#bedroom aids

[rotteneldritchhorror]

I will forever love Lydia barkrock as disabled rep in fantasy high

[anony-man]

NSFW Delphi medic headcanons:

Please be forewarned that these ALL revolve around sex. With that being said, enjoy 🤲

First Aid:

— Starting this one off strong! He strikes me as someone who’s pretty sex-positive, despite not having had many experiences with other bots.

— I do think he’d probably prefer to develop very close relationships before entering the “bedroom” stage. Like, you don’t have to be dating, but he’s gonna want to know about you and your personality and your kinks before you fuck.

— Probably knows what he likes, and while he isn’t PUSHY about indulging in those things, he doesn’t mind telling his partner what does and doesn’t feel good, what he wants to try, what role he wants to take on (top/bottom, dom/sub, sadist/masochist BUT EXCLUSIVELY MEDICAL PLAY)

— Very, very kinky. Like, damn… You should see his rope collection.

— Doesn’t really have a preference when it comes to spike over valve. Honestly, if his partner feels up to it, he likes to use both, but the bot version of a clitoris is extremely sensitive on him (think oh god I’m gonna orgasm from only a few seconds of light stroking), so he usually tries to keep it to the spike to begin with. When he’s close to climax, though? You KNOW he’s begging them to absolutely pound his valve.

— When he’s bottoming, he exclusively receives via valve. When he’s topping? Fuck, he uses both.

— By far the most romantic and sensual between the three. He loves kinky sex, sure, but he also loves the tender kisses and exploring his partner’s body and climaxing together and snuggling afterwards. Sex is more intimacy than a way to burn off energy for him, and he loves the bonding happens during it.

Ambulon:

— I don’t mean to project on poor Amby, but he strikes me as someone who’s had a very difficult past with sexual encounters.

— Sort of like First Aid, he prefers to make small connections before getting into bed with someone. He doesn’t necessarily need to do so, but he feels much more comfortable that way.

— Probably the least experienced between the three of them. Also super self-conscious about his sex skills… they’re practically non-existent

— Before First Aid (and Pharma, ngl) took him on as a sort of sex mentee, the majority of Ambulon’s understanding of sex was spike-in-valve, just very basic. With that being said, he’s never been able to really enjoy his sexual encounters so much as just grin and bear them, so he doesn’t immediately know what he likes or what “feels good” to him.

— Between the three of them, Ambulon probably has the lowest sex drive. He enjoys a good frag maybe once a week, and it usually doesn’t get super intense. He’s in and out in about 10-15 minutes, and to him, sex is more of a release of pent-up energy and charge than an enjoyable, pleasurable experience.

— He doesn’t mind kinky sex, but it really isn’t his thing. In fact, it sort of makes him uncomfortable, as he eventually discovers, so he’s encouraged by both First Aid and Pharma to just avoid it overall.

— While he doesn’t love sex, he loves the foreplay, and he really likes the aftercare. Being the big spoon to his partner and sloppy, passionate kisses are a guilty pleasure for him.

Pharma:

— Definitely has the highest body count of the three medics, but not because he’s promiscuous (also, we gotta drop terms like this, if someone wants to have multiple partners fucking LET THEM). It’s mostly because he enjoys sex with others over masturbation, and also because like… he’s just the most sexually active.

— Don’t get me wrong though. His toy collection is equivalent to First Aid’s BDSM collection. Dude has toys of all shapes, sizes, textures, tasks, etc.

— Unlike the other two, I’d say Pharma is almost exclusively a valve mech. He likes the way it feels to get filled up by a big, hefty spike, he loves to be fingered, and he looooves it when bots give him oral. Also, his spike just isn’t that sensitive.

— Between the three of them, I’d say Pharma has gotten lots of mods added to his equipment. He likes things nice and lubricated, so he’s gotten extra lubrication producing spores added to the very inside of his valve. He’s got a few other tricks up there, too, like a rhythmic system that causes his inner valve to heat up when touched (and boy does it get HOT), a sort of squeezing mechanism that caused many an unsuspecting partner to overload on impact, and others that he keeps secret until the deed occurs. He loves surprises, and he especially loves pleasure—and pleasing his partners.

— He likes foreplay, and he loves sex, but he’s not much for aftercare. He doesn’t mind giving, but he doesn’t want to receive it. After a good session, he’s ready to get cleaned up and back to his work.

— Fairly kinky, but he likes to be the top/dominant in the room. One of his favorite things is competing for dominance with his partner, however.

— Rough sex. Sex that leaves his valve aching and his frame covered in paint transfers, sex that has him panting for breath several minutes after he’s finished, sex that has him overloading multiple times in a row.

— Speaking of overloads: Pharma likes to reach orgasm at least twice. He’s very energetic in the bedroom, and he’s always got lots of extra charge to burn off. The first orgasm is definitely the best, but sometimes it takes a few extras to get rid of the extra energy. He usually likes to give his partner a bit of service in between, and enjoys drawing out their orgasms until the very end, so they can climax with a great bit of built-up pressure.

[sleepicore]

Such a relaxing place 🌙⭐️

[thewalrusandmeman]

Here is my collage art for my forthcoming release on October 1st

My Psychedelic interpretation and arrangement of Daniel Johnston’s track Kool-Aid, perfectly timed for Halloween Month Inspired by the version on the wonderful Live album Why me?

It’s a song I’ve wanted to attempt to cover for a very long time. Sadly Daniel never got to realise this song in a studio fully.

But I’ve always felt I could hear what he could in his mind. A sort of White album Lennonesque composite of many little bits of songs thematically pulled together and touching on many genres in one recording,

A sort of Happiness is a warm gun for the modern age. I hope you have as much fun listening as I did making it.

Stay Tuned !

http://josephcave.bandcamp.com

[bitegore]

this house has an actual ~30F/18C temperature gradient in it rn T-T

[disabilityhorizons]

Bed wedge mattress lifter - Solid Oak

Beautiful functional sustainable bed wedge for tucking in sheets and covers. Designed to last for many lifetimes – Created by the Disability Horizons Shop!

Save your back by using our solid oak Bed Wedge mattress lifter to help tuck in sheets and bedding when making the bed

Made in a workshop in Newark-on-Trent, UK – The Bed Wedge mattress lifter is built to last using solid oak and every purchase supports British manufacturing.

Lightweight – Weighs just 400g!

The inclined wedge design separates and lifts the mattress as it slides in, reducing strain on your body when twisting and lifting a mattress to tuck in the sheet. 

The curved handle design allows you to grip the Bed Wedge mattress lifter at a natural wrist position providing greater comfort, strength and transfer of energy.

The level ledge holds the mattress in a raised position, alleviating pressure toonour spine and leaving both hands free to make the bed.

Scroll down to read more.

Today's thicker, heavier mattresses can make changing the sheets and making a bed not only challenging but also painful.

With the Bed Wedge mattress lifter, you can make your bed independently and with ease, protect your back and avoid the stress of lifting heavy mattresses.

Made from solid oak in a workshop here in Newark-on-Trent, the Bed Wedge mattress lifter is stylish and built to last a lifetime.

With an angled, ergonomic design it effortlessly lifts the mattress as the device is inserted between the mattress and box spring.

The mattress is then held safely in an elevated position on the ledge giving ample working room to tuck in sheets, blankets and other bedding.

The product is light and easy to use, at just 400g. Take control and make your bed with ease!

  https://www.youtube.com/shorts/T3EfqMne5TQ

Elevate Your Comfort: Why the 'Bed Wedge' Wooden Mattress Lifter is the Ultimate Bedroom Accessory

Ever struggled with the task of lifting a heavy mattress to tuck in your sheets? Or perhaps you've sought a way to make your bed look neat without straining your back? If either of these scenarios sounds familiar, the 'Bed Wedge' wooden mattress lifter could be the game-changer you've been seeking.

What is the 'Bed Wedge' Wooden Mattress Lifter?

The 'Bed Wedge' wooden mattress lifter is a simple yet ingenious invention designed to lift and hold your mattress, easing the process of changing sheets and lifting your mattress. It's a household tool that marries convenience, practicality, and aesthetics.

Why Choose the 'Bed Wedge' Wooden Mattress Lifter?

1. Enhanced Durability and Strength

The 'Bed Wedge' is crafted from high-quality oak wood known for its strength and durability. It can support your mattress without any issues, and with proper care, this lifter can last for a lifetime, making it a cost-effective solution.

2. Eases Physical Strain

Making the bed, especially tucking in sheets, can be a strenuous task that puts unnecessary strain on your back. By raising the height of the mattress, the 'Bed Wedge' minimizes the need to bend over as much, thus reducing strain on your back and making the chore of making your bed much less physically taxing.

3. Superior to Plastic Alternatives

While plastic mattress lifters are available on the market, they cannot compare to the 'Bed Wedge'. Plastic lifters may be cheaper, but they lack the durability, aesthetics, and eco-friendliness of our wooden lifters. The 'Bed Wedge' is a superior choice for those who value quality and sustainability.

4. Eco-Friendly Choice

The 'Bed Wedge' wooden mattress lifter is an environmentally friendly choice. Wood is a natural, renewable resource, and by choosing the 'Bed Wedge', you're reducing your carbon footprint and contributing to a more sustainable future.

5. Aesthetics and Versatility

The 'Bed Wedge' comes in a beautiful real oak finish. Its natural and elegant aesthetic can blend seamlessly with any room décor, if it is left by the bedside it doesn't look ugly like the blue plastic ones.

Conclusion

The 'Bed Wedge' wooden mattress lifter is more than just a practical tool; it's an investment in your comfort, health, and the aesthetics of your bedroom. If you're looking to make your bed-making tasks easier, reduce physical strain, and add a stylish touch to your bedroom, the 'Bed Wedge' is the perfect solution. It also makes an ideal gift for anyone who takes pride in a neatly tucked-in bed!

  Material : Solid Oak. http://disability-health-shop.myshopify.com/products/bed-wedge-mattress-lifter-solid-oak

[sheltiechicago]

A Granite Replica of a Bedroom Closet Honors Personal and Collective Memories in New York City AIDS Memorial Park

“Craig’s closet” (2023), granite and bronze, 90 x 57 x 28 1/2 inches.

Photos by Daniel Greer, © Jim Hodges, courtesy of the artist and Gladstone Gallery

[do-you-have-a-flag]

Text recounting of the full events below but oh my god please watch this person explain the wildest thing happening to them

[image text]r/trueoffmychest post by CptnSpaceCase tiktok handle kelseycanstand

Today my aide cooked what should not be cooked

I have to get this out, because today feels like an actual nightmare I keep expecting to wake up from.

I'm disabled, and need help with stuff around the house. Today was the second day with a new agency and new home health aide, "Tina." I set it up so she would come by in the morning while I'm sleeping (insomnia is killer), and I texted her last night what I would need done today.

One of those things was to roast some precut squash I'd gotten so I could have it with my salads and pasta. I was very clear in my instructions: what it looked like, where it was in the fridge, how to use the oven, how to cook it. I also have a roommate who was up and told her she could ask them for help if she couldn't find anything. Or come get me if truly necessary.

Now, I have three pet ball pythons. They eat rats that I thaw from frozen in the fridge in a reusable plastic bag. Yes, that's where I'm going with this.

Tina couldn't find the squash, and so, obviously, that meant she should roast the first other thing she could see that was technically also encased in plastic, in a completely different area of the fridge. The FUCKING RATS. In butter and salt, in my nice baking dish.

And like, that's insane all on its own, but if you're going to cook any animal, you should at least clean and skin it first, right??? Like, do the crazy, disgusting thing properly so I can respect the effort, instead of sticking them in as is. Fur and guts and all.

And the smell. Good God baby Jesus the SMELL. It woke me up and had me gagging the moment I opened my bedroom door. Definitely not squash. Or food-smelling for that matter. At first I thought the squash had spontaneously rotted overnight and she'd tried to cook it anyway. That would have been slightly less insane and much preferable.

I had to pull it out of her what she was cooking instead when she said she couldn't find it (it was in plain sight), had to open the oven and see my snakes' dinners in place of my own and still couldn't process what the fuck was happening, what I was looking at and smelling. I don't like yelling at people and generally avoid it. Today was a day for exceptions. And at the end of my half-crazed, dissociative rant, I told her to get the whole dish and its contents and herself out of the fucking house. And to not come back.

Suffice to say, I've contacted the agency to report it and am requesting a new aide. Now I'm sitting at a cafe trying to calm down and eat something despite the scent memory that's taken up permanent residence and turning my stomach. The whole house reeks like musty, sewage-dipped pork that had been left out for a whole day before being cooked in rancid oil, and I'm not sure Febreeze is gonna cut it. I don't want to go home. 🫠😭

[jhsharman]

"Sound Off"

[nexus-nebulae]

shoutout to the really cool maintenance guy at our apartment who teaches me how to fix things sometimes

[bladeofthestars]

.

[hellyeahsickaf]

I found an extremely dope disability survival guide for those who are homebound, bedbound, in need of disability accommodations, or would otherwise like resources for how to manage your life as a disabled person. (Link is safe)

It has some great articles and resources and while written by people with ME/CFS, it keeps all disabilities in mind. A lot of it is specific to the USA but even if you're from somewhere else, there are many guides that can still help you. Some really good ones are:

How to live a great disabled life- A guide full of resources to make your life easier and probably the best place to start (including links to some of the below resources). Everything from applying for good quality affordable housing to getting free transportation, affordable medication, how to get enough food stamps, how to get a free phone that doesn't suck, how to find housemates and caregivers, how to be homebound, support groups and Facebook pages (including for specific illnesses), how to help with social change from home, and so many more.

Turning a "no" into a "yes"- A guide on what to say when denied for disability aid/accommodations of many types, particularly over the phone. "Never take no for an answer over the phone. If you have not been turned down in writing, you have not been turned down. Period."

How to be poor in America- A very expansive and helpful guide including things from a directory to find your nearest food bank to resources for getting free home modifications, how to get cheap or free eye and dental care, extremely cheap internet, and financial assistance with vet bills

How to be homebound- This is pretty helpful even if you're not homebound. It includes guides on how to save spoons, getting free and low cost transportation, disability resources in your area, home meals, how to have fun/keep busy while in bed, and a severe bedbound activity master list which includes a link to an audio version of the list on Soundcloud

Master List of Disability Accommodation Letters For Housing- Guides on how to request accommodations and housing as well as your rights, laws, and prewritten sample letters to help you get whatever you need. Includes information on how to request additional bedrooms, stop evictions, request meetings via phone, mail, and email if you can't in person, what you can do if a request is denied, and many other helpful guides

Special Laws to Help Domestic Violence Survivors (Vouchers & Low Income Housing)- Protections, laws, and housing rights for survivors of DV (any gender), and how to get support and protection under the VAWA laws to help you and/or loved ones receive housing and assistance

Dealing With Debt & Disability- Information to assist with debt including student loans, medical debt, how to deal with debt collectors as well as an article with a step by step guide that helped the author cut her overwhelming medical bills by 80%!

There are so many more articles, guides, and tools here that have helped a lot of people. And there are a lot of rights, resources, and protections that people don't know they have and guides that can help you manage your life as a disabled person regardless of income, energy levels, and other factors.

Please boost!

[maculategiraffe]

I was in bed and my boyfriend paused in the hallway outside the bedroom door and lingered a moment and I said sleepily "I can't see whatever expression is on your face, because I don't have my glasses on" and he said "sorry, whatever you just said I didn't hear it. I don't have my hearing aids in." laurel and hardy ass domestic partnership

[mostly-imagines]

Sugar on the Rim vol. II

bruce wayne x afab!reader

aka the billionaires new friend

part one

warnings: heavily implied that reader is a virgin, age gap (bruce is older than reader), smut, oral fem!receiving, nervous but enthusiastically consenting reader

You’d tried to calm your nerves but they couldn’t be helped.

You’re anxious about everything, all of it. What he wants you to do, what he’s expecting you do, whether it’ll hurt, whether you’re ready.

You think you trust Bruce, but you also know that these things are different for men and women. You don’t necessarily expect that he’ll have a mind for what you’ll need, but honestly, neither do you. You don’t know what to do to make this easier for yourself—you don’t know what to do at all. 

You bought the lingerie, you’ve got it on under your clothes and it feels like a costume. You can’t tell if that aids or worsens the anxiety. 

You’re fidgeting with the hem of your skirt and you wish you could quit it, you’re radiating enough nervous energy as it is, you don’t need to be sending him visual cues on top of it. 

Bruce holds your free hand in his as he guides you through the manor, you think it’s a different section than you’ve seen before. His hand engulfs yours unfairly as he leads, but the touch of his skin is so warm and inviting that you can’t tell if your hand is still shaking under it. If it is, he pretends not to notice.

He guides you up the stairs and into a corridor and then another before you arrive at a set of double doors. You’ve never seen double doors on the inside of a house before.

He lets you in ahead of him, and you have a distinct thought that you’re glad he can’t see the look of awe on your face as you walk in. His bedroom has an entire living room inside of it, and altogether it’s bigger than your whole apartment. A maroon couch and matching chairs surround a grand fireplace at the front of the room and the resulting glow from the active embers has the area shrouded in a warm light ahead of the shadows filling the rest.

You glance past the seating at his bed; large and proud. It’s definitely bigger than a king sized, with an overhead canopy and streams of dark burgundy curtains draping down from the corners. There’s another set of closed double doors past the bed, you imagine leading to the bathroom.

The end of the room displays a large window seat that looks like it’s never been used, and vast tinted windows. You look up to find the ceiling higher than you’ve ever seen in a bedroom with a very expensive chandelier hanging over it all.

He takes your arm, steering you out of your wonderment and leads you towards the couch rather than the bed, gesturing for you to sit down with him. You do, quietly glad when he positions himself so that you’re close to each other but not pressed right up against you. He’s able to relax his body more than you’re able to fake it on yourself, and you think your thoughts must be vibrating out of you by now.    

One hand comes to rest on your thigh as his other nudges your cheek towards him. “Hey, nothing’s happening right now. No need to be nervous.”

You nod blankly, but your thoughts are running wild with everything that you very much are nervous about.

He takes your hand in his, rubbing circles with his thumb. 

“You’ve got to relax,” he coos, “Remember what I said?”

You take a breath, “You’re not going to throw me in the deep end.”

“Exactly,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Just wanna make you feel good, right?”

You nod, easing your posture.

He looks you in the eye, “You gonna let me?”

You hum, nodding again.

“Good girl,” he purrs, pulling away.

You quickly find that the distance is not at all what you want, and you decide to push forward—as forward as you can—sitting up again to peel your jacket off. He watches you move with a look in his eyes, you take it for intrigue but it may just as well be something akin to pride. Pride in you? He’s openly flirted, kissed you, and straight up propositioned you for sex—but sure, he’s proud of you for taking your jacket off.

Your nerves transition into insecurity before you can catch them, and you’re starting to feel a little stupid, like a child playing pretend.

You watch tentatively as he tilts his head at you, running his own assessments of your actions. 

“Will you come sit on my lap?” he asks you after a moment. 

You suddenly become acutely aware of the amount of air in your lungs. This feels like a big request and you’re not even sure how to take his meaning. Does he want you to sit sideways? Your back to his front? Or fully straddle him? 

He wants whatever you want, he’d said. What do you want?

You glance down at his thighs, covered by fabric more expensive than you can imagine. Positive confirmation rings through your head immediately, willing you to push yourself forward a little more. 

You reposition yourself over him, straddling his lap in spite of your nerves.

Again, he looks pleased. Happy even. One of his hands comes to stroke soothing patterns across your lower back, the other resting on your waist. 

He makes sure to catch your gaze, “You’ll tell me if you want to stop.” 

He follows when your eyes stray, “Yes?”

“Yes.”

He places a tender kiss on your cheekbone, “How did shopping go?”

“Um, good. It was good. One of the sales girls helped me,” your breath is shaky as he kisses your jawline.

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I, uh, I just went to this little boutique up on third street,” he places another kiss on the column of your throat as you talk. “Um, it took longer than I thought it would. There were so many choices.”

His hands come up to soothe over your ribs, pulling you a little closer as they do. He hums for you to keep talking, his kisses continuing to lower until they’re down to your collarbone, though they remain relatively chaste.

“I—I didn’t really know what to look for,” you admit, breath shaky as you exhale. 

“But you like it?”

“Yeah, I—I do.”

He hums, smiling against your skin. His fingers inch under the seam of your shirt, caressing your waist. “Can I take this off?”

You nod timidly, trying not to seem so on edge with anticipation. You’re not confident that he can’t see right through you.  

He presses another chaste kiss to your neck upon receival of the permission, and your shirt begins to come off slowly, his hands skimming every new bit of skin revealed. As he pulls it over your head, he glances down at the baby pink bralette you’d picked out for yourself.

He groans quietly as he takes in the sight, “Oh, pretty girl. Beautiful girl,” He noses at your chest, leaving little kisses where his lips make contact with your skin, “Look at you. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your stomach flutters as his hair tickles your cheek. His hands roam up your sides, stopping to stroke placid circles along the sides of your breasts.

His touch makes its way around your back, expertly undoing your bra clasp without a second thought. Your bra hangs forward a bit off your shoulders, but he leaves the work of entirely removing it to you. And you do, with more confidence than you’d imagined yourself mustering.

He immediately shows his appreciation, kissing and caressing your chest with lover-like admiration. Your head falls back involuntarily as he noses at your soft skin.

He’s breathing heavy when he pulls back, humming low and deep before lifting you up off his lap to stand. The sudden shift has you a bit thrown off, working to catch up as he kneels down in front of you and repeats his earlier process with your skirt—kissing your thighs and tugging the fabric down bit by bit.

When it’s discarded on the floor you stand only left in your underwear, the lace practically illuminated against your skin.

He looks up at you from his place on the floor and smiles as he takes in the sight of your body. His hands find your hips as he asks you, “Has anyone ever seen you like this before?”

You hesitate for half a second before answering truthfully.

His smile grows, “No, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s nodding, “Yeah, I know.”

As he rises to stand he scoops you up by the back of your thighs and lifts you in the air with no discernable effort. Now at face level with him, you get a bit bolder and lean in to kiss him. He kisses you back, pleased, beginning to walk the two of you over towards the bed.

He sets you down gently atop the soft mattress, kisses pushing you backwards to lie back on the bed. He scoops your wrists up and leisurely moves your arms up above your head. His grip is benign as he releases one hand in favor of holding your jaw. Your kiss is deep and controlled on his part, but in a way that makes you feel light in the head. You like the cloudy-sensation very much.

After a while, he pulls back to look at you with clouded eyes. 

He practically purrs, “You’re such a kind girl. So sweet to everyone, all the time. Will you let me be sweet to you?”

Your breath is shaky as you nod, attempts at hiding your anticipation failing.

He nods back at you with a faux-sympathy across his face. “Let me hear you say it.”

You force air into your lungs, giving you the willpower to speak the words. “Will you touch me? Please?”

The corners of his lips turn up, “Of course, sweet girl.”

He nips at your jaw as his hands travel down, petting the inside of your thighs with a touch so feather light it almost tickles.

Your knee jerks inward towards his hand, your body desperately seeking out more of this new sensation. He obliges, tracing his touch back up, up, up until his hand dips under the lace trim of your panties, skimming over your clit. Your hips flinch back away from him momentarily in surprise, only to press back forward a second later.

He actually laughs at the action, like it’s endearing. You feel a little silly for it, but you’re not given much time to dwell as he persists, brushing against you with a bit more pressure.

He tilts his head, watching your expression carefully with a remarkably pleased look on his own face. “How’s that, sweet girl?”

You nod, beside yourself. “Feels good,” you whimper. “Feels really good..”

You don’t necessarily mean to, but your hips grind up against his touch, your body too mesmerized with the sensation to remember to be embarrassed.

He’s certainly not complaining about it though, his quiet coos encouraging you to chase the feeling. 

He lets you grind up against his hand, taking in the needy look on your face with contentment.

“Poor girl,” he tuts. “Just need somebody to take care of you, huh?”

That makes your cheeks burn, but your attention finds itself more concerned with the urge to squeeze your thighs together.

You whine when he pulls his hand back out of your underwear, only for him to stand resolute in his actions. 

“Not yet, sweet thing,” he hums, pressing you back down to the bed with a light but firm touch when you try to sit up. 

He hushes you gently, murmuring for you to be patient as he shifts his position over you. 

He starts to move down your body, leaving kisses in his wake. The sensation of his lips tracing down your stomach has you feeling butterflies.

By the time he reaches your waistline you’re borderline dizzy from the anticipation, squeezing your legs together in an attempt to alleviate the ache.

He pauses there for a moment, torturously, and noses at the seam of your panties. A whine from you has him chuckling and finally moving to where you need him.

He kisses your clit over your underwear and you’re fighting thoughts of embarrassment over how sure you are he can taste how wet you are over the fabric.

It doesn’t seem to be enough for him though, as he tugs your panties down slowly, kissing your thighs as he goes.

Bruce’s hands hold onto your waist as he eats you out, holding you in place with an easy grip. 

You squirm against the feel of his tongue and you can’t quite figure out what to do with your hands. You almost wish he’d made you keep them above your head but really you’re not sure you’d be able to keep it together if he had. You’re not sure you’re keeping it together now.

He groans against your pussy, and one of your hands flies to grip his hair without permission from your brain. If you’re being honest with yourself though, your brain isn’t really the one calling the shots anymore.

You gasp when he licks a bold stripe, “Bruce—”

He groans again, briefly breaking away from you. “Oh, say that again.”

You sigh out, “Bruce, please.” 

He makes a pleased hum. “Good girl,” he murmurs before diving back in. 

He complies with your pleas generously, giving you more. He’s gradual but resolute as he inserts two fingers into you, giving you the time to adjust. But he’d evidently done a very thorough job prepping you for it, you’re so wet that the initial entry doesn’t sting like you’d expected. No, rather the first thing you register is closer to pleasure. A lot closer.

He begins to pump in and out of you at he continues to suck at your clit, and somewhere during you have a distinct thought of “oh this is it.”

You let out a little gasp and for once, you break out of your own head and just relish in the way his fingers curl inside you.

The way your thighs squeeze around him as you come, doesn’t hinder him one bit, only has him applying his ministrations with more intent. It doesn’t take long for the trembling of your body to give way to full on shaking, your body stuttering beneath him.

He continues working at you the entire way through your orgasm, until you’re flinching from overstimulation. 

He gives you one more lick before looking up at you with hooded eyes. “Y’taste sweet too, you know that?”

You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks as he starts to move back up to face-level, kissing the high point of your cheekbone.  

He pulls down on your bottom lip, your slick wet against your mouth.

You open without question, a clouding urge to please him the only thing running through your mind. 

He grumbles a low, pleased sound as you do, moving his hand only to provide room for him to kiss you again.

He sits back up over you and starts unbuttoning his shirt and you realize only now that he’s still fully dressed. 

He glances down to his belt as he undoes the buttons. 

“Will you help me out, sweet girl?”

You blink a couple times before registering the request, still overwhelmed by how quickly and skillfully he’d made you come. 

You struggle a bit to push yourself up into a sitting position, but he supports you by your waist, nipping along your jaw as encouragement.

Your hands shake as you undo the clasp, and while you’re still very much eager, if not moreso, you’re suddenly confronted with the very real possibility that you’re about to have your limits pushed. He ate you out and did a damn good job, stands to reason that he’d want you to return the favor.

So it takes you by surprise when he’s nudging you back against the pillows, removing his pants himself.

He keeps you occupied with an intense kiss as he does, and the distraction so smooth it’s almost like it’s rehearsed. 

You follow his lead easily, though surprised by his lack of desire to get his fill too.

He drapes himself over you nicely, his size easily dwarfing you out. He’s quick to block your chin from tilting down, gently bringing your face back up to meet his. 

He shakes his head lightly, murmuring, “Don’t worry about that. I got you.”

You are worried about it, but you trust Bruce, you know you do now.

You feel the weight of his cock against your stomach, at this exact moment, feeling like not much more than a daunting task.

“S’alright, sweet girl,” he lulls, brushing your hair back. “Okay?”

As heavy as the simple question is, you don’t need to think about it before you’re nodding and moving your hand to hold onto his bicep.

He peppers kisses all over your face as he starts to push in, effectively starting to distract you from the pain of the stretch. He hushes your whines soothingly and kneads at your waist with confident hands.

Your arms lock around his shoulders on instinct, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to convince yourself he’s almost all the way in, but you know you’ve got aways to go.

He pauses halfway, imploring you to open your eyes so he can check up on you properly.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he softly urges.

You will yourself to blink up at him and try to take on the challenge of both him and his gaze. Surely, an impossible task.

But you manage shaky eye contact that occasionally gives way to glancing down at his lips. 

It doesn’t feel good yet, but it only makes you more eager to keep going.

“I’m okay,” you nod, taking a breath. “You can keep going.”

He waits to find that reassurance in your eyes before he continues to push in, bestowing you a deep kiss in reward for your bravery.

Once he’s nearly bottomed out he waits a moment, then begins to rock in and out slowly, letting you get used to a starter of the sensation.

He brushes your hair back, weaving through the strands. “There we go,” he coos as you look down between you. “Doing so good.”

Your gasp is louder than they had been before, and closer to a sigh now. 

He’s fucking you gently, with a decorum that exceeds what you’d earlier told yourself you were stupid for hoping for.

It doesn’t take long at all for his movement to start to feel really good and your grip around his shoulders comes around to a different kind of intensity.

He noses against your jaw, applying kisses whenever  convenient. “‘S that feel good, sweet girl? Hm?”

He hits a particularly deep spot in you immediately after and it makes you borderline squeak. He huffs out a laugh that’s nothing short of affectionate. 

“Yeah?”

He then attacks that spot with extra intention, hitting it absolutely expertly every time. He speeds up a little, lips latched onto your neck as he fucks you nice and deep.

He drops a hand down between you and starts rubbing circles onto your clit with a pace that makes you want to scream.

You can’t help the moan you release when he teeths at your neck, clearly aiming to drive you crazy. But damn if he isn’t going about it the right way.

His circles pick up pace and you can be sure you’re leaving nail marks on his back. He seems to only get more encouraged by your sounds, working you closer and closer to the edge with every whimper.

He finally lets you over after a minute of shamelessly relishing in your moans, himself following close after.

He continues moving in and out of you until you’ve both completely finished, slowly coming to a stop. 

You get a moment to catch your breath before he pulls out delicately. You don’t even realize he’s moved before he’s got his boxers back on and is halfway to the bathroom.

You’re a little alarmed by the sudden shift in proximity, though you guess that’s the playboy experience, isn’t it? After a second you hear water running and assume he’s taking a shower.

You push yourself to sit up fully, minding your achy thighs, and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You glance at the foot of the bed where your underwear lies, then back over by the couch where the rest of your clothes lay discarded. You briefly contemplate how quickly you can get your clothes back on when the bathroom doors open again.

You glance up at Bruce, dazed, who looks surprised himself to see you sitting up. As he makes his way back to the bed you notice the supplies he has in tow and your brain begins to slowly start turning its gears again.

You don’t realize the glass of water in his hand is for you until he’s pushed it into your palm. 

His other hand carries a wet wash cloth that you, again, aren’t able to register the purpose for until it’s in action. 

“Drink,” he tells you as he spreads your knees apart gently, wiping away the mess between your legs with a notable amount of compassion for your sensitivity.

You do, gulping a few as he finishes, tossing the rag in a hamper before setting your glass down on the side table.

Your eyes return to the end of the bed and you nearly decide to get up, but he’s still standing so close to you, you’re not sure this is the right time.

You seem caught halfway between decisions now, you know you do. You’d honestly preferred when you thought he’d just ditched you for a shower because at least then this part wouldn’t be so awkward.

He watches you closely as you deliberate and seems to draw a conclusion about your hesitation rather quickly. His brow pinches as he processes, tilting his head at you. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” he says, bewildered. “Right?”

“I—” you falter, looking to the couch and back to him again. “No?”

He stares at you for a moment with an expression you can’t define.

“Lay down.”

You don’t have a second to process before he’s climbing back in bed too, pulling you down to lay your head on the pillow.

He pulls the covers over you and splays an arm over your waist, clearly firm in his decision for you to stay.

Your eyes are heavy and his bed is so comfortable, it’s difficult for you to even consider either of you wanting you to leave now.

Maybe you’ll just sleep for a little while, get some of your energy back. 

The way he traces soft patterns across your stomach certainly encourages the idea and doesn’t give you much power to resist.

You let your eyes flutter shut to the feather-light touch and listen to the steady deepness of his breaths.

Well, this isn’t so bad either.

🐲 reblogging is an ancient art form, only the strong may master it 🐲

[basicgrayson]

Found my very first check book today while tidying up, and the duplicates were still tucked in the plastic sleeve. Man, sometimes I forget that I was really out there at 19 in my own apartment paying for my own rent, bills, food and everything else. I wasn't even a year out of high school. Rent was $800 then, which seems ridiculously cheap by today's standards, but I was only making like $1100 month. Damn. Still don't know how I managed that.