are not letting him go anywhere until you get what you want.

Music is still playing and he bites your lip and you can only whine and arch your back to rub yourself on him. Your hips move to meet his and you can feel his cock, and how hot it is against your crotch. Neither of your shorts were designed to hide something like that. He drops lower sucking a bruise into your skin, just over the edge of your sports bra. You are coherent enough to know that you won’t be able to take it off, not now when desperation is so prominent in your actions.

You sink your nails into his back, begging.

“Jongdae, please, tell me you have condoms,” you wheeze when his tongue dips between your breasts. You can no longer rub your crotch against his cock, so you are rutting into his lower abdomen, legs hooked around his.

The way he freezes tells you he doesn’t. Nor do you and you want to scream. You are not having sex with him without contraceptives.

But thankfully sex is so much more than just a pound and Jongdae proves it, unceremoniously yanking your shorts and your underwear down your legs. You barely get it off one of your legs before he is going down, fingers pressing hard on the bruises you have on the inside of your thighs from the pole. It sends a wave of pain through your body, but then he is sucking around your clitoris and you are moaning. Your hips come off the mattress when he tries to lick into you. He is very enthusiastic between your legs licking into you or teasing your clitoris, sometimes allowing his fingers to come into play. You are loud and you are actively trashing on the floor, making Jongdae work extra hard to keep you down.

It’s good, it’s so good and it’s something you were waiting for so long that you just let yourself be drowned in the feeling. You love him between your legs, you love his fingers on your bruises, you love them inside you, you love his thumb on your clit, you simply do. You don’t know how long it takes him to turn you into blabbering mess, but you gather not long.

And a first thing you do after you come back to yourself? You push Jongdae down on the mattress and suck his cock into your mouth.

*

Which you get on tape.

Again.

The mortification you feel when you realize that, matches the shade of Jongdae’s ears. The two of you on the pole look amazing, it’s sensual and just beautiful, in no way lewd.

But then you drop from the pole and it turns very much lewd. Jongdae offers to delete it, but you can’t find it in yourself to get rid of it.

In the end, you ask him to send it to you and you watch it a few times.

That’s why for the next practice you come prepared.

Yanghee comments on how quickly your skill is raising and you flush slightly at the compliment. Even if it wasn’t for Jongdae you’d be doing everything to get better. That’s how much you enjoy doing it.

Once again Jongdae is a few minutes early which is greeted with laughs and Yanghee’s comment that it seems like Jongdae is trying to steal her group. To which he replies that he is actively trying to steal only one person and you blush among the hoots.

He has the audacity to wink at you.

This time you go to the changing room with the rest of the girls. You want to use the toilet, to freshen yourself up.

And to get what you need.

When you are alone, you finally go out of the changing room to see Jongdae warming up. You walk straight to him, walking into his personal space immediately. He stops and stumbles on the mattress that was left after your previous class.

“I know a better way for a warm-up,” you say not allowing yourself to be embarrassed at that line and you raise your hand showing him a condom which you are holding between your fore and middle fingers. He laughs awkwardly, his ears going red. You start loving his very red ears.

“C’mon, we should be training…” he whines and you roll your eyes.

“Jongdae, I am not doing anything else until I fuck you in this studio. I wanted to do it since you dropped your pants the first time you walked in here and I am not waiting any longer,” you don’t know where did you get the audacity to say that but Jongdae is laughing, his voice rough. He cradles your face in his hands and kisses you, making sure you’ll feel this kiss in the tips of your fingers. It’s a good hot kiss and yes, you do feel it in every cell of your body.

Maybe that’s why you decide to jump on him. He gets you like a champ, arms coming to support your legs while he bends his knees to amortize your sudden weight on him. He laughs but you muffle the sound kissing him, your forearms on his shoulders supporting you. Jongdae spins around and you use your pole instincts to hook your legs behind his to let him use his arms. He does.

The first thing he does it to take off your hairband and he runs his hand through your hair to let your hair fall down. You don’t know where he learned to do that but you don’t focus on it, appreciating the thought.

You also don’t understand why he is spinning, how extra is that? But you take it, hooking your tongue behind his upper teeth. But apparently, Jongdae knows exactly what he is doing because he sits down suddenly, and your knees rest on the bean bag.

You break the kiss and sure enough, Jongdae is now half laying, half sitting on the beanbag. You glance at him, noticing how puffy his lips are already, looking good stretched in a lazy smirk. His left eyebrow twitches.

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” he says as if to explain the choice of the place, “so I say, get on with it.”

You laugh, throwing your head back and you drop the condom on his chest to kiss him one more time. He kisses you back lazily and it riles you up, and so are his hands on your sides. They are idle but familiar and their warmth is a promise that keeps you going. You kiss his jaw and then his shoulder, feeling his cock respond against your ass. You can feel yourself instantly getting wetter – because you’ve been wet since you walked into the studio, knowing well that you were going to fuck Jongdae.

He is humming quietly and you realize that he is humming in tune with the music in the background and you tell yourself that soon he won’t be able to do it. He is content and compliant when you suck a bruise into his chest, mimicking what he did to you the last time. Which reminds him of your hickey because he pushes you away and you are lost before you see him admiring bluish red mark on your chest. You exhale annoyed because it was hard to explain to anyone asking. Jongdae’s eyebrow twitches and before you know it, he is sucking the skin again. This time your exhale is slower because as much as you hate the mark, it’s hot.

Hot enough for you to rub yourself on his abdomen and what you feel under your ass tells you that he enjoys it as well.

You expected yourself to go as fast as possible once you get the permission, but even if undressing goes quite fast (sports bra takes some fumbling) and rolling the condom on is also a breeze.

Sliding down on Jongdae for the first time is a nearly biblical experience. It’s met with two slow exhales and this time it’s him that initiates the kiss. Your lips are already chapped, but such a small thing won’t stop you, not when you are feeling pleasantly filled. Not full, but definitely content and on the right side of pleasure.

You expected yourself to go fast but you don’t. You ride him slowly, focusing on how you feel, unconsciously matching the beat of the music. What you learn quickly is the fact that Jongdae is full of those amazing, somehow muted, noises. He allows himself to moan and groan, whimper even – when he slides down on the bag his eyes fixated on where the two of you are connected.

You miss his eyes on your face, but seeing how his face goes slack when he watches his cock disappear inside you when you slide down is nearly as good. But when you want those dark eyes focused back on you, it’s enough to lean forward, your thumb pushing on his nipple as you sensually bite his Adam’s apple. It moves against your lips and you move up to bite his chin. His appreciative hum is pleasant and it engulfs you in a very intimate way.

As if riding him wasn’t intimate enough.

Your forehead rests against his and you are so close you can count his eyelashes and his slightly laboured breath is fanning your lips.

Suddenly the music changes. It’s Jongdae’s favourite – rock. And your sensual rolls are no longer matching the music. And he knows that. You can see that in his playfully arched eyebrow – if you didn’t know better you wouldn’t be sure he hasn’t instigated that.

You don’t have a choice so you brace yourself with hands on his knees and you speed up. You are riding him with savage, grinding, nearly punishing twists and nearly immediately you grow hot. Your skin starts showing perspiration again and the way Jongdae groans, pained and desperate keeps your pace up. You are ruthless in your moves and you feel dirty, you can feel how you are leaking and how it spreads on Jongdae’s thighs and abdomen. At least he is loving this if his urgent pleads are anything to go by.

Suddenly his hips raise to fuck into you, just as you slide down and it sends you forward. You don’t collapse, but you need to look for support on his shoulders. He is not waiting for you to regain your composure, forcing you to move with his hands on your hips. You wish you could kiss him, but heavens know that you don’t have enough breath left for that.

It’s amazing to watch him come apart. His head is tilted back, tendons of his neck corded and his Adam’s apple bobbing uncontrollably. He is just as sweaty as you are and he keeps thrusting up, all while forcefully pushing you up and down. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you are impressed with his strength, but there are more pressing matters at hand.

Literally, as you press your hand against your clitoris, leaving Jongdae to fuck you any way he pleases. It’s loud, filthy, and amazing, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you, just as you can feel your muscles squeezing, your insides pressing on his dick. Every time it happens, Jongdae emits a heartfelt curse which only adds to arousal surging through your veins.

Suddenly Jongdae groans desperately and you think it’s the end, but he only rolls you over. Your head hits the floor, but you don’t have time to think about it, because Jongdae is back between your legs fucking you with all the energy he has left.

Which is a lot apparently.

You hold him tightly, moans lodged deep in your throat because every time you want to emit one, his thrust makes you inhale. You can only clench your hands on his arms and your legs on his sides as he pistons in and out of you.

He is so close to you that his chest keeps brushing against your nipples and with every harder thrust he pushes against your clitoris, but you know that with his pace he is not going to last long and it’s not enough for you to come.

So you push your hand between the two of you, viciously attacking your clitoris. The slide is wet with all your slick spread around. Seeing that Jongdae mewls.

He comes soon after with a guttural groan and the first syllable of your name trying to leave his lips. He doesn’t stop thrusting though. He keeps his pace up, he fucks you through his orgasm and the intensity of stimuli you are getting brings you over soon after.

Jongdae slowly slides out of you, not able to contain a hiss, his cock oversensitive. He rolls over on the floor next to you and you both look up the ceiling, chests heaving and sweat drying.

“Woah,” you utter finally. Was it something you expected? No. Was it something you are going to welcome in your life readily? Yas.

Jongdae laughs loudly, but you can hear the pride in his voice.  

“Also make sure not to get your sperm on the floor,” you say as an afterthought and his laughter is deafening.

*

Jongdae’s hands are on your hips and you seemingly allow him to lead your body, but the steps you take? You took them thousands of times already. You whip your hair back, your head resting on his shoulder as he marks going for a kiss. You see his eyebrow twitch but he doesn’t kiss you. No fun.

The music changes dramatically and so does the light that is illuminating you. You immediately part as if that was a sign that you were waiting for. Because it was. Jongdae’s eyes are hooded and you know yours look just as sultry. One more change of beat and he jumps in the air, just as you do the same. It’s a thing you did thousand times already, your hand grabbing the pole just under his. Easily you move your leg over your head pushing your foot against the pole, while your other foot does the same low on the pole. Jongdae feet are pushing against yours as he is mirroring your position. You allow yourself to move back, the back of your legs coming flush against Jongdae’s.

There are cheers from the crowd, but you don’t focus on that. Jongdae’s face is so close to yours, but you don’t focus on that either.

Time to fuck him will come after this competition.

I couldn’t choose one photo for the header so I decided to use three and to match them with the title. Black and white Jongdae is a fallen angel, middle Jongdae is a chair I would gladly sit on, and the third one is pretty obvious. And altogether it’s how I imagine Jongdae the pole dancer.

[leisurelypanda]

Daddy!Steve verse...Steve ties Bucky to the coffee table where everyone tried to pick up Thor’s hammer during AoU. Puts an announcement out that Bucky free game the whole weekend. EVERYONE comes to fuck Steve’s little boy. Male, female, human, God, Fury, and Wanda’s power.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18624583

@stuckysheart

Bucky felt Steve shift behind him before he felt the kiss against the back of his neck. The bristles of Steve’s beard scratched his skin, but they didn’t move any lower. He snaked a hand around Bucky’s front and ran it over his stomach. Steve’s movements were slow and lazy, perfect Sunday morning sleepy affection. Bucky smiled and sighed happily.

His back was sore from the lashing he’d received a couple days ago. Much to his surprise, Bucky found that there actually was some measure of truth to what people said about submission being a kind of escape. His anxiety was relentless, lately. He had one month left before a decision would be made about whether he’d stay on with Stark Industries permanently.

On Friday night, Bucky was so wound up that Steve had tied him to the bed and gone to town on his ass and back. For the ass, Steve had used a belt. For the back, Steve had chosen a flogger. It hurt. It burned and Bucky had cried and yelled until his ass and back were covered in welts and bruises. And then Steve had come around, wrapped a hand around Bucky’s cock and whispered sweet praise until Bucky came and it was the most intensely satisfying experience Bucky had ever had.

The fact that the welts and bruises took a couple days to clear up made Bucky feel a little proud. Just like the hickeys Steve left on his body, he saw them as trophies, of a sort. There was a certain comfort and thrill in knowing that Steve had left marks on him.

Behind him, Steve hummed as he kissed Bucky’s neck and shoulders softly. His hands wandered over the expanse of Bucky’s body. They never wandered over any erogenous zones, but they felt good nonetheless.

“Morning, Daddy,” Bucky sighed. He felt Steve smile against the crook in his neck as he sucked gently on the skin there. Bucky gave a soft, breathy moan at the feeling.”

“Morning, baby,” Steve replied. “Got any plans for today?”

“This feels nice,” Bucky replied. “Been thinkin’ of getting my hair cut, though.”

“Really?” Steve asked. He moved Bucky onto his back and started kissing his collarbone. “Why’s that?”

“I’ve had this for a while,” Bucky said. “Sorta getting tired of the maintenance, you know? Want something different.”

“How much you thinkin’ of gettin’ rid of?” Steve asked. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s body as Steve’s caged him in, making him feel safe and secure and loved. He ran them across the smooth, muscled plains of Steve’s back as he considered the question.

“I’m thinkin’ a lot,” Bucky replied. “Like, short. Might shave, too.”

Steve grinned. “You wanna look all cute and innocent for Daddy, baby?” he asked. “Never seen you clean shaven before.”

Bucky grinned and his hands wandered down to rest just above the curve of Steve’s ass. He felt Steve growl softly against him as he sucked on Bucky’s clavicle.

“You can only take my virginity once, you know,” he said. Steve chuckled against him.

“Ever heard of role playing?” he asked. “I can take it any times I feels like it, doll.”

Bucky arched against Steve’s body. “Fuck,” he murmured.

“Maybe later,” Steve said. “Just wanna love on ya a bit for now.”

“Sounds nice to me,” Bucky replied. Steve hummed in thought.

“Could take a razor elsewhere, you know,” he mused. “Could shave your whole body, have it all nice and smooth for me.”

Bucky’s breath hitched and his cock started to harden. He moaned as Steve continued kissing along his chest as though he’d said nothing out of the ordinary.

“Your whole body, from your legs to your arms and your chest, even your ass,” Steve murmured. “All soft and smooth for me.”

Bucky squeaked and Steve laughed. “You like that, huh? Well, I guess I have some plans for today, too.”

It was almost noon by the time they managed to get to the barber’s office. Steve dressed incognito. Sweaters and coats that hid his body and a hat with sunglasses that obscured his face. It was a necessary part of going out. Bucky didn’t mind. Steve’s celebrity status made it difficult to be himself in public and Bucky was honestly not ready to deal with the media finding out about their relationship. He wanted to savor the privacy a while longer.

Bucky’s hair, thankfully, was easier to style than some other types of hair. It was neither completely silky and straight, nor thick and course. The hair stylist knew what she was doing, too. He had Steve wait outside. He wanted to surprise him with what he ended up with.

In less than an hour, his hair went from shoulder length to not even covering his ears. His hair was styled up in a curl on top of his head, but short on the sides. He looked smart and professional and every bit the young guy he was. Part of the reason why he’d decided to shave and cut his hair was he thought it aged him a bit. Maybe having a different kind of look where he didn’t look like he’d gone through a war (aka college and grad school).

After he’d paid and tipped the stylist, he stepped outside. Steve turned to him and Bucky smiled as he saw Steve’s eyes go dark. He pulled Bucky close and kissed him fiercely. Bucky moaned into the possessive kiss and clung to Steve’s body.

“You look so pretty, baby,” he said.

“You think so?” Bucky asked, coy and blushing.

“I know so,” Steve said. He kissed him again. “Prettiest little boy Daddy’s ever seen.”

“Wanna go home, then?” Bucky asked. “Can’t shave me out in public, you know.”

Steve chuckled. “A shame, too,” he said. “Gotta wait to make your body all soft for me.”

Jesus, he’s really into this, Bucky thought. It was exciting, though and he practically dragged Steve to the car when they left.

There was something oddly erotic and exciting about standing naked in a bathroom with Steve standing by the counter with a variety of shaving tools at his disposal. Bucky briefly wondered where Steve had gotten them and how long it had been since he used them, because Steve’s beard, while neat, was definitely a beard.

Thankfully, Bucky had never really grown much in the way of chest hair. His torso and back were naturally smooth and hairless, so Steve didn’t pay much attention to them. The rest of his body was another story. Steve took a trimmer on the lowest setting and just like that, the hair on his arms and armpits were cut short. Next were the legs, which took a little longer as the hair was a little thicker there. When Steve was done trimming, he took a razor and cream and shaved the rest.

Bucky went to move, but Steve stopped him.

“Not done yet, baby boy,” he purred. Bucky shot him a pointed look.

“Where else is there for me to shave?” he asked. Steve glanced down pointedly and Bucky shivered.

“Relax,” Steve said. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen. Just stand still.”

“Easy for you to say,” Bucky grumbled.

“I’ll give you a nice treat if you take the rest of this without complaint,” Steve offered. Bucky nodded.

“Just get it over with,” he said. “At least you have a better view.”

Steve smiled gently and took the trimmer to Bucky’s bush. He did just as he had with his arms and legs, but slower and more careful. Then he applied a lot of cream to Bucky’s balls and shaved them. Bucky kept himself utterly still as he did so. Finally, finally, the last thing was Bucky ass, which Steve did not touch. Instead, he went about cleaning Bucky up.

“Thought you wanted me totally shaved,” Bucky said.

“I do, but I also want it to be done right,” Steve said. “And I don’t know how to properly wax an ass, so we’ll leave it there for now.”

When he was done, Steve’s hands trailed along Bucky’s body. He hummed in wicked delight and Bucky shivered at the lust in the sound.

“So soft,” Steve murmured. He kissed Bucky’s arm. “So smooth for Daddy.”

Bucky preened at the words. Steve left a trail of kisses along his body. He knelt to kiss him, to run his hands over the newly smooth skin. The roughness of the calluses dragged along Bucky’s skin and they felt amazing.

“It’s like you’re a sweet little virgin all over again,” Steve murmured. He looked up, his eyes filled with passion and lust and Bucky’s breath hitched.

“Still not a virgin anymore,” Bucky said.

“Just let me pretend, okay?” Steve replied.

“But I’m not,” Bucky replied, growing annoyed. Steve got up and took a step back.

“You okay, Buck?” he asked. “This didn’t bother you the first time.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said as he looked away. Steve reached out and took his hand.

“Tell me,” Steve said. Bucky grumbled, but didn’t pull away.

“It’s just… you’ve got so much experience,” Bucky said. “You’re confident and sexy and shit, but I’m… I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. I love having sex with you, I just…”

Steve looked at him for a moment, but Bucky couldn’t finish the sentence.

“You want to have sex with other people,” Steve said.

“No!” Bucky replied quickly. “It’s just… I feel a little weird about you having so much more experience than I do, is all, it’s nothing!”

“Bucky, calm down, it’s okay,” Steve said. Bucky took a deep breath as Steve rubbed his arms gently. “If you want to have sex with other people, I can make that happen.”

…What?

“What?” Bucky asked. “I thought… you said you…”

“I admit, I was role playing a bit the first time,” Steve said. “But… the reason I have so much experience is because I’ve had a lot of sex in the 21st century. Not so much in the 40s.”

Bucky blinked. “What are you saying?”

Steve blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “The Avengers… have an open sexual relationship,” he said. Bucky blinked again. “I’ve fucked pretty much everyone on the team.”

“So… you’re saying that those crazy tabloid articles that say you guys have crazy sex marathon weekends… are true?!” Bucky demanded.

“Well, no not generally,” Steve said. “But yeah, if we wanted to have sex with each other, we did.”

“And you… don’t have feelings for anyone else?” Bucky asked hesitantly. Steve’s eyes softened and he took Bucky’s face in his hands.

“No, I don’t,” Steve said. “They’re great people, but none of them ever worked out romantically.”

Bucky nodded. “Okay, that’s… something, I guess,” he said. Steve kissed his forehead.

“I promise I haven’t done anything with anyone but you since we’ve been together,” he said. “And if you decide you don’t like it, you don’t ever have to do it ever again.”

Bucky took a deep breath. “You would really be okay with me having sex with other people?”

“With some rules,” Steve said. “You want to talk about them now or later?”

“Now, before I chicken out,” Bucky said.

“You can’t make love to anyone else,” Steve said. “Unless you want for our relationship to include him. If either of us want to have sex with someone else, we need the other’s consent beforehand. If either of us start to feel neglected by the other, we need to say so.”

Bucky nodded. “Okay, that makes sense.”

Steve kissed him again. “You’re my partner, Buck,” he said. “You’re the only one I’m interested in being in a relationship with. The first in… a long time.”

Bucky smiled. “I’ll… think about it, okay?” he said. “It’s not that I don’t’ want to have sex with them, I just… need to get used to the idea, you know?”

Steve nodded. “Take as much time as you need,” he said. “Meanwhile… what do you wanna do now?”

Bucky smiled and ran his hands up Steve’s arms and chest. “Well… I think you were saying something about loving how soft I am, now.”

Steve grinned and his gaze darkened. “Yes. Now I remember.”

It was a couple weeks later when Bucky came back to Steve about this idea. In that time, Thanksgiving had come and gone and Bucky had officially met the other Avengers in a totally normal, non-sexual environment. They were… surprisingly chaotic when they weren’t on TV.

Bucky also received a vaccine from Bruce, who didn’t even seem surprised by the request. He was checked for signs of disease, even though Steve’s serum made him immune to most forms of disease. Bruce was thorough and professional and Bucky walked away with a clean bill of health.

“So… about the thing you mentioned a couple weeks ago,” Bucky said. “The fucking of the Avengers.”

“What about it?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow as he grinned. “And I’m pretty sure you would get fucked, just so we’re clear.”

“Shut up,” Bucky said. He shoved Steve playfully. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I think… I’m okay with it,” Bucky said. “But… only if you’re there, too.”

“So you’re talking about a threesome, or do you just want me to be in the room?” Steve asked. Bucky blushed and cleared his throat. “Or… is it something else?”

“I… God this is embarrassing,” Bucky said.

“I promise I won’t laugh,” Steve replied. Bucky looked away.

“I… want you to be the one who… gives me away,” Bucky said. Steve grinned. “You said you wouldn’t laugh at me!”

“I’m not!” Steve protested. He took Bucky’s hands. “I’m just wondering where this came from.”

“I just… I think it would be easier if… you were the one to tell me to have sex with your friends.”

Steve grinned and shifted them around until Bucky was pinned beneath him. There was a dark, feral grin on his face, like Bucky had told him exactly what he hadn’t known he wanted to hear. It made Bucky’s blood burn with desire.

“So baby boy,” Steve growled above him. “Daddy wants you to meet his friends.”

Fuck, Bucky thought. “Yes, Daddy,” he squeaked.

“They’re gonna love you baby,” Steve said. “I know it.”

What Steve had in mind apparently involved rope, a butt plug, and a cock ring. It was a large plug, but if any of the Avengers had something the size of Steve’s dick, Bucky had a feeling it would be good to have such a plug. It was the same area where they’d had Thanksgiving dinner just a week ago, but instead of the dining table, Steve took him to a coffee table. Standing naked in the Avengers common room was… somewhat strange, to be honest, but Bucky’s body thrummed with excitement and anticipation.

“Get on, baby,” Steve said. Bucky knelt on the table and Steve shoved his front down so that his ass was in the air. He tied Bucky’s calves to his thighs, before he also tied his ankles to the table. Finally, Bucky’s wrists were tied behind his back so that he was stuck in either a kneeling or a prostrate position. When he was done, Steve came around and grabbed Bucky’s chin.

“Daddy’s friends will be here soon, baby,” Steve said. “You remember your safewords?”

“Red for stop,” Bucky said. “Yellow for a break.”

“Good. Now, there’s two rules I have for you for tonight,” he continued. “You can’t come. At least, not for anyone but me. And every time someone comes when they have sex with you, you say ‘Thank you, sir.’ Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Bucky said.

Steve smiled. “Good boy. I’ll be right here the whole time,” he said.

With that, he released Bucky’s face and walked over to an armchair directly across from where Bucky was kneeling. He took his phone out and texted for a bit before he set it aside and took out a copy of the New York Times like he was some kind of old person who actually read newspapers.

Bucky somehow managed to keep himself in an upright position, resting on his haunches because it was the only somewhat comfortable position available. He wondered who the first person to show up would be. There was no way of knowing until someone showed up, though.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Pietro Maximoff was the first one to show up. He appeared in a blur of motion next to Steve. It took Bucky a second to register the fact that someone was there aside from just him and Steve. He sat on the arm of the chair and grinned at Bucky before looking at Steve.

“Steve,” he greeted. “I was surprised to get your text. Is it true?”

“See for yourself,” Steve replied, not bothering to look up. Pietro returned his gaze to Bucky and Bucky blushed. Pietro’s grin grew as he walked slowly over to Bucky. He laid a hand on a bare shoulder and trailed down Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s breath hitched as Pietro’s hand grazed a nipple. His hand wandered further down until it reached Bucky’s half hard cock. Bucky bit back a moan.

“He’s beautiful,” Pietro said. “Where did you find him?”

“At Stark’s party back in May,” Steve said. “He was one of the staff that got invited to the party.”

“Really? And you’ve kept him to yourself all this time?” Pietro asked. Steve shrugged.

“He didn’t seem interested in having sex with anyone else until recently,” he said. He looked up and grinned smugly. “Daddy’s cock kept him satisfied for a while.”

“Any rules I should know about, then?” Pietro asked. “I can’t wait to take him for a ride.”

Fuck, Bucky thought as his breathing hitched. It was like he wasn’t even there, like he was just there to get fucked and nothing else. It was… hotter than he expected it to be.

“He’s not allowed to come,” Steve said. “You’re free to touch his cock and balls, though.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Pietro said.

He turned to Bucky and kissed him. Bucky was surprised for a moment, but kissed him back. He glanced at Steve and saw him nod in approval. He closed his eyes and yielded to Pietro’s mouth. Pietro kissed like it was the end of the world, fast and hot and demanding. He supported Bucky’s body easily before he pulled back and grinned.

“This is gonna be fun,” he purred. He got up on the table and pulled his pants down. His cock sprang free, long and thin and slightly curved. It was all Bucky had time to think before Pietro put the head to his mouth and pushed in. Pietro moaned above him as he fucked Bucky’s mouth in earnest.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” he moaned. He fisted his hands in Bucky’s hair as he thrust into Bucky’s mouth and into his throat. Bucky was glad that Steve’s cock was bigger and that he was used to getting his mouth fucked. It was still hot, though. He moaned around Pietro’s length. “You should share your boy with us more often, Steve.”

Steve hummed. “We’ll see,” he said. “Have to say that I’ve liked having him to myself.”

“Can’t blame you there,” Pietro said with a laugh. His thrusts grew faster and more desperate and Bucky could barely keep up. Bucky stared up at him, at the muscles shifting beneath Pietro’s skintight shirt, the dark blue eyes gazing down at him. “His mouth feels amazing.”

“He’ll be here all night,” Steve said.

“Good,” Pietro said.

He threw his head back and groaned as he slammed his cock all the way into Bucky’s mouth and came down his throat. Bucky moaned at the taste. It was less bitter than Steve’s, but more salty. Pietro sighed as he pulled out, his softening cock slipping from Bucky’s mouth.

“Thank you, sir,” Bucky recited dutifully. Pietro smiled.

“Thank you, Bucky,” he replied. He bent down and kissed Bucky again before he hopped down from the table. He grinned as sauntered for a couple steps and bent down to kiss Steve as well before he ran off in another blur.

“That was… interesting. In a good way,” Bucky said. Steve hummed.

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Steve said. “Wait until you meet the rest of them.”

About 15 minutes later, the elevator dinged and Natasha walked out. Bucky frowned. He wasn’t expecting Natasha to come. She didn’t seem interested in him, though, and sat down on the couch and looked at Steve.

“Got your text,” she said.

“I can see that,” Steve said without looking up. “You should know that he’s not into women.”

“You don’t say,” she replied. “It wasn’t exactly difficult to tell. I just came to see if he was… occupied.”

With that she held her phone up to her ear. “Hey, baby, come down to the common room,” she said. “And bring the puppy.”

“Puppy?” Bucky asked. She smiled slightly but said nothing. Bucky looked at Steve, but he was smiling just like Natasha. Bucky got the feeling that this was a kinky thing. A couple minutes later, the elevator dinged again and Sam and Clint stepped out. Well, Sam stepped. Clint crawled on his hands and knees with puppy ears in his hair and a plug in his ass.

“Hey, Mama,” Sam said. He bent down to kiss her and Clint sat in front of her on his haunches like a dog. He was completely naked, aside from that, while Sam was dressed in a red shirt and black gym shorts.

“Hey, baby,” she said. “Why don’t you take your clothes off? You’re here to have some fun, right?”

“Yes, Mama,” Sam said with a grin. He took his shirt off and Bucky drooled at the sight of his body. He was thick and strong, his chest nearly as impressive as Steve’s. His length, which was only half hard, hung long and thick between his legs. Clint whimpered and Natasha turned her attention to him.

“Hey, puppy, you wanna play with someone new?” she asked.

Sam and Clint looked over at him. Sam’s eyes raked down his body and he smirked. His gaze was dark and honestly, the guy was gorgeous. He was big and broad and his face was just so damn pretty, it hurt.

“He’s cute,” Sam said.

“Can I, Mistress?” Clint asked.

“Yes, puppy,” Natasha replied, ruffling Clint’s hair fondly. “Go play with your new friend.”

Clint grinned and crawled up onto the coffee table. Bucky sincerely hoped that he wasn’t about to get licked. Thankfully, Clint just kissed him. Natasha turned to Sam, who was still standing by Natasha.

“Why don’t you get to know him, baby?” Natasha suggested.

Sam came around behind him and his large, strong hands wrapped around his waist and stroked along his chest. Bucky leaned back and shivered in Sam’s grip. Sam sucked a kiss on Bucky’s neck while Clint kept kissing him. It was… oddly amazing, being sandwiched between two guys who kept kissing him.

“Touch his cock, puppy,” Natasha said.

“Yes, Mistress,” Clint said. Bucky mewled into Clint’s mouth as he obediently wrapped a hand around his cock. He tugged it steadily as his tongue explored Bucky’s mouth. Sam licked and sucked over Bucky’s neck. “Having fun, baby?”

“Yes, Mama,” Sam moaned. “He feels real nice.”

A moment later, Bucky felt Sam’s hands near his ass and he pulled the plug from Bucky’s ass and tossed it aside. His hole was still wet with lube and Sam pressed his dick against him. Bucky moaned loudly as Sam pushed in. He was thick and long, but not as much as Steve. It was still a sizeable cock. He arched his back against Sam’s chest.

“He’s so tight, Mama,” Sam groaned. “So tight and hot.”

“Good boy,” she said. “Don’t hold back, now. He’s used to Steve, he can take it.”

“Yes, Mama,” Sam said darkly. The next moment, Sam slammed his cock into Bucky’s ass hard and Bucky moaned loudly. Sam fucked hard and fast and Bucky groaned. Clint stood up and his cock stood out. It was shorter, but thick and veiny.

“Why don’t you suck the puppy’s cock, baby?” Steve said. “Be a good boy and make him feel good.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Bucky said. He leaned forward and licked up the length of Clint’s cock, trailing the veins until he reached the head. He wrapped his mouth around it and took the length in his mouth.

“How’s he feel, puppy?” Natasha asked.

“So good, Mistress,” Clint moaned. Bucky hollowed out his cheeks and started to suck Clint’s cock more earnestly. He swallowed it down to the root and watched Clint’s dark eyes close as he moaned in pleasure.

“Good boy,” Steve said. “Nat, do you know a 9 letter word for sneaky?”

“Insidious,” she said.

Bucky bobbed on Clint’s cock. Clint’s hands went to his hair and tugged on the curled top that he kept for exactly that purpose. He loved the tugging in his hair as he went down on Clint, who passively received what Bucky gave him. Meanwhile, Sam continued slamming home, hitting Bucky’s prostate with every thrust and Bucky moaned around Clint’s length. His hands gripped Bucky’s hips hard enough to bruise and Bucky loved it.

“I’m close Mistress,” Clint moaned above him. Bucky sucked harder and faster, chasing him towards his climax.

“Not yet,” Natasha said almost casually. Clint whined and Bucky began to lessen his rhythm. Steve cleared his throat.

“Don’t let up, baby boy,” Steve said. “Show him what you can do, make Daddy proud.”

Clint whined again as Bucky obeyed, sucking hard and bobbing quickly on Clint’s shaft, swallowing it down to the root before rising up and swirling his tongue around the head. Clint whimpered and his grip in Bucky’s hair.

“Please, Mistress,” Clint moaned. “I’m close, so close.”

“If you come before I say, you’ll be punished,” she warned. “I’m thinking maybe some CBT. Would you like that?”

Clint swallowed. “N-No, Mistress.”

“Well then, don’t come,” she said. Steve chuckled. Bucky just focused on Clint even as Sam pounded into him relentlessly.

“Fuck,” Sam groaned. “Mama, wanna come, can I come, please?”

“Of course you can, baby,” Natasha said sweetly. “Come whenever you like.”

Clint whimpered and Bucky moaned around the cock in his mouth. He didn’t dare let up. A couple minutes later, Sam grunted and slammed his cock into Bucky’s ass and came. Bucky moaned as he felt Sam’s cock pulse inside him as warm come filled him up. He kissed him gently before he pulled out and Bucky whined at the loss. He popped off Clint’s dick.

“Th-Thank you, sir,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. Sam smiled and kissed him again before he stood up.

“I hope Mama will let me play with you again sometime,” he replied. “You got a nice ass.”

“Would your boy mind if I entertained myself?” Natasha asked.

“Dunno,” he said. “Baby, can Natasha have some fun while you’re here?”

Bucky popped off Clint’s cock again. He was so horny, so lost in arousal, he didn’t really care anymore. He nodded at Steve.

“Need verbal confirmation, baby boy,” Steve said sternly.

“Yes, Daddy, I don’t mind,” Bucky replied. Natasha grinned.

“Good for me, then,” she said, spreading her legs. “Come here, baby boy.”

Sam dropped to his knees in front of her and Bucky went back to sucking Clint’s cock. Clint whined desperately.

“Mistress, please, may I come?” he begged.

“Hush, puppy, Mistress is busy,” she replied, her voice low and thick. She moaned and Bucky tuned it out as he watched Clint. His stomach clenched tightly and his face was screwed up from the effort to not come. “You can come when I’m done.”

Clint whimpered and Steve chuckled.

“You are a cruel woman, Nat,” he said. “Look at him, he’s desperate.”

“He’s pretty when he’s desperate,” she replied. “You could borrow him when he’s done, take care of your… little problem.”

“Maybe. We’ll see,” Steve said. Bucky just kept sucking. A few minutes later, he heard Natasha gasp softly, almost completely inaudible, and release a high moan in, what Bucky’s gay brain assumed was, an orgasm. A second later, Clint gasped and grunted and Bucky’s mouth was filled with his come. He swallowed it down before he took a haggard breath.

“Thank you, sir,” he said. Clint grinned down at him before he got off the table and crawled over to where Natasha and Sam were. Sam had his head in her lap and Steve had actually put his newspaper aside to gaze at Bucky hungrily. He got up and stalked over to him. He ran a finger on Bucky’s chin.

“Missed a bit, baby boy,” he said before putting his finger into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky licked it up eagerly, sucking on Steve’s finger.

“Am I doing good, Daddy?” he asked.

“Yes, baby. Such a good little boy, taking care of Daddy’s friends like this,” Steve purred. “Daddy’s good little slut.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” Bucky said, somewhat breathless.

“You need anything?” Steve asked. Bucky shook his head and Steve kissed his temple before he returned to his chair.

It was about an hour before the next person showed up. Bucky was both glad for the break, and frustrated that Steve was so focused on other things. Like the newspaper crossword puzzle like a fucking nerd. Who did those, anyway? Steve Rogers, apparently, and only while Bucky was getting fucked by someone who was not Steve Rogers. Seriously, he was doing this like it was his hobby, when Bucky had spent 5-6 months dating the guy and had never even seen a newspaper at his apartment.

About hour after Natasha and her subs left, though, who should appear? Tony Fucking Stark. He sauntered into the room as though a naked intern on his coffee table was the least surprising thing he’d seen this week.

“Hey, Stevo!” he said. “Hello again, Buckeroo. Gotta say, I didn’t really expect for him to be into our usual stuff.”

“You complaining?” Steve asked.

“Hardly, he looks good in rope,” Tony replied. His eyes danced with mischief. “Almost as good as I do.”

Bucky swallowed, not quite sure how to respond to that. Tony hadn’t been at the Thanksgiving dinner, so Bucky hadn’t met him yet. He was… just as cocky in person as he seemed on TV. His eyes did drop down to his crotch, though, and gazed at the building erection in Tony’s pants.

“He does, doesn’t he? I should tie him up more often,” he said. Bucky’s cock jumped at the idea of being tied up more. He loved it, especially when he was with Steve. “Anyway, what took you so long? Figured you’d have raced here to fuck someone new to the group.”

“I had to get permission,” Tony said. “Ma’am said that since I don’t actually run the company, there’s no issue with fucking one of the interns, but you know, didn’t want to get sued or something.”

“Of course,” Steve said with a chuckle.

With that, Tony went behind Bucky and pushed him down to the table with his ass in the air. Bucky groaned at the angle and looked at Steve, who was watching with dark interest. He heard pants unzip right before Tony put his cock to Bucky’s hole and pushed in. Bucky moaned as he was filled again with the fourth cock of the evening. He didn’t fuck as quickly or as hard as either Steve or Sam. He was just as good, though, hitting Bucky’s prostate with each thrust. Bucky’s cock strained against the ring around his cock and balls and bit his lip with the effort not to come.

“God, he feels good,” Tony moaned. “Know why you kept him to yourself this whole time. He was born to get fucked.”

“You have no idea, Tony,” Steve replied with a chuckle. Bucky moaned against the cool surface of the table as Tony fucked into him, his length dragging over his prostate as he moved inside his body. Steve just watched, his newspaper forgotten as he pressed his hand against his large erection. Bucky watched as he unzipped his jeans and fished his cock out.

“Daddy,” he whined.

“Hush, baby boy,” Steve said. “Just let Daddy’s friend use your pretty little hole like a good slut.”

“Fuck,” Tony breathed. Steve wrapped his hand around his length and started to stroke himself. He went slowly and Bucky watched every movement. His hand squeezed around the thick length and rose up before twisting around the head and travelling back down.

“Squeeze his dick, little boy,” Steve said. Bucky obeyed and Tony groaned in pleasure as his hips snapped forward. “That’s it, show him what Daddy taught you, baby.”

Bucky squeezed Tony’s dick, felt the hot length fucking into his willing body, grazing against his prostate and sending sparks of pleasure through his body. Tony’s rough, callused splayed across his back, holding Bucky down as they traveled up and down his spine. Bucky kept his eyes on Steve, though.

“How you feelin’, baby?” Steve asked with a grin. He squeezed around the base of his cock and took the top in his other hand. “You like Daddy’s friends? You like being Daddy’s slut?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Bucky moaned. “Feels so good, so hot.”

“Good boy,” Steve said.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Tony moaned. His hands went to Bucky’s hips and he gripped them as his thrusts grew more erratic. Bucky tightened around Tony’s cock, half out of pleasure and half out of trying not to come. Tony snaked a hand around and wrapped it around Bucky’s cock and Bucky whimpered at the touch.

“Not allowed to come, huh?” Tony asked. “Yeah, Ma’am likes to do that, too. It’s a pain, isn’t it.”

Bucky nodded and Steve tutted in playful disapproval.

“Now, baby, you like everything Daddy makes you do, don’t you?” Steve asked. Bucky swallowed and nodded again. “But you just said that you didn’t like not being able to come. Which is it?”

“I-I like it, Daddy,” Bucky squeaked quickly. “Hurts, hurts so good.”

“Mmm, that’s a good start, baby boy,” Steve said with a grin. “Keep going.”

“L-Like it when you make me come, Daddy,” Bucky said. “When you make me hold it in, fuck me like I’m your little slut.”

“Good boy,” Steve moaned. “Go on.”

“L-Like it when you don’t let me come while you tease me,” Bucky moaned. He screwed his eyes shut from the effort of holding it in.

“Look at me!” Steve barked. Bucky’s eyes snapped open. “What else?”

“Fuck,” Tony moaned. His thrusts grew faster, but Bucky barely paid attention. He was transfixed by Steve’s hard, demanding gaze.

“Like it when you tell me not to come,” Bucky said. “Don’t’ wanna come, Daddy, want you to make me come.”

“Good boy,” Steve said. He got up and knelt in front of Bucky on the table, his dick hanging low between his legs, heavy and red and thick and wet with pre-come. He picked up Bucky’s body and held him there as he wrapped a hand lightly around his throat before he kissed him hard. Bucky mewled into the kiss. “That’s my good little slutty boy. So eager to please Daddy.”

Bucky nodded.

“God this is the hottest thing I’ve seen in weeks,” Tony moaned. Steve grinned.

“You wanna make Daddy happy, baby?” he asked.

“Yes, Daddy,” Bucky moaned.

“Good,” Steve said. He reached around and untied Bucky’s wrists. Bucky moaned as he moved his aching shoulders and put his hands beneath him. Steve backed up and pushed the front of Bucky’s body down until his mouth was level with Steve’s cock. Then he pushed his cock into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky moaned around the hot, thick length as Steve buried his cock in Bucky’s throat. “That’s Daddy’s good boy.”

Bucky moaned as Steve lost no time in fucking his throat. He matched Tony’s rhythm, taking what he wanted from Bucky. It was all Bucky could do to remember to breathe when he had the chance. His head felt floaty and wonderful as every cell of his body honed in on his Daddy.

“Oh God, fuck!” Tony moaned as he snapped his hips forward again and came in Bucky’s ass. Bucky moaned around Steve’s length and Steve grunted. A couple seconds later, Steve came down Bucky’s throat with a groan. He slipped his cock free of Bucky’s mouth and Bucky slumped against Steve’s chest.

“Well, this was fun,” Tony said. “You two crazy kids have fun, now! Let me know if you ever want to do this again!”

“Thank you, sir!” Bucky called after him. Tony just laughed and sauntered off.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Steve asked.

“My knees hurt,” he said. “I wanna come, but aside from that, I feel okay.”

“You having fun?” Steve asked.

“Yes, Daddy,” Bucky said. “Your friends are… crazy. But good crazy.”

Steve chuckled. “Good.”

“Can I come, Daddy?” Bucky asked. “Been a good boy, right?”

“You have. You’ve been such a good little boy for me,” Steve purred. He reached down and wrapped a hand around Bucky’s cock. Bucky moaned and bit Steve’s shoulder. “Do good boys deserve to come?”

“No, Daddy,” Bucky said. “Good boys wait until Daddy gives them permission.”

“That’s right,” Steve said with a smile. His grip tightened around Bucky’s cock as he stroked it. “You’re gonna be a good boy for Daddy, right?”

Bucky swallowed. “Yes, Daddy,” he whined.

“Good,” Steve said. With that, he got up, tucked his dick back into his pants and sat back down. “Now, do you know a 7 letter word for pain?”

Bucky glared at him. “Torture.”

The most terrifying person in the planet stepped out of the elevator next. Nick Fury was the last person Bucky had expected to show up, but Steve made no move to shield Bucky from the director’s view. He didn’t even look surprised, more like mildly interested in this turn of events. Just how often the Avengers had sex with each other in places other than their rooms, Bucky didn’t know. But he was sure that now that it had happened once, Steve would do it again.

“I was wondering if I would ever run into you Mr. Barnes,” Fury said.

“Liar,” Bucky said immediately. “You know exactly how long Steve and I have been together, don’t you?”

Fury was unfazed by the accusation. He just shrugged. “Well, to be honest, I didn’t really see any reason to meet you before,” he said. “You check out, no known affiliations with foreign powers or terrorist organizations. No real reason.”

“Do you want something?” Bucky asked. Fury raised his eyebrows and looked between Steve and Bucky.

“Little bird told me that there was some fun going on here,” he said. “Don’t get much time for fun these days. Figured I could take a break.”

Bucky looked at Steve, who just shrugged. With that, he came around and Bucky bent down over the table. His hands were still unbound and it made it easier to find some kind of comfortable position. Fury took Bucky’s ass in his hands and laughed.

“Boy, looks like you been fucked good already, don’t it?” he asked. He slapped Bucky’s ass and Bucky yelped at the touch.

“Yes… sir,” he said. Fury smacked his ass again.

“Well, far be it from me to walk away from a good hole like this,” he said. He unzipped his pants and Bucky breathed in before he felt it enter him. Fury rolled his hips against Bucky’s ass, dragging his cock against Bucky’s prostate. Bucky moaned in pleasure and arched his back. Slowly, Fury began to pick up speed and his thrusts became longer and fuck, it was good.

Fury might be old, but he’s got some moves, Bucky thought. His body felt amazing. Fury’s dick grazed over Bucky’s prostate almost constantly, pressing against it so that Bucky saw stars.

“Oh, fuck! Oh, yes!” he cried as Fury’s fucked him long and hard.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” Fury said. Fury pushed him down to the table and fucked down into him and Bucky whimpered loudly in pleasure. Fury groaned above him and kept fucking. “Fuck, your hole is so loose and sloppy, don’t hardly need anything to just fuck right into you.”

“Yes, God, don’t stop,” Bucky begged. Fury slapped his ass again and kept fucking. Bucky squeezed around his long, thick cock. Then, Fury slammed his cock into Bucky’s ass and came. A lot. He pumped his load into Bucky’s ass with a soft moan before he pulled out.

“Needed that,” Fury said. “Back to it, though.”

“Thank you, sir,” Bucky said. Fury turned around and nodded before he walked off. Bucky turned to Steve. “Is he always like that?”

“No,” Steve said. “Most days he’s worse. Must be in a good mood.”

“Why’d you invite him?” Bucky asked.

“Well, one, because you wanted to have sex with other guys,” Steve said. “So I texted the people I knew who would be open to something. Two, he’s got moves.”

“Yeah, he does,” Bucky replied.

Next came the youngest Avenger, Peter Parker. He arrived in uniform, too, so when Bucky saw Spiderman drop down from the ceiling, he nearly died of excitement. A kid from the middle of a poor area of Queens becoming a hero and local icon? Bucky loved it.

And he was adorable. Slim, younger than him by a couple years, with a round face and warm, brown eyes. He smiled at Bucky before he kissed him and Bucky eagerly kissed him back. Peter was gentle and sweet and it was a nice change of pace from the other hard, kinky folks who had fucked Bucky today.

“So what do you wanna do?” Peter asked. Steve actually laughed.

“You know you can do whatever you want, Peter,” he said. “He’s tied up, he’s fine with anything.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to ask, right?” Peter replied. Bucky grinned.

“He’s right, whatever you wanna do, I’ll do,” Bucky said. Peter reached around and cupped Bucky’s ass.

“Damn, nice,” he said. Bucky moaned as he kneaded his ass. “Your ass is fuckin’ great, man.”

He reached around and pressed at Bucky’s hole. Bucky moaned as the fingers entered him easily. They squelched softly as they encountered the messy mix of lube and come that resided there.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Peter said. “How many guys have you had?”

“Three in my ass,” Bucky said. “Four in my mouth.”

Somehow, that made Peter’s eyes darken. He got up and shucked his uniform to the floor and stripped somewhat clumsily out of his clothes. His boxers were stained with pre-come and his dick was hard. Bucky could tell it was thick, with decent length. Kinda like Clint’s. When it came down, it had a distinct rightward curve. Peter came around Bucky pressed his fingers to Bucky’s ass again.

“Fuck, can’t wait to feel you,” Peter murmured. He kissed Bucky’s neck as he pressed his cock into Bucky’s waiting hole. Bucky’s hole made wet, squelching sounds as Peter fucked into him, but for some reason, it was also really hot. Peter’s hands wandered over Bucky’s chest and teased his nipples. Bucky moaned and arched his back against Peter’s body.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” Bucky moaned. “Please, Peter, fuck me, please.”

“God, you feel so damn good,” Peter moaned.

He moved slowly and gently at first, drawing out the moans and sounds from Bucky’s ass. Steve watched them, his eyes dark and hungry as they moved against each other. Bucky half expected him to join in, but he simply stayed there. He leaned back in his chair with his legs spread and his dick tenting his pants prominently with his head propped on one hand and the other slowly moving over his length.

“Fuck,” Bucky moaned. He squeezed around Peter’s length to keep from coming and Peter moaned. He went slowest of the men who’d used Bucky’s ass, like he was savoring the sloppy seconds of Bucky’s ass like they were the best thing on earth. He reached back and pulled Peter deeper inside him. “More, Peter, please.”

“You got it,” Peter moaned. His thrusts grew faster, but stayed gentle. It was a nice change of pace. Bucky angled his face and Peter kissed him hot and open mouthed. His tongue slid along Bucky’s with the same gentleness. Bucky moaned and tightened again around Peter’s length.

“Daddy, please, can I come?” Bucky asked.

“Can you come?” Steve replied. He hummed thoughtfully. “What do you think, Peter?”

“It’d be nice of you to let him come,” Peter said. “It would definitely feel nice.”

“I bet it would,” Steve replied. “Baby, you may come when Peter comes. If you don’t… well, guess you’d have to wait then.”

“Fuck, yes,” Bucky cried. Peter kept fucking him, went faster, the squelching sounds in Bucky’s ass filled his ears, but he couldn’t think of anything but how desperate he was to come. “Come on, Peter. I’m close, let me come, please.”

“Oh, fuck,” Peter moaned. He wrapped a hand around Bucky’s cock and Bucky moaned into his mouth. Peter’s thrusts grew faster, more erratic. He moaned and sighed into Bucky’s mouth… and Bucky felt his cock pulse as he came inside him. Bucky released the walls he held up and cried as he came, his come shooting out onto the table beneath him.

“Thank you,” Bucky breathed when he was done. He slumped, utterly boneless. Peter supported him easily. “Thank you, sir, Peter… thank you.”

“Anytime,” Peter said. “Seriously, I mean, this was fun, so definitely want to do this again.”

Bucky chuckled and kissed Peter again before Peter slid out of Bucky’s ass and gathered up his clothes. He jogged to the elevator and waved at them before going up.

“I like him,” Bucky said.

“I’m not surprised,” Steve replied. “Think you made a friend?”

Bucky smiled and nodded. “Thank you for letting me come, Daddy,” he said. Steve chuckled.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he said. “There are still a couple more people who haven’t fucked you yet. You might not get to come again.”

For some reason, Bucky’s cock twitched at that thought.

He heard the next person before he saw him. He was loud and cheerful and boisterous. When he arrived, Thor drew Steve into a fierce hug. He clapped him on the back and all Bucky could do was gape. Thor was even bigger than he looked on TV. Bucky always assumed that the camera just made him look bigger, but maybe people edited him to look smaller out of fear of what a man his size would be capable of in the imaginations of thirsty bastards everywhere.

Well, Bucky’s imagination anyway.

“It is good to see you again, Steven,” Thor said with a smile. “I am glad to see you are well, it has been too long.”

“Good to see you, too, Thor,” Steve said. “How are the Nine Realms?”

“They are safe and all is well,” Thor replied. “I have some time to be here and help with whatever arises here on Midgard for a while.”

“Good, we’ve missed having you around,” Steve said, a suggestive smile on his face. Bucky had a feeling that Bucky wasn’t the only one in the Tower who had thirsty thoughts about Thor. He could hardly blame anyone for it. Thor was even more sex on legs than Steve was.

Thor looked at him and Bucky’s hole quivered just from that. His eyes darkened as his gaze took Bucky in. Then he smiled and Bucky thought he would melt into a puddle right then and there.

“You have acquired a submissive,” Thor said. “He is lovely. What is your name, boy?”

Fuck me, Bucky thought. “Bucky Barnes, sir, uh, I mean, Your Highness, er… Mr. God of Thunder… sir.”

“Thor is fine, Bucky,” Thor replied with a chuckle. “Or Master if you consent to entertain me.”

“Fuck,” he murmured. He wanted this man to fuck him so bad.

“So, shall I assume from the boy’s… compromised position that he is free for the taking?” Thor asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“He is indeed,” Steve asked. “As long as I stay here and watch.”

“Well, I believe I shall help myself, then,” Thor said with a wide smile. He walked over and petted Bucky’s hair gently before he pushed Bucky to his hands and knees. Steve sat back down in his chair.

“Daddy?” Bucky said.

“Yeah, baby?” Steve asked.

“Can I suck your cock while Thor fucks me?” Bucky asked. “Please?”

Thor chuckled, his callused his hands stroking Bucky’s sides before they reached his ass and squeezed. Bucky moaned.

“It is pleasing how eager he makes such a request,” Thor said. “He is well trained. What say you, Steven?”

Steve smiled before he got up and knelt in front of Bucky’s face. He unzipped his pants and took his cock out.

“I can never deny my baby boy anything when he asks so sweetly,” he purred. “Well, not now, anyway.”

Thor chuckled and Bucky felt the broad head of Thor’s cock at his entrance. He froze.

“Fuck me,” he breathed. Steve chuckled.

“As you wish,” Thor purred. He pushed in and Bucky gasped. Thor was fucking huge. Definitely bigger than Steve. If it weren’t for the fact that Bucky had been getting fucked all day, this would probably be nearly impossible. As it was, it was a bit of a stretch for him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he gasped. Steve smiled sympathetically.

“Just relax, baby boy,” Steve said. “He’s a lot to take, I know.”

Bucky definitely wanted to hear Steve talk about the time he got dicked down by the god of Thunder. Later. He took a deep breath as Thor pressed further into him. Steve pet his hair, told him to breathe as Thor continued his slow, steady penetration.

When Thor finally bottomed out, Bucky gasped. His skin was covered in a layer of sweat. He clung to Steve’s body and Steve held him in turn. Thor was still. Bucky concentrated on breathing, since there wasn’t much else he could do.

“What do they feed you on Asgard, anyway?” Bucky demanded.

“Many things,” Thor replied. “I am considered large even there.”

Bucky huffed. “Why is that not surprising?”

Thor chuckled. “Let me know when you are ready, boy,” he rumbled. “I wish to make this pleasurable for us both.”

Bucky nodded and kept his eyes on Steve. Steve looked down at him and smiled. Bucky could swear he could see a glimmer of pride and approval in his eyes. Bucky shifted up and kissed him. Steve returned it softly.

“Still want my cock, baby?” Steve asked. Bucky chuckled.

“Maybe… maybe next time,” he said.

“Good boy,” he murmured. “Daddy’s good little boy. You’re doing so well, baby.”

Bucky preened at the praise and turned his head to look at Thor out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m ready,” he said.

Thor hummed and began to rock slowly into Bucky’s ass. Bucky whimpered and trembled in Steve’s arms as he felt Thor’s cock move inside him. He still felt like he was being split open, but damn if it send sparks of pleasure amidst the pain up through his body. It was the most amazing mixture of pain and pleasure he’d ever felt. He whimpered and moaned and Steve just held him.

“So tight,” Thor murmured. “He feels so good around my cock.”

“His ass is amazing, it’s true,” Steve replied.

“A shame you found him first,” Thor said. “I should like to have been the one to tame him.”

Steve laughed at that and ruffled Bucky’s hair. Thor slowly started to increase the length of his thrusts, the thick length creating near constant friction against Bucky’s prostate as it pressed against it. Bucky moaned desperately as Thor began to fuck him in earnest.

“Daddy, please can I come when Thor’s done?” Bucky asked. “Please, Daddy?”

“Of course, baby,” Steve said. “You’ve been so good. Daddy’s so proud of you, baby.”

Bucky mewled at the praise and pushed back against Thor’s thrusts. Thor gripped his hip in one hand and with the other, he grabbed Bucky’s hair. Bucky moaned loudly as Thor’s thrusts grew harder. He gasped as he felt Thor’s hips slap against his with each thrust. The only thing he could think about was how good it felt, how much it hurt, how every cell in his body just screamed in unbridled pleasure. Lightning danced over his skin, making him feel alive, see stars, and his head spin.

Thor grunted and growled and groaned as he shot his load into Bucky’s ass. Bucky moaned as Thor’s hot, thick come filled his ass. Thor fucked him through his orgasm. As soon as Thor was done, Steve wrapped a hand tightly around Bucky’s cock and in a few short strokes, Bucky came in his hand, his ass tightening around Thor’s still hard cock.

He was dimly aware of Thor pulling out of his ass. He slumped boneless and spent in Steve arms.

“Red,” he breathed. “I’m done.”

“Good boy. Thor, could you untie his ankles from the table for me?” Steve asked.

“Of course,” Thor replied. Bucky sighed happily as his legs were freed. “I must say I enjoyed this immensely. I wish you both a pleasant evening.”

“See ya,” Steve said.

Then he scooped Bucky up and walked to the elevator. They went back up to Steve’s apartment. It was late, Bucky was hungry, sweaty, tired, and sated. Steve took him to the bathroom and lowered him into the tub gently as he filled it with warm water and orange and ginger scented bubbles. He cleaned Bucky tenderly before he stepped in with him. He sat behind him and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s body as he held him close.

“You did so good today, baby,” he murmured. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Bucky sighed.

“Did you have fun?” Steve asked. “That was a lot for you to do in one day.”

“I did,” Bucky replied. “But… maybe not all the time. You’re enough for me most of the time, Daddy.”

Steve smiled and kissed his hair. Bucky closed his eyes and relaxed into the comfort of Steve’s body and affection.

[werevulvi]

I've been thinking a lot lately... about my detransition. That in some sense I kinda want to look manly, physically, but not be a man. Like I don't wanna be bio male even if I could. I'm happily female. I love my wide hips, vagina, soft skin and other female sex traits, but I also like looking a little manly, with male secondary sex traits. Like it gives a nicely rough edge to my otherwise softness that I can't help but adore. I do like looking a little... fugly. Like a ragged pet cat or dog with odd features that's still totally adorable.

Just like that ragged pet cat or dog, I don't wanna look like a propped up, plasticky and dolled up version of my human species. I may be feminine but not like that. For me femininity is creativity, and the moment it starts limiting my life negatively, I need to take a step back and review my priorities.

My dysphoria seems to change again. Becoming less intense, more bearable. Which allows me to take a step closer towards it. Thouch it with less panic and sadness.

I still love my beard, and that I have the ability to grow it. I can't part with it. I can go weeks, even months, completely hating it and just wanting it gone, but then I always end up breaking down, exclaiming to myself in panic how much I love it and don't ever want to lose it. That means something, even if it's seldom.

Back in my transitioning, when I still lived as a man, I really loved my beard and showed my love to it. I grew it out to a couple of inches and shaped it into a "ducktail" style (pointy and neat full beard) that took a long time and many trials and errors to learn how to get it right. It grows thick and very evenly all over. Even where it's thinner it's faded and symmetrical. I know I've wanted to be able to grow such a beard ever since I was 12 years old, but thought it was a pipe dream. It wasn't. It became my reality. I bought tons of products for it: schampos, conditioners, oils, brushes, even jewellery. I loved caring for it, brushing, washing, trimming, styling, dyeing. And when at home alone I loved just stroking it and resting my hand in its fluffiness.

It was both a comfort and an accesory.

No matter how many times I've said since my detransitioning that I hate my beard... the truth is I don't. I hate my skin problems that get way worse because of my beard no matter what I do with it. I hate the societal shit that comes along with having it as a feminine woman. The pressure to be hairless is impending. Not just to be considered "attractive" but to be flat out "not ugly" or "gross." Gender confines me, as it does for probably most women. Trying to be feminine as I want to be while still retaining my freedom to be natural feels like society is telling me I can't both have the cake and eat it at the same time. Oh the irony, am I right?

Just because I'm maybe 80% feminine, the 20% of me that isn't is a struggle in this world. That 20% that loves having a beard, a deep voice, refuses to wear high heels, grow long nails or wear a wig to cover my receeded hairline. That wants to take space, spread my legs and pick my nose in public, that takes pride in being scarred cause it's a sign of my survival, that curses like a sailor even in front of children, wants to learn how to fight and defend myself, and won't ever say "I'm sorry" for shit I have not done wrong or stay silent when men are being shitty. That is a lesbian and doesn't care much for men.

The ruthless warrior in me that needs to exist just as much as the princess in me. I am the yin to my own yang and both sides need to be able to co-exist peacefully together.

My clothes, makeup, beard, deep voice or my breast forms don't determine or define if I'm a man or a woman. My bio sex does, and it says female. Then it doesn't, or shouldn't, matter that other people think I'm a man in drag or a fake detransitioner... cause apparently I did so well in my efforts to appear male during my transition (and god knows I put in a lot of effort) that now the irony is I'm not believed to really be a woman in my nervous detransition when I'm finally ready to embrace my bio sex, after many years of trauma that made me try to escape my reality.

I may laugh and shake my head at the irony in that, but the actual situation is quite horrible to be in. I try to shake it off and ignore however I'm perceived by random strangers that I don't give a fuck about, but the world around me affects me against my will. How can I freely choose to not pass as female when I don't want to be or see myself as a man, or even as masculine? And no, I don't think of myself as non-binary at all. I'm not even trans, the way I see it. I'm just a hairy, deep-voiced woman without tits, that's all. I think of it as that I don't have a gender at all, and I don't think gender as an innate thing is real. Although I'm sure people feel whatever they feel. But I'm just a bio female person who's finally made peace with my natal anatomy to have for myself to love, but also detransitioning and struggling to figure out what I really want with that.

I only have one body and one life. I need to make the best and most of it, to the best of my ability. And if I can't, then it's better to do nothing.

I need to avoid making more permanent changes that I'd end up regretting. I know that if I'd get my beard lasered off I'd regret it, with no way of getting it back. I can't put myself through that pain. But is the pain of living with the beard worse in the long run? That's what I can't figure out. So I'm kinda stuck between a rock and a hard place about that.

I don't know what I want to do with my body, or my life. I can't put the two together. How to implement my body into my life and make the two work together. What to do with this half transitioned, masculinised mess that my body became, I do not know. What kind of activities I want to fill my life with and how. If I could ever have a job, or even cats. How to manage practicing karate or go swimming with the massive inconveniences and insecurities that my face and chest are. How to manage a relationship and sex with all this grief and fluctuating dysphoria weighing me down and killing my mood. How to deal with any and all kinds of social interactions, private and public ones, when my body is what it is.

I created this god damned mess and I don't know how to detangle it.

Cause it makes me feel so many painful things about the way I look. The very visible, life altering effects of my traumas. It's hard to face, it's hard to love. My transition traits feels much like scars from abuse... but who would I be without them? They're part of me now, thus they are lovable, and they don't make me ugly. What is it even that I regret? That my traumas made me dysphoric so to the point I thought I was trans and that transitioning was the only way I could survive? That I didn't figure out earlier that transitioning was the wrong move for me? That I forced myself, despite my alarming doubts, to go through with top surgery, because I saw no other way?

It's a tragedy and I do grieve, but I only tried to do the best that I could with what I knew about myself back then, and unfortunately it was the wrong route. I forgive myself for that. Because no one should be beat up for such a mistake. That I don't look clearly either male or female puts me off, but I also don't want to change it, other than my chest.

The more I think of it, it's not so bad and I can make art with that too. I want to make art of my pain... not erase it.

Would the gender clinic grant me new tits and let me change my legal gender marker back to female, if I decide to keep my beard, though? I'm a little worried about that. Also if they'd medically classify me as non-binary due to wanting to have both male and female sex traits, I'd fucking raise HELL. Medical praxis my ass, no one mis-labels me with bullshit that goes against my beliefs, against my will. Just saying.

It's been almost 9 months since I began my detransition at the beginning of July last year, and I've been on and off about almost every trait/part that I changed to appear more male ever since then. It seems my chest is the only thing I've been sure about all along. But I'll need to challenge that too. Would going out without a bra under my dress really be so bad? We'll see. I seem to be morbidly fascinated by my own misery.

Detransitioning is such a strange experience.

[fatestemptress]

Paramount Remembrances - Chapter 3

Summary: Dean Winchester has reached a point in his life where he doesn’t have many firsts left to fulfill.  Except maybe falling in love.  This is the story of how he got there.

Warnings: Smut. Lots and lots of smut.  Oral (male & female receiving).  Dry humping.  Backseat sex. Teaching/Guiding. 18 Plus ONLY! 

Pairings: Young Dean x OFC, Dean x OFC, Dean x Reader (Eventually)

Word Count On this Chapter: 1,857

A/N: This fic is getting waayyy longer than I intended.  Trying to condense it, but it’s getting away from me and the plot bunnies keep bouncing around in my brain.  Sorry?

Dean was nineteen when an older woman taught him how to eat a girl out.

He had been helping his dad gather up information on a case, posing as a college kid who worked for the school paper. When he went to interview one of the women who witnessed objects flying around a room on their own in her friend’s house, he figured he’d see a housewife with an apron on and a spatula in hand.  

Instead, the woman who had opened the door had been breathtaking.  

Her bright green eyes had practically fucking sparkled and her silky long brown hair had surrounded her face in waves.  Her body was encased in a stretchy black pencil skirt with a white button up tucked in. The highest pair of black heels Dean had ever seen on a woman finished off the outfit and it wasn’t hard to picture them up in the air and over his shoulders.

A dazzling smile shot out at him as she placed an earring in her ear, seemingly in the midst of getting ready to go out, “Hi, can I help you?”

“Ummmm, yeah, Mrs. Lyla Fitzgerald?”

She smiled again, “Ms. Lyla Fitzgerald, actually. But yes, what can I do for you?”

Dean scratched behind his ear as he nervously adjusted his jacket, “I, uh, my name is Dean and I work for the college paper and I was wondering if you’d have the time to answer a few questions about the strange occurrences at your friend Jackie Silverstein’s house.”

Lyla gave him a good look from the bottom of his scuffed boots to the tip of his slightly indented nose before opening the door, gesturing for him to come in.

A wave of expensive perfume hit his nose as he passed her, and Dean took a deep breath of it in, “Thanks for sparing some time for me Ms. Fitzgerald.  I appreciate it.”

“Please.  Call me Lyla.”  She led him to her kitchen and gestured to the breakfast bar where there were four bar stools, “You’re making a twenty-eight-year-old feel like she’s in her fifties.”

Dean let a lazy grin slide over his face, “Apologies, Ms., uh, Lyla.”

She leaned over the counter on the other side of him, effectively affording him a view down her white button-down shirt and he had to force his gaze back up to her amused, knowing ones.

“No apologies necessary, Dean.  Now, what can I do for you?”

Turned out there was a lot she could do for him.

Lyla had invited him back to the house that night stating she had something for him that may help his article.  

She had answered the door with nothing on but a short silky black robe, those sexy as fuck heels and a glass of white wine in her hand.

Needless to say, when she had smiled and reached up to bring his lips down to hers, the sweet taste of wine on her tongue permeating his mouth, he hadn’t stopped her.

And when she leaned over the kitchen counter and lifted that silk black robe to reveal her clean-shaven pussy, Dean had eagerly run his fingers over her folds before taking her against the counter.

Later, in her bedroom, after having had those black heels by his ears as he had mouthed at her smooth calf and thrust in wild abandon into her wet core, Lyla turned to Dean and licked at a droplet of sweat on his neck, “I wanna come again.”

Dean let out a small laugh, “You’re gonna have to give me a few minutes, Sweetheart.”

She licked down his chest and swirled a tongue over his flat nipple, “Just eat me out, honey.  And then when you’re ready we’ll fuck again.”

A blush ran up his face and he swallowed hard, “I, uh, haven’t ever, I mean…”

Lyla sat up and stared at him, “You’ve never gone down on a woman before?”

He cleared his throat, “Uh, no.”

“Well, do you want to learn?”

His eyebrows scrunched together as his embarrassment was quickly overruled by intrigue, “You’d do that?”

“Oh honey, I will be happy to give you the gift that keeps on giving.”

The next thing he knew he was leaning up against her headboard, with her back leaning against his chest and her firm body tucked in between his legs, a wet washcloth in her hands as she guided his hand over core, “We’re gonna make sure you’re first experience is memorable.  Trust me if you’re not ready for it, the taste of condom isn’t cute.”

He nodded watching over her shoulder as the white washcloth rubbed against her hairless pussy, wiping away the essence of their earlier coupling, and he couldn’t help but bring his free hand up to her bare breast and pinch a nipple in between his thumb and forefinger.

“Mmmm, that feels good.” Lyla purred and threw the washcloth somewhere on her bedroom floor, “Now, first things first.  Let me introduce you to the most important part of a women’s anatomy.  The clitoris.”

She brought a hand down and separated her folds with two fingers, “You see that little bud right there? If you rub or suck it just right, you can make a woman’s eyes cross.  Now give me your hand.” Lyla guided his long fingers over to her mouth, “Nobody likes a dry pussy.”  She tilted her head back to look at him as she sucked his three middle fingers into her mouth and licked at the pads with a practiced tongue and Dean could feel his half hard cock swelling to full size.

“Fuck, Lyla.  That’s hot.”

She hummed around his fingers before letting them go with a pop and bringing them to the now hard button at the top of her heat.  She helped him press down and roll his fingers over it as her hips canted up slightly into the movements, “Start out nice and slow.  This is a sensitive area and some women can’t even have direct pressure on it.  Always, always pay attention to your partner’s reactions.”  

Dean leaned his chin on her shoulder watching his fingers intently, his breaths leaving in jagged puffs of air, “You seem to be just fine with it.”

“Mmmm, that’s cause I’m a woman who loves it hard and rough.  Not all of those college girls will be able to appreciate a good hard fuck just yet. Now, let’s bring your fingers down to the hole and dip them in.  Oh, yeah, just like that.  Let’s get all that wetness and bring it back to the top.  Press a little harder this time.”

Soon, Dean could feel how big her clit had swelled as he finger fucked her with one hand and rubbed at the top of her heat with the other.  His hips were moving involuntarily as he rubbed his hard cock against her back.  Meanwhile, Lyla had thrown her head against his shoulder and was thrusting her hips into his touch, her hands caressing her breasts and pinching at her hard nipples.

“Such a good student. That feels so fucking good.”  She moaned one last time before reaching down and staying his hands. She picked up one of his slick laced hands and brought it to his mouth, “Taste it.  If you can’t handle this part, then you won’t be able to eat a girl out properly.  You have to love it.  ‘Cause when you eat a pussy you gotta have your tongue and mouth all up in there.”

Dean obediently opened his mouth and tentatively licked at his fingers.  The salty, sweet taste hit his taste buds and he hummed and opened his mouth wide and, much to Lyla’s delight, sucked the rest of his fingers in, licking away every piece of her essence he could find.

Oh yeah.  He could definitely fucking do this.

“Can I-can I eat you out now?”

Lyla’s eyes closed as she shifted her legs against the ache in her core, “Get your ass down there already.”

Dean eagerly slid his way out from behind her and lay on his stomach in front of her open legs, “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

A small laugh left Lyla’s lips as she looked down into Dean’s grin.  She caressed his cheek in her hand before pulling him towards her, “Give me one long lick first.  Start from the bottom to the top.  Then suck right here.  Hard.”

Dean stared into Lyla’s core with a little bit of apprehension.  He wanted to do this.  But he wanted to do it right.  

Lyla seemed to sense his hesitation and reached down and opened herself up to him, “Right here, Honey. Put your tongue here first.”

Dean looked up into her eyes and gently placed her legs over his shoulders.  At her encouraging wink, he leaned forward and opened his mouth and stroked his tongue just as she asked for before sucking her clit into his mouth.

It was so erotic yet so intimate.  Putting his mouth on her core, tasting her sweet and salty essence, feeling her legs tense around him in pleasure as she leaked more of her excitement onto his tongue; all of it made his cock swell even further and he groaned against her as he rolled his tongue around her clit and sucked again.

Lyla let out a deep breath, “Mmmm, just like that, Honey.”  

It wasn’t too long later that Dean had two fingers deep inside Lyla’s soaking wet core, rubbing against the rough  spot she had led him to, rapidly moving them in and out as he eagerly sucked and licked at her clit, moaning as she grabbed at the short strands of his hair, “Oh my God. Yes!  Take your other hand and rub right there with your thumb. Harder.  FUCK YES!”

Lyla’s hips thrust up into Dean’s face as she came, her body shuddering in completion.  She rolled her hips against his tongue once more before stopping him, “Okay, okay.”  She gasped out, “Very sensitive.”

Dean licked his lips and grinned up at her, “Sooooo….was that good?”

She smiled back, “Fucking awesome.  You’re a natural.  I’ll give you an A plus plus.”

He sat up and fist pumped into the air making Lyla laugh at his antics, until her eyes strayed down to the leaking hard-on he was sporting, “Looks like someone is ready to make another appearance.  Come here.”

Dean spent the rest of the night being fucked and sucked into a different dimension.  He left Lyla’s house two days later with a new appreciation for a woman’s body and with skills that would stay with him for life.

His father had solved the case without him, sans any notes Dean may have provided.

It had been worth having his father berate him for hours about disappearing and being responsible about checking in.  He had listened and nodded and Yes Sir’d at all the right times.  

But inside he was smiling so hard he was surprised he wasn’t fucking glowing.  

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Dean was twenty-three when he learned the old adage, “Be careful of the quiet ones.”, was true.

Chapter 4

@chook007 @scorpiongirl1

[hale-of-stiles-heart]

College!AU 7 minutes of heaven ?

Here we have some self-indulgent nerdy!Cas and jock!Dean who’s actually a huge sweetheart! (also on ao3)

Castiel was going to kill his brothers. He was going to slit their throats, eviscerate them, and burn their bodies just for fun. Right after he got out of the closet they had locked him.

He banged his fist against the door again. As expected, there was no response from either Gabriel or Balthazar, the fucking bastards. Trying again, he growled, "Gabriel! Let me out of here!"

"No can do, baby bro," Gabriel's sing-song voice sounded through the door, slightly muffled yet full of glee. "It hasn't even been a minute yet!"

"Let me out!" Castiel hissed, desperation bleeding into his voice. Smacking his palm against the door hard enough to make it tremble on its hinges, he snarled, "I'm gonna kick both of your asses!"

"Oh, please, Cassie. You couldn't kick your own ass," Balthazar scoffed from the other side of the door. Castiel could perfectly envision his brother's eye roll as he reported, in his smarmy accent, "Now, just enjoy your time with the hairless ape and send me a fruit basket later for my efforts."

"Give it up, dude," another voice instructed, this one much closer than Gabriel and Balthazar's. "They're not letting us out till our seven minutes are up."

Castiel let out a huff, pushing his glasses further up his nose, a habit of his exacerbated by stress and anxiety both of which he had in spades thanks to his siblings. Crossing his arms over his chest, Castiel narrowed his eyes at his closet cell mate.

In the low light of the closet, he could just barely make out Dean's defined features. He could see the firm, sharp line of Dean's jaw, the disheveled mess of his not quite light brown not quite dirty blonde hair, the soft plush pink of his bottom lip.

His shoulders were so wide he almost had to hunch them just to fit into the closet they had been unceremoniously shoved into. His gray Guns N' Roses t-shirt was stretched tight across his chest and biceps, half of the latter on full, unabashed display.

Cas shifted awkwardly, dipping his chin and staring down at his hands as he fiddled with the hem of his own t-shirt. He raised his head, snapping his eyes up to Dean's, when Dean grunted, "What's your problem, dude?"

Castiel's problem was that twenty eight years ago his father had decided to have another child, a son named Gabriel who made it his mission in life to torment his younger siblings. Well, that wasn't entirely true. There was only one younger sibling Gabriel tormented. Castiel.

Why, Castiel didn't know, especially since Gabriel had an unusually large pool of younger siblings to pick from. But ever since he could remember, Gabriel had been a thorn in his side, a thorn he loved dearly but a thorn nonetheless.

Balthazar, who was two years younger than Gabriel and six years older than Castiel, had followed in his brother's footsteps and devoted his life to ruining Castiel's. It was a family business, apparently.

When Castiel was in junior high school, his older brothers had wrapped every single thing in his room in sparkly gold wrapping paper. And he meant everything. Every last pen, book, and article of clothing he had opened had to be unwrapped.

In high school, they had broken into the school in the middle of the night and filled his locker with glitter. For the next two years of high school, he had still been finding glitter in his textbooks and spiral notebooks.

Now, in his junior year of college, his older brothers had locked him in a closet with the guy he'd had a crush on for months. Because, as he'd said, his brothers were assholes and took advantage of his weakness for vodka to question him about the identity of his mysterious, pathetic crush.

When Gabriel and Balthazar had learned it was none other than Dean Winchester, resident overconfident, overcompensating butch jock, they'd had a field day. The teasing had seemed endless, full of jokes about Cas falling for a textbook example of a closet case and actual ballads written about the dorky English Literature major falling for the cocky football player.

Castiel had met Dean in his music class, an elective that would count as an art class. Balthazar had suggested that he take a music class rather than a visual art class since he was already a rather good painter, encouraging Castiel to learn a new skill.

Dean had caught his attention the second he walked into the room, sauntering in with half-lidded eyes and a lazy smirk. Castiel had been so captivated by Dean's good looks that he hadn't even noticed the green eyed man had taken a seat beside him and introduced himself.

Castiel had belatedly snapped to attention and shaken Dean's hand, introducing himself and trying not to drool at the adorably confused look Dean had given him. Then, he'd had to refrain from sighing dreamily when Dean gave him a nickname, the name Cas sounding so sweet on his lips.

The only thing sweeter was the melody Dean strummed on an acoustic guitar for the class after admitting to their professor that he already knew how to play a few instruments.

Over the rest of the semester, he had gotten to know Dean much better whenever their professor paired them up, Dean more than happy to help Castiel with remembering chords on the guitar. Three months after first meeting the model gorgeous football player, Castiel knew all sorts of things about him: he had a younger brother named Sam; drove a 1967 Chevy Impala; was majoring in automotive technologies so he could work at his family friend Bobby's garage; loved pie more than life itself; and was a proud bisexual despite all of his machismo that screamed 'white straight dude'.

But even knowing that Dean was in fact attracted to men, Castiel had no delusions about Dean having any interest in him. Dean was extremely out of his league, in a whole other world, with his rugged handsomeness and brilliant mind.

He had told his brothers as much since they were complete assholes, they had taken it upon themselves to drag Castiel to each and every one of Dean's football games. Castiel had never been one to enjoy sports but he had certainly taken guilty pleasure in watching Dean on the field as his brothers shouted all sorts of obscenities at the opposing team.

They had outright told him that they would never let him live his crush down. Which is why he should have been more suspicious when they both stopped mentioning Dean altogether.

He should have been more suspicious when they announced they were throwing a party at their house. When they invited a bunch of college kids despite the fact that they were both nearing their thirties.

But he hadn't been. Mostly because he had plans to barricade himself in his bedroom with some snacks so he could catch up on Game of Thrones.

Yet, an hour into the party, Gabriel practically carried him out of his bedroom and downstairs to where a crowd of people were drinking from red solo cups and dancing horribly to songs that barely had any lyrics. His grumbling had only been stopped by Balthazar thrusting a cup of vodka into his hand, the liquor mellowing him out a bit.

Enough that he didn't put up any fight when his brothers guided him over to the back room where a group of people were sitting in a circle on the floor, an empty beer bottle in the center of the circle. He was too focused on the fact that Dean was sitting in the circle, wearing a faded GNR shirt and dark jeans, his hair messy and the stubble on his jaw longer than usual.

Castiel had been just buzzed enough to not be suspicious of his brothers, just buzzed enough to completely tune Gabriel out as he explained the rules of the game. He had been too busy gazing at Dean with a dreamy smile on his face, riveted to the way Dean stuck the tip of his tongue out as he spun the empty Heineken bottle.

The next thing he knew, he was being led into the hallway closet with Dean as the others in the circle tittered like a bunch of old biddies. Among the cacophony of sounds from the party, Castiel managed to hear someone mumble a phrase he recognized, "Seven minutes in heaven."

Of course, the words only registered once his brothers locked the closet door, trapping him and Dean inside. Running a hand through his hair, he huffed and answered Dean's question, "My problem is that my brothers are assholes and locked me in a closet."

"Kinda the whole point of seven minutes in heaven, Cas," Dean pointed out, the use of the nickname making a swarm of butterflies take flight in Castiel's stomach. Scratching his jaw, Dean wondered aloud, "Were you even listening?"

Castiel felt himself blush. Rubbing his arm, he stared down at his shoes and reluctantly admitted, "Not really, no. I was a somewhat distracted."

"Oh, really?" Dean hummed, as though Castiel's confession was extremely fascinating. Castiel glanced up out of curiosity, finding Dean taking a few small steps closer, tipping his head to the side to meet Castiel's gaze. "Any reason you were so distracted?"

Castiel froze, his eyes widening as he blinked up at Dean. There was no way Dean could know, right? Castiel was always very careful about not being too obvious with his pathetic pining.

Then again, he'd had enough vodka to make him forget about his inhibitions for just a little while. And he had been doing some intense staring while sitting in that stupid circle.

His worst fears were confirmed when Dean spoke again. A smirk curling his lips, he shifted closer and casually inquired, "Maybe you were staring at someone?"

There was a cocky, teasing note in his voice that made Castiel's blood boil. Yes, he had been gawking at Dean and yes, he had a ridiculous crush on him but Dean didn't have to be such an asshole about it.

He said as much as he glared at Dean, folding his arms over his chest. "Okay, I like you. You happy now?"

"Wasn't expecting you to admit it that easily," Dean commented, raising his brows. He continued inching closer, drifting into Castiel's personal space. Setting his hands on Castiel's hips, he tacked on, "But since you asked... I'm very happy."

With that, he bent his head and kissed Castiel.

Having never been kissed before, much to his brothers' amusement, Castiel had no idea what he was supposed to do. He flailed a little as Dean pressed their lips together in a surprisingly chaste kiss before laying a hand on Dean's upper arm to steady himself.

Dean pulled back a moment later, reopening his eyes with a smile that could only be described as dopey. His brows drew together and he huffed out a laugh, his breath warm against Castiel's lips as he teased, "Never woulda thought you'd be the type to kiss with your eyes open."

Castiel flushed, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole so he could escape his embarrassment. Of course, he was supposed to close his eyes while kissing. God, he was such an idiot.

"I'm not the type to kiss. Period," Castiel admitted, lowering his eyes again. When he chanced a look upward, he was greeted by Dean's incredulous expression.

"You've never been kissed before?" Dean asked softly, inexplicable disbelief hushing his voice. When Castiel nodded, Dean blurted, "Really? But you're so cute!"

Castiel was immensely flattered by that, ducking his chin as he bit his bottom lip. He could feel his face flush with heat, thankful for the darkness in the room.

"Oh, shit," he heard Dean curse, the football player taking a step back. Castiel's eyes shot up when Dean apologetically rambled, "Are you ace? Or aro? Are you not into kissing? Shit, I'm sorry, I thought—"

"Dean," Castiel said simply, cutting Dean off before he could apologize for anything else. He tightened his grip on Dean's arm, reeling him in again as he explained, "I've just never had occasion to kiss anyone. I'm not asexual or aromantic."

"Oh," Dean murmured, nodding thoughtfully. It took another second for the apologetic look on his face to melt away into a charming grin as Dean announced, "Well, that's a relief. Because I'd really like to kiss you again."

"What are you waiting for?" Castiel asked, Dean's confession sparking his own boldness. He curled his fingers into the fabric of Dean's sleeve as he whispered, "We have a few more minutes left in heaven."

With that said, he leaned up to kiss Dean, remembering to close his eyes this time. Heaven is right, Castiel thought as Dean eagerly returned the kiss.

Maybe his brothers weren't such assholes after all. He was still going to kick their asses, though.

Send me Destiel prompts!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Great Minds Think Alike

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean, John (mentioned throughout)

Word Count: 2,828

Warnings: None, just fluff

Request:  I freaking loved one in the same, and I was wondering if you could do a version for Sammy?

One in the Same

You don’t need to read this one first but this is that is the Dean version of it. 

Author’s Note: Please, send in requests because I love reading them and I love writing them! If you would like to be tagged in my future fics and my Series Rewrite that is coming soon, let me know and I’ll add you!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom (if you wished to not be tagged, let me know and I’ll remove you)

Hunting was always what you enjoyed doing. You didn’t plan on entering the life; in fact, you grew up as a normal child. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It started in high school when a bung of your friends wanted to go camping in the woods where no one went.

You never wanted to go in the first place. You thought that sitting in bed, reading a god book was more appealing than going camping and drinking until your brain fell out. You were always a shy and reserved girl, always reading books and doing the right thing.

You loved to read anything from Shakespeare to fairytales. Even though you mostly read non-fiction, you enjoyed fiction from time to time. As you grew older, you distant yourself from your friends so you could focus on school and get your degree in Creative Writing. But none of that happened because you had to go camping.

At first, they dismissed the rustling and growls as “just the wind” but then they got louder and closer. You hated being out there with friends who weren’t really your friends. You thought you saw red eyes in the dark but when you blinked, they were gone. Everyone there called you crazy and you tried to be as relaxed as they were but you knew better.

The thing attacked Christina first, dragging her into the woods by her hair. Then it got Trevor and Alice, taking them with it to God knows where. The rest of you tried to take cover, using sticks and rocks as weapons against the hairless creature.

You didn’t know what would happen to you because you were a tiny little thing, you had no chance up against this thing. It already took the strongest man there out so who were you to stand a chance? If it wasn’t for John Winchester, you would be dead. He came out into the woods with another man, attacking the thing like they’ve been doing it their wholes lives.

Half of your friends were either gone or dead. The ones that were alive, already left, leaving you behind to deal with the aftermath. The man that John was with left to go find the others to see if they were alive while John gladly took you home.

It was then that you learned that the things in the night were very much real. He didn’t want to give out too much, afraid of corrupting you but you were intrigued. You’ve always thought that lore and the supernatural were always fascinating to you so could you blame the man when you started reading up?

You learned so much that year. You even found a case where it looked as if a demon was acting up in a town nearby. You immediately jumped at the chance, learning how to take them down and how to protect yourself.

That first time, didn’t go so well but that didn’t stop you. You were always determined and soon enough, you got good and then you got great. Hunting was your life all thanks to John Winchester. You didn’t blame him for one second because if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be doing the things you love. You wondered if John was still alive or not.

That is why you dropped out of college and took up hunting as a full- time career. You traveled the United States, saving people and even meeting a few hunters on the way. You know you could be a better hunter but like everything else, practice makes perfect.

You started getting in shape and eating right because hunting was a chore. It kicked your ass sometimes so you met up with person trainers here and there, having them train you to fight better and to muscle up. You were still a tiny woman but you had a lot of muscle now. You always worked out in the morning so that you never fell out of shape and so far, you love the results.

However, this morning, you were in a diner right after dawn, reading on some more lore. You were currently on a case, trying to figure out what you were dealing with. It was quiet and you enjoyed it while it lasted. You sipped your coffee and sat in the back booth, away from everyone else.

“Excuse me?” You looked up when you heard a deep voice. Your eyes fell on two very attractive men. One was with long brown hair and warm hazel eyes. He was tall, easily reaching 6’3, maybe taller than that. He was built, you could tell even through the suit he was wearing.

The other man was very tall but shorter than Hazel eyes. He had piercing green eyes and short dirty blonde hair. He too, was built and you wondered why men you liked didn’t look like this. You didn’t know what they were doing here, talking to you at this early in the morning.

“I’m Agent Crawford and this is my partner, Agent Smith. May we have a seat?” Hazel eyes asked in a soft voice. Both men took out badges and you looked at them, seeing they were FBI. What were the FBI doing here? Why would they want to talk to you?

“Sure,” You moved your book, marking your page before shutting it. “My name is Y/N. What can I do for you, Agents?”

“We’re in town investigating the murder of Louise Marsh. You didn’t happen to know her?” Crawford asked.

“I’m sorry, I’m in town visiting,” You couldn’t possible tell these two that you were “investigating” the same woman.

“I understand. Is there anything you might have heard or seen?” Smith asked, eyeing you.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could be more of help.” You touched your book and bit your lip softly.

“What are you reading?” Crawford asked, looking at your book.

“Just some lore. I find the supernatural pretty fascinating. Some may say that these creatures are real.” You smiled at them.

“Real? Come on, sweetheart, aren’t you a little too old to be imagining?” Smith asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know, Agent Smith. The world is a strange place. Maybe you’re imagining the world as this perfect little thing. It’s not. I’ve seen crazy things that you wouldn’t believe. Things that would scare a man like you.” You didn’t want to give everything away but you wished they would go away so you could work on the case.

“Care to share?” The more attractive and taller one ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Don’t you have a case to work on? I bet talking to me is a waste of your precious time.” You sipped your coffee and looked at Crawford.

“Please? Anything you can tell us, we promise to believe.”

“Yeah, try us, sweetheart.” The other man said. You didn’t know what compelled you to tell them but you thought you could trust them.

“Honestly? Louise wasn’t murdered by anyone but rather by a something. I’ve narrowed it down to a Qareen or a demon. Although I’m sure I would have found sulfur somewhere in her apartment…” You started to trail off as you talked to yourself, forgetting about the men the more you thought about it.

“Maybe it isn’t a demon at all. The woman, before she died, called police and they said that she was being hunted by her ex. But that doesn’t make any sense…” You thought out loud.

“Are you a hunter?” Your eyes snapped up to the men sitting across from you with surprised looks.

“You’re not FBI agents, are you?” You would have been locked up if they were real.

“My name is Sam and this is my brother Dean. We’re trying to hunt this thing too. If you want, we can work together?” Sam gave you very adorable puppy eyes to try and convince you.

“Sure, that would be great. I could use the help.” You chuckled.

“So what were you saying? It could be a what?” Dean asked.

“More coffee?” The waitress came by and smiled at you with the coffee pot.

“Sure, thank you. Sam, Dean, do you want anything?” You offered the men.

“Sure, I’ll have a stack of waffles and a couple sides of bacon with some coffee.” Dean grinned. You were such a healthy eater and that didn’t sound promising.

“Just a cup of coffee would be great, thank you.” The woman nodded and wrote down what they said before leaving.

“Those things are really bad for you. Do you eat like that all the time?” You asked, not realizing that it sounded rude.

“Oh, not you too. Sam here is already a health nut.” Dean rolled his eyes. You looked over to him and smiled, liking Sam even more. Hunting with these two didn’t seem so bad anymore.

“So anyways, this thing is called a Qareen. They are very much like a genie that can be controlled by someone who possesses their heart. Now this heart is separate from the being and that’s why this genie can move around. It’s almost like a shapeshifter that will take on a person’s deep dark desire to seduce them and then kill them.”

“Wow, you got that in one book?” Sam asked, a smile on his face.

“Oh please, this is baby stuff.” You smiled but Sam wouldn’t take his eyes off you.

“So, tell us more about this creature and why you’re so certain it’s the thing we’re looking for.” Dean said, trying to stay on topic. You hoped you were right when it came down to it but you were going to find out.  

One week later

Working with Sam and Dean was way more delightful than you thought. With their help, what could have been a couple of weeks’ case, they knocked it out in a week. They knew what they were doing and you wished to be that good. You wanted to tag along with them but didn’t know how to approach the subject.

Right now, you couldn’t talk about that because Dean wanted to go to a bar but you didn’t like this scene at all. Alcohol wasn’t really your friend so you nursed one beer all night.

“Come on, Y/N, you got to have more stories than that.” Dean laughed, finishing off his fourth beer for the night.

“I’m sorry Dean. All I do it hunt and I try to be as quick as I can. I don’t stay when it’s not necessary.” You shrugged.

“So then what do you do when you don’t have a case?”

“Read up on lore or work out. Those kinds of things sooth me.” You looked at Sam to see him grinning at you.

“Oh great, you’re a Sammy 2.0.” Dean huffed out.

“Excuse me?” You looked at Dean when you heard him.

“I like to do those things. He always bashes on it and makes fun of me. I keep telling him that he should start eating right and taking care of himself but he won’t listen.” Sam said with a chuckle.

“No, that isn’t called eating right. That crap isn’t good food at all.” Dean scoffed.

“Dean, it’s good for you. Maybe you should listen to Sam.” You smiled at Sam, feeling more of an attraction to him than his brother.

“That is not the Winchester way.” Dean shook his head, getting up from the small table in the back of the bar.

“Wait, what? Winchester? As in John Winchester? Are you his kids?” Dean stopped and looked at you before looking at his brother.

“Yeah, why? Did you know him?” Dean sat at the table again, interested in where the conversation was going.

“Is he alive?” You had to know. You wanted to thank him.

“No, he passed away years ago.” Sam said gently.

“Why? How did you know him?” Dean asked again.

“He saved my life. He’s the reason I started hunting in the first place. I was out camping with friends when something attacked us. It took half of them but John came in just in time to save me. After that, I knew that creatures were real. So, I dropped out of school to pursue this.” You smile faintly at the memory.

“I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry that John corrupted you.” Dean apologized for his father.

“No, don’t be. I love hunting. I get to make a difference in this world and save lives. Thanks to your father, I got to have purpose in life.” You smiled widely.

“What were you going to school for?” Sam asked before his brother could get a word in.

“Creative Writing. I’ve always wanted to be a writer but I found something that I loved more than writing and that was saving lives.” You and Sam stared into each other’s eyes and that wasn’t missed by Dean. He saw something between the two of you that you or Sam may not have seen.

After that night, Sam and Dean asked you to join them. After that night, your life was changed for the better. You saw a whole new side to the supernatural when you entered the Men of Letters bunker. You were entranced by everything and you owe it all to John Winchester.

As time went on, you and Sam did everything together. You woke up to go for a run with him, you boxed with him, researched with him, ate the same foods, and loved spending time with him. You were falling for him more and more.

You didn’t know if you were ever going to become more than friends but you kept wishing for it to happen. Dean knew that you liked his brother and he knew that his brother liked you. You were good for Sam because it was time for Sam to start with some new. The last person he had a relationship with was Jessica.

Sam deserved to be happy and you deserved to be happy. You were truly happy when you were with Sam. It was like a puzzle piece fell into place and your whole world got brighter.

“Hey Sammy, I think I found us a case.” Dean said, entering the library where you and Sam were reading.

“Really? On what?” You looked up at Dean.

“It’s only a few towns from here but there was someone reporting that they saw a man wolf trying to eat people.” Dean said.

“I hate werewolves. Alright, I’ll go pack.” You got up and smiled at Sam before leaving. Maybe after this hunt, you’ll man up and confess to Sam what you’ve been feeling for a while.

--

“Okay Sam, what are we doing here?” You arrived at the park with Sam after Dean instructed you to.

“I don’t know. I’ll call Dean.” Sam took out his phone as you and him took a seat on the bench.

Make a move or I will tell her how you feel. Sam shook his head and texted back.

There is no case… is there?

Nope.

Sam scoffed and put his phone away. You looked up at him in confusion.

“There is no case.” Sam said.

“What? Then why did Dean send us out here? Not that I’m complaining. It’s a beautiful day outside.”

“He wants me to confess.” Sam said vaguely.

“Confess? Confess what?” You asked in confusion. Sam stretched out, putting an arm on the back of the bench. Damn, his arm radiates so much heat.

“Confess my feelings for you.” You snapped your eyes to his and bit your lip.

“And what would those feelings be?” You whispered.

“Let me show you.” Sam leaned down closer to you but you didn’t dare move. He was still giving you time to stop this if that is what you truly wanted but it wasn’t. You wanted his lips on yours for the longest time.

Sam’s lips pressed against yours gently at first but when he was certain that you wanted this, he kissed you with more passion. He pulled you close to him and moved his lips against yours. They felt like heaven and were so soft.

You could tell he was very experienced because when you opened your mouth to breathe, he slipped his tongue inside. You moaned softly, rubbing his tongue with yours. He wasted no time in exploring each and every inch of your mouth.

When you pulled away, you were actually breathless.

“Wow, Sam, that was…” You couldn’t find the word to explain how you were feeling.

“Amazing.” Sam picked one of the words you were thinking.

“So amazing.” You stared into his eyes with a smile.

“Can that happen again?” Sam asked with hopeful eyes.

“And again and again and again.” You smiled, pulling yourself up to Sam’s face and pressing your lips to his. You were finally content with life and it was all because of a man named John Winchester.

Forever tags:

@shorter-than-sammy

Other tags:

@jensen-jarpad @supernatural-jackles @jpadjackles @impala-dreamer @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala @notnaturalanahi @mysteriouslyme81 @inmysparetime0 @wildfirewinchester @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm @just-another-busy-fangirl

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 2-3

New content, woo! I haven’t snarked chapter 3 before, so this will be fun!

Chapter 2 

Turns out that going into hyperspace didn’t do anything to actually get them out of trouble, which makes me wonder how exactly they’ve managed to get away before if their equipment is so obviously shitty.

Update: As previously stated, the engines are now “too hot” to go back into hyperspace. The rest is still dumb, though.

The approaching ships were just behind them. Two black seekers, angular and sharp, and in between, a giant tracker ship. A monster in the sky.

Well, it’s not really “in the sky” now, is it. Just like there is no day or night in space, which I can’t believe I missed in the first chapter.

Update: The seeker ships are now “Explorers.” Idk why they made this change, but I guess they realized that the names were too similar.

Andi also gets a random flashback to when she saw the “Tracker” ships being announced at the “Academy” and we find out that she’s always wanted to fly. Great, not cliché at all, 10/10.

They’d outrun worse before, but something in Andi’s gut told her this wouldn’t be easy.

How? How did they outrun worse before if they’re struggling to outrun these basic bitches now?

Update: This line has been removed.

“Three of them, coming in from the south. Get to your stations, and prepare for immediate engagement. We’re going dark.”

“Going dark” apparently means that they activate some metal shields. We also find out that their ship is … made of glass? And when the shields “activate”, they somehow, for some reason, lose all light? Except there are windows, so they’re not actually going dark?

Several problems with this, and keep in mind that I’m not a fucking rocket scientist, but still:

I know Sasha is a huge fan or Throne of Glass but … seriously? THEIR SHIP IS MADE OF GLASS?!?!??!!??!! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!!

The way it’s written implies that before the shield closes over the ship, their ship is transparent, because Andi mentions “going dark” despite there being three “view ports” that weren’t there before? Just … why?

And what kind of ass-backwards engineering is this? Is there a huge space saved for just the shields when it’s folded up? What if something gets stuck or the mechanism malfunctions, are you just without a shield now? If the ship is so fragile that it needs extra shields, why the FUCK would you build it out of glass? I’m assuming the glass is SUPER DUPER HARDCORE, but apparently not hardcore enough to withstand a single hit? Then maybe don’t build ships out of glass? Now you’re carrying extra weight just because you chose your aesthetic over practicality and your stupid ship is literally made of glass. And it wouldn’t actually impact the weight or speed of the goddamn ship anway, since the shield is there whether it’s folded or active, so why the fuck isn’t it just on all the time? In fact, I would argue that it would fuck with the ship’s balance more when it’s folded, so you’d have to try to compensate for that instead of building the shields as PART OF THE ACTUAL SHIP, or build the goddamn ship out of metal so you don’t need BOTH A GLASS HULL AND EXTRA SHIELDS. Did they not have anything else “science-fiction-y” for Andi to do so they put this dumbass detail in?

Christ.

Update: There’s no update. They added that the glass is impenetrable but they still apparently need shields.

I’m so done with this and it’s only chapter 2, holy shit.

Andi almost passes out from exhaustion and thinks about some deep and edgy shit again before being pulled back to reality.

Update: There’s a mention of a “Spectre sigil” in the flashback and the Mass Effect vibes that Lira brought are now even stronger. We also find out that Andi is originally from Arcardius, like that Valen bloke. 

“Fike, Andi.” Breck’s voice was deep and throaty. “You didn’t say they were Patrolmen. Godstars, we’re gonna be space bits.”

[…]

“Gilly’s on Harbinger, I’m on Calamity. Permission to engage?”

This dialogue is pure gold.

I’ll point and laugh at Calamity, but all I can think of when they mention Harbinger is ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL and THIS HURTS YOU.

You’re right, Harbinger, it DOES hurt me.

Update: “Godstars, Andi.” Breck’s voice was deep and throaty. “I can see the sigil now. They’re Arcardian Patrol. We’re gonna be space bits.” 

And then Andi felt it.

The lurch.

The bump.

A knife of rage sliced through her. “Those bastards just shot at my ship.”

For a supposedly badass space pirate, you sure do seem surprised.

A bunch of knives of rage are slicing through me as I’m reading this.

“Take them down!” Andi commanded. “Go faster, Lira.” She clenched the armrests, leaning forward as if her body could help her ship pick up speed.

“I’m trying,” Lira said. “We haven’t refueled in weeks, Andi. At this rate, we’ll burn out. We’ll have to lose them instead of outrun them.”

“But without the cloaking system, we’re flying loose as a…”

Lira stopped her with a grin fit for a murderess. “I wasn’t talking about cloaking.”

MURDERESS.

MURDERESS.

M U R D E R E S S

M̪̭̘̗̱͍̟̑̇̐̉͊ͥͭ U R̰͉ D̸̖͖͍̞͚̖̔̔͋ͭͪ̆ Ẹ̒ͩ R͓̦̰̞̼ͧ͝ E̠̙̬ͬͣ͗ͪ̾̐̄̕ Sͩͯ̌͑ Ṣ̡͓ͪ

Update: They removed “murderess”, thank god. Instead, it says: Lira stopped her with a sly grin. “I wasn’t talking about cloaking.” 

So they blast off, again, and Lira seems to be planning to pull ye olde Let’s-Fly-Through-An-Asteroid-Belt-To-Lose-Our-Pursuers trick. Andi freaks out, which makes no sense. There’s no way they haven’t pulled this before, but I guess we need excitement so throw all logic out the fucking window.

I should also mention that IRL asteroids are extremely far away from each other, so going through an asteroid belt wouldn’t be like a tight car chase across a busy market in your average Hollywood piss-yellow Foreign Country. I won’t hold this against Shinsay though since a lot of famous space opera type things pull this too, but it’s worth noting still.

It was then that the ship’s mapping system came on, a cool female voice who guided their path, a comfort in the darkness. But today, the system’s words filled Andi with a cold, trembling dread.

Ah yes, don’t you guys find comfort in the dulcet tones of yous sweet sweet GPS? Why the fuck would you say it gives you comfort and then go UM EXCEPT NOT NOW. You did this in the previous chapter with the stars, too. Like what’s the point of establishing something one moment and then saying the exact opposite the next?

Update: It was then that Memory, the Marauder’s mapping system, came on, a cool female voice that usually guided their path, a comfort in the void of space. But today, Memory’s words filled Andi with a cold, trembling dread. 

Why did they name it ...

Lir raised a bare brow. “Have you no faith, Captain?”

Yes, she’s hairless, we get it. And this really does read like fucking Throne of Glass, except Throne of Glass at least could hide its awkward dialogue behind the “it’s old-timey” excuse, here it just makes no sense.

Andi loosed a breath, and ran her fingers through the ends of her purple and white braid.

Ah, so it wasn’t the space po-po. It was the fashion po-po, coming for Andi and her bad aesthetic.

Update: Andi loosed a breath and ran her fingers through the ends of her purple-and-white braid. 

Or maybe it was the grammar po-po.

Andi tightened her harness, silenced the prox alarms, and settled back as Lira pushed navigated the Marauder toward the Gollanta Asteroid Belt.

The Graveyard of the Galaxy.

The place where ships came to die.

Oh man. How exciting. I wonder if they’ll make it. It’s already the second chapter of the book, anything could happen!

Update: Andi asks Memory to play some classical music, because this is a cheesy action movie now, I guess, and it makes Andi “deep.”

Chapter 3

We seem to be in the POV of someone named Klaren and it’s “year twelve”, whatever that means. It’s all written in italics but I’ll just keep to my format.

THE GIRL WAS BORN TO DIE. 

In darkness she stood with her palms pressed to the cold glass of her tower. She was alone, protected as all of the Yielded were, staring out at the Conduit below. Swirls of black and silver and blue. An endless, starlit sea.

And uuh ... Yeah, that’s about all you need to know about this chapter, tbh. 

Also, the Conduit? A hairless blue space babe named Lira? A Spectre sigil? Harbinger? Y’all. Come on.

I honestly doubt Shinsay have played Mass Effect, but at this point it’s hard not to suspect it. 

This girl is one of the “Yielded”, who are people who do weird shit, I guess, and she’s locked up in her tower and wants to know what it would be like to be free for one day and make her own choices and all that jazz.

Anyway, she sees the sunrise and smiles because pretty! 

If her dreams were true, then someday she would use this smile for greatness. For glory. For the hope of her people.

Today she stood watching, far above the Conduit, as the red sun rose.

Cool cool.

I love the way this chapter absolutely breaks the momentum built up by the previous chapters and how it’s not even in the current timeline and doesn’t really give us any relevant info. 

It’s great.