#fabric sofa cushion

[rankoussi]

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[deeisace]

Anyway time to get the fuck out of bed

I need to eat whatever I have left in the fridge, and then go to the shop. And then find,, any scissors (where the fuck are my good ones) and try to figure out how to thread the sewing machine I haven't used in like 3 years :/

But I'll have food and sofa cushions by the end, so it is good to make an effort and not languish all day and sleep. Isn't it.

[whatthefoucault]

Yeah so this shop I'm on the mailing list for knows me way too well

[haipaifabric]

Polyester material, cotton and linen effect, washable and durable, good wear resistance, suitable for curtains and sofas!

Width:295±5cm

composition:100%polyester

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[moongothic]

I have a lot of scrap materials. Scrap wood, foam, fabric, and god knows what else. Just, a lot of leftovers from previous projects.

So I figured I could try to MAKE something out of them, just to put those materials into use so they could become something instead of just sitting around uselessly, taking space and collecting dust.

I thought making a footstool could be a fun, easy-ish project for me to do this winter.

So here, come along with me on this journey of making a wonky, scrap footstool

So key thing here is that I very specifically wanted to avoid buying ANYTHING for this project. I did end up buying two things, a pullsaw (which is a general tool I can use in other projects, so I figured I could get away with it), and one itty bitty thing that ended up costing like, what, 2€?

But yes, my goal was to use things I already have and give them a purpose, not accumulate any MORE scrap materials. This is important because through out this project I ended up using many Unideal Methods For Doing Things, mainly because I didn't have enough material to do it The Ideal Way.

This is not a tutorial for efficiency, this is my journey to repurpose garbage. Just wanna be clear about that. There are better ways to build a footstool.

Anyway, I started the project from arguably the weirdest part; figuring out how much fabric I had from the chair project

The thing was that I wanted to make the footstool as big as I possibly could with the material I had, so I had to start this project by figuring out the maximum size I could do with the fabric I had.

So I figured out the dimensions I could do (even cut the fabric pieces while I was at it), and then using those dimensions as a guide, I went off to figure out the wood pieces I would need for the frame of the stool, as well as the feet. Once I had things measured out, I cut the pieces and boom

Wood pieces obtained.

Sidenote, yes, a 90 degree angle on the corners would have looked much prettier than what I did, I just figured that this would be easier to cut (I cut those pieces before I bought my new pullsaw), also, I wasn't sure how I would perma-attach the pieces if the corners were done like that. Like, with these corners, I could fortify them with dowels or nails or whatever, but clean corners at an angle? I have no idea how to pull that off, and I don't have the energy to to try anything fancy, man, I wanted this to be semi-easy

(There was no way in hell I was gonna attempt somekinda dovetail joint here, I didn't have enough wood to work with (there was a point where I was actually worried I wouldn't have enough wood to build the frame at all) and god knows I'm nowhere near good enough at wood working to pull something like that off)

Anyway, I did originally intend to attach the wood pieces with dowels, since they'd be hidden and look neat (by not being visible at all), but when I drilled the first hole for the first dowel, I realized that 1) I didn't have a drill bit large enough for the dowel to fit in, and 2) I did not have it in me to actually do it. Like, to make sure the wood pieces would allign correct I would have to make sure I was drilling Very Straight into the wood, not once, not four times, but 16 times (since I was planning on using 2 dowels at each joint). If I didn't drill the dowel holes perfectly straight and perfectly aligned, the frame wouldn't come together, and I did not want to risk fucking that up, man, no

So I took the easy way out.

Nails.

I do kinda regret picking these nails, I should've used less obvious ones OR waited until the wood was painted before nailing them together because these are kinda pretty nails, so it ended up being kind of a waste to use them (since there was no way I was gonna AVOID these nails while painting the wood). IDK I was worried the glue alone wouldn't hold the wood strong enough while I was working with the frame or something and chose poorly here. But it is what it is. (On the plus side, we seemed to have exactly 12 of these nails, which was the exact perfect amount)

Anyways, yes, I chose to paint the frame because I have leftover paint (and primer) from the previous project so I figured I might as well use it up. Even though I hate this fucking paint so much

Two or three coats of primer, a gentle sanding after them, the wood was perfectly smooth and lovely

Then came the paint and it looks like shit, just like last time

I did like. What, four coats of paint. Sanding between the coats. Dilluting it so it wouldn't be so thick. And yet. And yet it looks like shit. Just like last time, with the chair I refinished. I mean I knew it was gonna turn out like ass but I'm still kind of shocked by how bad it turned out.

Anyway. Ideally you'd probably make a cushion onto some random piece of plywood (or something similar) that you would slot into the frame of the stool. I did not have any plywood pieces, nor did I have enough wood to make a small, thinner frame to slot into the main frame. So.

To create a bottom I used this ribbon that I have an entire fuckload of (since I bought it for that fucking lamp before realizing I couldn't use it and couldn't return either, literally have nothing better to do with it so here it goes) to weave a bottom onto the frame. And a bit later I attached a piece of fabric on top of the weaving (another leftover from the lamp project), as this would be what I'd glue the cushion onto.

But first, I had to make a cushion!

As you can see, I have a lot of scrap foam

(Yes I've kept the original foam from the styrofoam chair, I did cut it down to get rid of the damaged edges (after taking this photo) but otherwise the foam is fine, shhhhhh) (Also the white foam is what I bought for the chair project, the yellow foam is something my mom had bought years ago that we've had laying around for ages)

I wanted the cushion of the stool to have some height to it, but I didn't have any thick pieces of foam, so I figured I could just make a thick foam piece from the scraps I had, with some help from the foam glue I have (the same stuff I bought for the styrofoam chair but wasn't able to use since it melted the styrofoam).

Started by figuring out the rough dimensions of the foam piece I'd need (from the biggest, cleanest piece I had)

And I got started making a Foam Sandwich

Let me tell you my hands were an absolute mess during this whole process, I was essentially washing my hands with fucking nail polish remover (I just noticed the foam glue smelled like nail polish remover and realized it would probably get rid of the residue on my hands, which it did, thank fuck), it was nasty

But yes, Big Foam Sammich. I did start lowkey cutting it WHILE I was building the cushion, since my goal here was to not waste materials so. Y'know. I tried to make sure I wouldn't waste materials.

After the cushion was formed, I let it dry for a good while before I went in to shave the edges and cut it down. After that I used this floofier scrap foam to cover the sandwich. I could have glued it on, but I figured I had killed enough of my braincells while making the foam sandwich and breathing in the glue fumes that I decided that sewing would be good enough.

Two flooffy foam pieces were enough to cover the cushion, I just sewed them together on top and sewed them to the bottom of the cushion. It was quite easy indeed.

With that all done, I could attach the finished cushion onto the frame!

Brought the glue back out so I could just glue the foam onto the fabric that was stapled onto the frame, and I allowed it to dry (upside down, with some weights)

And yes, ideally you would staple the foam down onto a separate piece of wood, but since it was going directly on top of the frame and I didn't want to staple it onto the frame, I didn't. I wanted the wood (and my shitty paint job) to be visible, and the fabric would need to be stapled onto the frame anyways, so the glue just had to do the job here.

ANYWAY, UPHOLSTERY TIME

Since the fabric pieces were long done, I could just get straight into it. I pinned the fabric pieces down and handsewed the whole thing. I do admit I regret not ironing the fabric before I started though, I forgot and by the time I realized it was too late, and there was no way I was going to lift the fabric off the stool at this point. I learned my god damn lesson with the styrofoam chair, I know there would've been no way for me to put the fabric back down as neatly as it had been before, it was not worth it.

Anyway, I sewed the fabric and to finish things off I stapled the bottom of the fabric down, onto the frame. And yes I did a wonky ass job, shush

And here comes the one thing I ended up buying for this project, the thing that cost me like 2€

Decorative ribbon to hide the staples! Since I couldn't think of any other way to hide the staples.

And y'all, I understand now why people normally just glue this shit on, it took me like FIVE FUCKING HOURS to sew the ribbon onto the stool!! Mainly because my smallest upholstery needle was WAY too big for this job, and my thinner straight needless were too hard to use for this. My fingers were hurting so bad even the next day, like I understand what thimbles are for now, holy shit

Also. I did not have black sewing thread. So I ended up using yellow thread and then gently went over it with a black (waterproof) marker so the thread wouldn't be visible over the ribbon. (I didn't take photos of it so you'll just have to take my word for it)

So yeah. Shit took forever, I wish I had a hotglue gun but I don't, so it just had to be done the hard way. All things considdered though, it worked out alright, and the ribbon is nice and secure on the stool.

Now, you might've noticed that I haven't mentioned doing anything to the feet of the stool. That's because I haven't finished them.

It's the middle of winter. It's cold. I can't be bothered to go outside to stand the cold for hours to finish the feet of the stool. I need to shape them, I need to sand them, I need to make sure they're all the same lenght etc, all this before I can even prime and paint them and attach them to the frame. But since I can't access our patio, I can't use my orbital sander to speed things up. And I can't be bothered to do all that word by sanding the wood by hand. I am far too lazy for that man, nah

So I'm going to finish this project when the weather gets nicer and our patio isn't covered in a meter of snow.

I'll finish the feet of the footstool later.

So there will probably be a follow up to this post later

But yeah, here's my unideal, imperfect footstool, made almost entirely out of scrap materials.

It looks like ass, but hey I've never tried to build a piece of furniture before, give me a break, I'm a comic artist not a furniture maker

[dantkatli007]

"At Dantakali Textile store, we help you curate just the right look for your home from our entire range of products, and handhold you every step of the way, from discovery to choice. We are the best Furnishing House in Lucknow"

[centrepiecefurnishing]

Weaving Harmony: A Guide to Matching Rattan Sofas with Tropical Home Décor

Emily and Jacob’s move to Singapore was a fresh start in a tropical paradise. Their new home was a blank canvas, perfect for a décor that embraced natural beauty.

A Tropical Dream Emily and Jacob’s move to Singapore was a fresh start in a tropical paradise. Their new home was a blank canvas, perfect for a décor that embraced natural beauty. Their inspiration? A stunning natural rattan sofa they found in Bali. They needed to blend this piece seamlessly with a tropical theme to reflect their surroundings. **Chapter 1: Discovering the Essentials On a sunny…

[asadeepfabricsmanufacturer]

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[daytonmorgan]

Loft-Style Family Room Mid-sized modern loft-style game room idea with blue walls, a wall-mounted tv, and a light wood floor.

[rankoussi]

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[whytheylosttheirminds]

blue sweater - r.c.

(season 4 bf!rafe x gf!reader blurb, 2.4k words)

content smut, p in v, this gorgeous man and his afformentioned blue sweater, 18+ minors do not interact!!

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂

You’d fallen asleep on the couch, waiting up for him again. You didn’t fault Rafe for working so hard, you just miss him so fucking much when he’s in back-to-back meetings all day. 

The couch dips below you, pulling you from your dreams. A large, warm presence settles next to you on the sofa. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know it’s him.

“Hey,” you mumble sleepily, eyes still closed.

He’s smirking down at you, you know him so well you can picture exactly how he looks without actually seeing him. 

“Hi,” he leans forward, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry, that last meeting ran so long.”

Finally opening your eyes to meet his, you’re almost startled by the sight. Somehow, in the dim evening light, they’re more deeply blue and beautiful than ever.

“Nice sweater,” you say, reaching up to run your fingers along the hard edge of his shoulder. Even though he looks so soft and pretty right now, he’s tense, and you wish you could ease the worry that furrows his brow.

He smiles knowingly, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling in the cute way that makes your heart ache for him.

“Thanks, my girlfriend got it for me.”

“She has good taste,” you joke as your run your hand gently up and down his bicep, the soft fabric such a contrast to the hard muscle below. 

“Yeah, she’s all kinds of good,” he winks.

“Then why’d you make her wait for you all night?” You pout, sticking out your bottom lip so he’d know you’re just teasing.

“I said I’m sorrrrry,” he whines as he leans over you more, adjusting to bring his legs onto the couch. You make room for him instinctually, his body fitting into yours like you were designed for each other. 

He lets his full weight down slowly, sinking you both deep into the cushions. Nuzzling his head into your neck, he drags his lips against the skin below your ear so gently, it sends goosebumps racing across your skin. He can feel your excitement and starts kissing you more firmly, leaving little wet spots up the column of your throat.

Your hands splay out over his big, firm back, rubbing circles into the tight muscles. You press deep, working out his stress, and he groans at your firm touch. Your hands work slowly down his back, pressing as you go. When you reach the hem of his sweater, you slip your hands underneath. Rafe flinches at your touch, a shudder running through him.

“Your hands are cold!” He exclaims, his voice muffled.

“Oh sorry, love!” you start to pull them away, but he reaches his arm behind him and pins your palms to his skin.

“No, it feels nice, don’t stop.”

You obey, the pads of your fingers digging little figure eights into his lower back, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“What’s got you so stressed baby, hmm?” You ask.

“Just got too much going on,” he shakes his head so his buzzed hair tickles your earlobe. You giggle at the sensation, his head rising and falling with the shake of your chest.

“Poor baby,” you coo, making him smile against you. “Just need a little help to relax?”

Rafe nods against you, moving slightly to lay his head against your chest so you can run your nails along his head like you know he likes. You bring one hand up, the other still under his shirt, the motion making you open your legs wider so you can stretch. He slots between them perfectly, and when you drag your nails over the fuzzy hairs right at the nape of his neck, you can feel him twitch against your core, already half hard.

“Someone’s needy,” you hum, delighted that you can make him so hot just by touching him tenderly like this. “Want me to make you forget all about your bad day?”

“Please,” he groans into your collarbone, pressing his hips down harder so you can feel him fully against you now. Your wetness pools immediately, soaking through your panties as you arch your back and return the pressure. 

“Shit, baby, that’s so nice,” he praises.

“‘I’ve been waiting for this all day,” you confess.

“Then we better not make you wait any longer.”

Swiftly, he lifts his head from your chest and finds your lips with his. It’s hungry and sloppy, the wet skin of his lower lip sliding against yours as your mouths collide. You’re fully grinding up into him now, and there is nothing semi-soft about him, his hard cock threatening to rip the seams of his pants. You writhe, desperate to feel his length. You know it like the back of your hand, picturing his perfect cock clearly as you rock against it. You’ve got every vein, every throbbing, pink inch memorized. 

“Take your pants off,” you breathe into his open mouth.

With a cocky grin that makes you impossibly wetter he drawls, “now who’s needy, huh?”

You roll your eyes and reach for his waistband, if he’s gonna be an ass about it you’ll just do it yourself. He mirrors you, undressing you with the same shaky fervor. Your shirt goes first, he’s delighted to see you’ve opted for no bra. In the cold evening air, your nipples harden immediately, and he can see the goosebumps spreading across your torso. 

“Ohh baby, you really are freezing.”

“Mhm,” you nod, lip pulled between your teeth. “Warm me up, Rafe.”

A throaty groan rises from his chest as he takes over your work on his pants, ripping them off as best he can without standing, his boxers following. You slip your thumbs under your shorts, doubling up to slide your panties down with them until you’re bare for him. Only one piece of clothing remains between you, the soft blue sweater you bought for him. He starts to pull it off, but you stop him, your hand wrapping around his wrist.

“No, leave it on,” you instruct.

“Whatever you want, angel,” he smirks at your unusual request, but obliges without complaint.

He lays down on you again, his lips hovering over yours as he lets his cock press into your inner thigh. He’s so hard you gasp, inhaling sharply at the sweet pressure against your leg. He kisses you again, more tenderly this time, like he’s trying to imprint the taste of you onto his tongue. As he lets his weight settle on you, the soft threads of his sweater rub over your sensitive nipples, the sensation making your eyes squeeze shut and a strained moan echo from your chest.

“Y’okay?” He asks.

“It feels so g-good,” you croak out.

“What does, baby?”

You blush, feeling silly for it, but something about the soft material against your hardened skin is so delicious, you’re sure your pussy is dripping onto the couch by now. 

A little embarrassed, you admit, “the sweater on my tits feels really good.”

“It does?” He questions, amused.

“Just stay on me baby, don’t stop.”

You and Rafe have been known to argue about almost anything, but he never argues when you tell him how to make you feel good. He flattens his chest against you fully, rutting his dick against your leg, causing his chest to rub against yours as requested. Your head falls back into the throw pillows. You let him continue to move you both until you almost can’t stand the friction anymore.

“I love that,” you whimper, eyes still squeezed shut. “But I need you inside.”

“Can’t wait any longer, huh?” He chuckles. Once again, you don’t need to see him to know what he looks like, his eyebrows are surely arched high and his lips quirked to the side as he looks at you in amusement.

“Rafe I’ve been waiting for like twelve hours,” you complain.

“I know, baby, I know,” he quells you. “I got you, alright?”

Propped on one arm, his sweater leaves your chest for a moment so he can line himself up at your soaked entrance. You wait with closed eyes, bracing for impact as you know it will take a minute to adjust to his size, it always does. But he doesn’t enter you, just grumbles with annoyance as he shuffles above you.

Your quizzical eyes open to find him fumbling with the collar of his sweater, preparing to pull it off.

“What’s the problem?”

“I want to see you, but this fucking sweater’s in the way,” he explains. You lift your head and look down to where your bodies should be meeting to see the hem of his sweater hanging in the way, blocking the view. “I’m just gonna take it off.”

“Nuh-uh!” you object. 

“Baby,” he whines.

A solution comes to you, causing you to break into a wide grin.

“Open up,” you say, and he’s never looked more confused.

But then, you reach down and pull the hem of the sweater between your fingers, making his stomach flinch as you brush against it. You lift the hem up to his mouth, revealing the sight of his dick dangerously close to your entrance. He puzzles it together, and teasingly rolls his eyes before letting you place it between his teeth. He bites down on it obediently, considering a protest before looking down to see he now has a perfect angle to his favorite sight in the world.

It feels so good when he finally slides in, stretching you so deliciously and filling you like only he can, that you almost actually cry. He moves gently, considerate enough to know there’s probably an edge of pain to your pleasure.

“You don’t have to go slow,” you assure him. “Take your stress out on me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He tries to sound cocky, but it’s muffled from the fabric between his teeth.

The way his jaw clenches in frustration makes you giggle. Rafe usually does most of the talking, knowing the sound of his low voice in your ear makes you come so much faster.

“I’ll do the talking, just focus on my voice while you fuck me, m’kay?” You purr.

He nods in agreement, picking up the pace until he’s rocking into you, continuously hitting the perfect spot that makes you both shudder with pleasure. He’s going so hard you have to lift your arm above you and steady yourself against the arm of the couch. His eyes flit between the sight of you taking him in so perfectly and the way your tits bounce with each thrust.

You keep your promise to talk him through it, starting with, “just like that, Rafe- mmmph- feels so good. God, I can feel you so deep.”

His brows furrow in concentration, thrusting harder, desperate to drag more praises from your kiss-chapped lips. Your eyes train on the veins in his neck, throbbing with effort. You reach your other hand up and grab his chin, pulling his face so his eyes pierce yours.

“Shit, you look so good, fucking me like you needed to,” you cry.

As much as he loves the eye-contact, he’s still wearing this stupid sweater for a reason, and he needs to remind you. He matches you by placing his hand on your face, soft but firm, and directing your gaze down to see him pistoning into you.

“Oh my god, that’s so hot,” you smile, admiring the creamy mess you’re making on his shaft. “You’re fucking covered in me, baby. Made me so wet comin’ in here looking this good.”

He removes his hand from your head, looking for a non-verbal way to thank you for your compliments. He presses his thumb to your tongue, and you don’t need words to know what he’s doing. You get it nice and wet, swirling spit around his thumb with your tongue. Once it’s ready, he lowers it to your clit, rubbing back and forth a few times before forming steady circles.

“Ah- fuck- yes, Rafe that’s so-” Your commitment to keep talking falters as pleasure floods your mind, robbing you of your voice.

He knows what you need, he always knows what you need. He pulls your hand from his chin and places it on his chest, you bunch the fabric of his sweater so he can release it from his teeth.

“There ya go,” he coos. “Need me to talk you through it, huh?”

You nod desperately, confirming what he already knew.

“Couldn’t even concentrate in my meetings,” he begins, panting with the effort he’s putting in, not letting up his pace. “Thinkin’ about you here waiting for me, walking around the house in those little shorts. How am I supposed to close deals when I can’t stop thinking about bending you over the kitchen counter and fucking this perfect pussy, huh?”

His words have exactly the effect he was hoping for, you are beside yourself, moaning and squirming beneath him. Letting out the sweetest little “oh, oh, ohs” as his cock rocks your whole body. He's losing tempo, both of you nearing the edge. You bring your other fist up to bunch his sweater, too, grasping so tightly you're afraid you're gonna tear it. You clench around him as he keeps talking.

“That’s it, baby, squeeze me as hard as you can - fuck!” He's unraveling, needing to find the words to get you there so he didn’t finish first. “Fuck, that’s my good girl.”

Just as he expected, that’s what finally did it for you. You cry out his name as sparks exploded in your tummy, coming so hard you have to bury your face into his chest to keep from screaming. He follows behind you almost immediately, his hot cum spurting into you as his primal groans and grunts echo through the room.

A few minutes later, you’re cleaned up and cuddled in his bed, now wrapped up in his sweater, the stretched-out fabric engulfing you. He smirks as his hands run over the material, rubbing over your stomach and waist lovingly.

“Might have to wear this thing every day if that’s how you’re gonna react,” he teases you.

“Uh-huh,” you giggle. “Good luck getting it back.”

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a/n: omg i'm so sorry I just literally couldn't not, the chokehold this sweater has on me is unnatural like y'all don't even need to read this it was just a passion project for me. all hail Blue Sweater.

[zjhq]

How To Choose Fabric For Sofa Cushion?

Choosing the right fabric for sofa cushions is an important decision, as it can impact the comfort, durability, and appearance of your sofa. Here are some factors to consider when choosing a fabric for sofa cushions:

Durability: The fabric should be able to withstand regular use and not easily wear out or become damaged. Look for fabrics made from durable materials, such as polyester or nylon, and consider the thread count, weave, and abrasion resistance of the fabric.

Comfort: The fabric should be comfortable to sit on and feel soft and cozy. Consider the texture and weight of the fabric to ensure it will provide the desired level of comfort.

Style: The fabric should match the style of your decor and complement the other elements in the room. Consider the color, pattern, and texture of the fabric to ensure it fits with your desired aesthetic.

Cleaning and Maintenance: The fabric should be easy to clean and maintain, especially if it will be subjected to spills and stains. Look for fabrics that can be spot-cleaned or easily removed and washed.

Allergies: If you or anyone in your household has allergies, consider choosing hypoallergenic fabrics to minimize the risk of allergic reactions.

Fade Resistance: If your sofa will be exposed to direct sunlight, look for fabrics that are fade-resistant to prevent discoloration over time.

Cost: Finally, consider the cost of the fabric. While high-quality, durable fabrics may be more expensive upfront, they may save you money in the long run by lasting longer.

By considering these factors and doing your research, you can choose our fabric for sofa cushions that meets your needs and preferences.

The durability of the fabric for sofa cushions will depend on several factors, including the quality of the fabric, the frequency of use, and how well the fabric is cared for. By selecting a high-quality, durable fabric and properly caring for your sofa cushions, you can help ensure that they last for years to come.

[haipaifabric]

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[screampied]

i saw this on my feed and how about sextherapist!sylus and virgin!reader that struggles with making themselves orgasm? you can go from there 🤗

warnings. — ☆ fem! reader, sēx therapist sylus, virgín reader, praise, dirty talk, semi public, first time squírt, fıngering, mdni.

“oh, so you really weren’t kidding—were you, kitten?” sylus hums, feeling you writhe around his lap in anticipation. you’re so up close to him as your back’s facing the opposite way of his chest. in the far distance, you hear a plethora of noises coming outside of his office. meaningless chit chatter from his coworkers, loud stomps echoing down the hall, his annoying fax machine that forevermore continues to spit out those same clicking cries, and so on. you’ve been attending sessions with sylus for quite some time now, and you just needed to know how to orgasm properly. you tried everything and nothing would work. according to you, it was dire and you wanted to know if it was as good as people say. “daydreamin’ again?” he coos huskily, hot breath colliding near the twitching shell of your ear. a veiny hand of his softly trails down your inner thighs, glancing at your slid to the side panties. “ah, look at her. she’s so gorgeous.”

“sylusss,” you hiss out his name, gingerly wrapping your clammy fingers around his broad cuffed wrist. “hurry up.”

the white haired man snickers at your agitation, and once he teasingly ghosts two thick fingers over your throbbing protected entrance—his chest rumbles from wry laughter. “my, you’re so impatient. but fine, fine. spread these pretty legs, let me see what we’re workin’ with.”

right away, you sprawl your legs out even further then before and you hear him whistle.

“what a sight,” he purrs, and your head slumps back against his chest. it was almost half past ten at night and sylus was technically off work. your session ended about an hour ago but you just persisted that you needed one more thing.

an orgasm.

your nostrils smell his musky scent of loud rich leather and sandalwood that’s smothering all over his clothing. he brushes a thumb over the lace fabric of your panties before feeling just how soaked you were. “cute, bet you were soaked like this the entire time we were chattin’, hm?”

“f- fuck,” you swallow, and a plump tip of his finger gradually pulls at the string of your underwear. you remain laid back against his lap, gnawing at the bars of your enclosure.

the two of you were sitting on a fat cushioned sofa that’s dipping inward from the heavy pounds of weight. sylus was slow — painfully slow, he knew what he was doing. he lets out a raspy chortle, hearing your slow needy breaths featuring each exasperated gasp that leaves from your lips. “sylus, please.” you moan through gritted teeth, the wait just becoming unbearable.

sylus shushes you, pressing his soft lips up near the sloping nape of your neck. “there there,” and he talks over your whines before within seconds, a finger slowly inserts its way inside. you gasp, feeling your tummy heave. his finger was long, not only that but it was very very thick. you started to hear your heartbeat dramatically thump through your ears as he continues to speak. “pay attention now, this right here?” and you whimper, feeling his middle finger swirl around inside of your pussy. he taps against a spot that makes you feel almost every nerve shoot your body. “this is the clit, kitten. and this,” and you moan, hearing the sloshing sounds of your own mess fill the room. sylus gradually plugs in another finger - his pointer finger, and it fully extends immediately, reaching a spongy spot. “this is my favorite, your pretty g-spot.”

“s- sylus,” you suck in a frustrated breath, realizing that he had not one but two fingers inside. he’s very gentle regardless . . gentle and undeniably slow. oh, the wait was killing you. with your flapping lashes fluttering back against your hooded eyelids, you couldn’t help but gnaw at your quivering bottom lip. this was so much better than your own fingers. his was far longer and experienced. his plump lips starts to kiss near your neck this time, softly lolling his tongue down your skin, craving more of your sweet taste. “more, f- finger me.”

“yes ma’am,” he jibes, and it takes him a few dreadfully long seconds before he’s finally making haste. the tone of sylus’s voice was so deep that it nearly shakes you to the very core—you feel his exact rough vibrato against you. he hears the irregular changes of your breathing whilst his fingers continue to roam inside of your cunt.

“mhm, there’s about over ten thousand pretty little nerves stored up in here,” and he’s just casually talking over your babbling whines. the tips of his fingers were now already so soaked with your sappy slick. it’s gluing against his digits effortlessly — sweet like honey. your folds were just drooling, and every so often, he pulls his fingers out just to stare at the slippery sloppy mess. “how’s it feel? talk to me, sweet girl.”

as your body resumes to tingle from the circular maneuvers of his two fat digits, you let off a loud moan, peering at your left thigh that’s starting to mercilessly shake. “good—fuck, so good,” you whine, the stimulation making you merely bite down on your tongue. sylus hums in amusement, noticing how your thighs would just fail to stay still—it’s cute, you’re a jittery mess but your hand finds it’s way wrapping around his wrist again. “faster,” you plead, and your eyes nearly roll back once he’s just repeatedly toying with your precious g-spot.

again, and again, and again.

your gummy walls accepted sylus’s fingers freely and it was so snug, your mouth can’t help but start to salivate once you realize you’re coming close. he’s quick, plummeting such inches of just two simple digits in and out of you at such a maddened pace. he’s using his entire wrist, his finger work had your toes curling in awe.

“ah, easy now kitten. just relax and bare around ‘em. there’s no rushing a pretty pussy this sloppy,” and he’s speaking right up against your ear again. if you weren’t throbbing then, you definitely were now. sylus even licks against the edge of your ear, giving it a playful nibble. “c’mooon, give me that orgasm, uh huh. make me proud, sweetie.”

“hngh, s-sylus,” you whimper out loudly, your entire body growing tense. sylus’s free hand creeps toward your tummy, softly caressing against your bare skin that’s loosely tucked underneath your blouse. this was so risky. anyone could just walk in and see you - you and him, but you didn’t care—you didn’t care, especially when you were so close to making a mess all his sofa. “fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“let go for me,” he whispers, and his tone was so soothing. it’s almost as if he wasn’t inches deep inside of your swollen pulsating cunt with two thick fingers. in and out, he’s shoving them in and out of you, twisting them around and curling them all throughout your gripping walls. fuck, your toes were scrunched up, feeling such rippling waves surge through you. you were almost positive that if it wasn’t for the help of his hand holding you steady in place against his lap, you’d fall right from his grasp. sylus brings one final kiss toward the back of your collarbone before humming. “atta girl. just give it to me. c’mon, all on my fingers.”

but abruptly, right as you’re coming undone, you feel yourself spraying your translucent slick all on his pumping fingers. a shrieking scream dies from the back of your throat and he finds it oh so cute.

sylus feels you pulsing around him and he grows quiet—you huff out heavy heaving breaths, realizing that you’re squirting. it only lasts for a few seconds but it felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “oh my g- godddd.” you collapse back against his chest, his fingertips delicately plying with your prodding g-spot for just a few seconds longer before he pulls them out. slowly, sylus retracts his digits out of your puffy cunt, watching how it’s now glistening with your honeyed sap.

“aw,” he breaks the silence, hearing your pussy squeal again with numerous squelches as he’s dragging out his two drenched fingers. you’re still so sensitive, it’s like your entire body was burning up with fiery scorching hot heat. it’s intense, your thighs shamelessly try to squeeze themselves shut whilst you’re just rigorously shuddering on his lap. “would you look at thaaaat,” and his arms wrap around you. “such a good girl. although you’ve made quite the mess.”

in the midst of him sweet talking, praising you and all, you’re panting heavily. your sighing chest’s raising up and down as you’re just laid out on his lap, exhausted. as you’re chasing your own scurried breaths, sylus kisses the top back of your head. “again,” you moan, a strain in your voice. despite how your legs were still shivering—you craved more, you wanted to orgasm like that over and over. “t- teach me how to do again.”

“to squirt?” sylus raises a snowy white brow, turning you around to face him. his crimson eyes bore into yours and there’s that same sly smile stretching across his lips once you desperately nod. “hm, alright. but this time, i just might have to teach you with my tongue,” and you feel yourself throb once he’s slowly making you recline yourself back against his velvet-colored settee. “now lie back kitten, doctor’s orders. .”

[dantkatli007]

"At Dantakali Textile store, we help you curate just the right look for your home from our entire range of products, and handhold you every step of the way, from discovery to choice. We are the best Furnishing House in Lucknow"

[arcanefeelings]

SUCKER ! | kamo choso

words: 1k

description & tw: virgin!choso - you give him head for the first time (oral - m!receiving), overstimulation(?), cum eating

notes: he's just so babygirl I can't help myself

masterlist

okay but imagine giving virgin!choso head for the very first time.

he's all flustered and blushing, pupils dark and dilated, gaze fixed on your face as you sink to your knees at his feet. your fingers are hooked into his belt loops as you go down, pulling him down to sit on the sofa behind him as soon as the back of his knees hit the cushion.

a soft huff of air leaves his bitten, swollen lips, when he sits with a small bounce. soft breaths leave his parted lips as your hands move to the hem of his shirt, fingers pushing one corner of the fabric up, up, up, till it's caught between his lips. his torso is exposed for you to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses all over, hands moving back to his pants, nimble fingers undoing his button, then the zipper, as you tap his hips to lift them while you tug them down his thighs.

you're kneeling between his legs, hands caressing his soft hips, lips tracing his v-line, till you move down, down, down. you press your parted lips over the tent in his boxers, kissing in gentle teases and drawing soft whimpers from his lips. choso's hands grip the cushion of the sofa, knuckles turning white while he screws his eyes shut for a moment.

when they open again, theres a plea written in them, something so desperate and needy you can't help but indulge him.

your hands tug his boxers down, freeing his swollen, red cock. there was no way you could have really known before, but he was big. his tip was flushed, red from your teasing and wet with precum, dribbling from his slit. his cock was girthy, and long. god, was his cock long.

you don't realise how you look right now, but choso does. he sees the way your pupils dilate to match his when his cock slaps against his abdomen as you tug his boxers down. he sees the way you nearly salivate at the sight of it, at the sight of him.

and it's all he can do not to whimper when you finally wrap a hand around him, fingers gently squeezing at the base of his cock, wrist turning and tugging experimentally. his teeth clench against his shirt, his hands tightening on the couch cushion.

his gaze is fixed on your hand and your gaze is fixed on his face.

you're taking in every reaction you can, every change in his expression, to see what makes him tick. what makes his dick twitch in your grip? what makes his hips buck harder into your hand? what makes him leak even more? because, as you learn soon, choso is very leaky. he's so aroused by the sight and the feel of you, that his tip is constantly glistening with precum.

that's when you tug slowly, moving your hand up, along with the twisting motions from earlier. you repeat the movement. once. twice. his eyes shut again, tight. its like he's denying himself from making any sounds, his teeth sinking deeper into his shirt. and that's when you change it up again.

you bring your grip higher along his cock again, thumb swiping over his slit and then working your hand back down. and he whimpers.

it's soft, but oh so sweet. and oh, the things you'd do to hear them again.

so you try again, this time, with yet another tactic. your free hand rests on his pelvis, thumb circling over the bone. and then you lean closer, eyes locked on his face through your lashes as your tongue darts out, licking the fresh pre from his slit, and his eyes snap open, a saccharine-sweet moan leaving his lips. the hem of his shirt falls from his lips and you miss the sight of his bare torso for a moment.

"cho," you whisper, lashes fluttering up at him, and he nearly comes right there, "you can hold my hair." your hand on his pelvis moves to one of his hands on the couch, gently prying his fingers from the cushion and guiding them to your hair. they thread through the locks, gripping them tight as he groans softly.

"you look so pretty like this," you whisper, hand going back to his hip, thumb once again tracing circles. you hear the way his breath hitches, see the way his eyes widen fractionally.

and then your lips wrap around him, suckling the mushroom tip, and his head falls back with a whine, hips bucking into your mouth as he cums down your throat. whispered apologies leave his lips, a few drops of hot cum seeping past yours as he holds you in place by your hair, whimpering as he rides out his orgasm.

"'m sorry - hah - baby," he chokes out, "nngh - sorry-"

but you moan, swallowing every drop you can, gagging around his length as your eyes roll back, watery and hazy, but trying to focus on his. his cock twitches at the sight, the wet, clumped lashes sending another rush of blood straight to his cock as he spurts the last of his cum down your throat, panting.

he whimpers under his breath as he collects himself, apologetic and embarrassed for cumming so soon, and you can't help the way you find it all so utterly cute.

because, truth be told, you had been surprised. but you were not put off, by it, quite the opposite. it was pretty attractive. not to mention, he came a lot - it was a rather hefty ego boost.

he gently loosens his grip on your hair, muttering softly, and while he may be done, but you aren't. you'd never given anyone head before, but you were sure that him cumming in your mouth the second you took him in wasn't the 'full experience'. and you were oh so willing to help him get that - a little too willing, in fact.

so you pull away from his cock with a string of saliva mixed cum attaching your lower lip from his tip, licking your lips and then cleaning him up, ignoring his whines of surprise and overstimulation when you move from his trimmed base to his ruddy tip.

only to wrap your lips around him again while he grips your hair tighter, at war with himself about whether he should make you stop, or let you go ahead.

but he was powerless under your mouth - this time you were determined to suck him off properly and then drink his cum. or keep trying till he let you.