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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months ago

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Circular battery self-sufficiency

I'm coming to DEFCON! On FRIDAY (Aug 9), I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On SATURDAY (Aug 10), I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

If we are going to survive the climate emergency, we will have to electrify – that is, transition from burning fossil fuels to collecting, storing, transmitting and using renewable energy generated by e.g. the tides, the wind, and (especially) the Sun.

Electrification is a big project, but it's not an insurmountable one. Planning and executing an electric future is like eating the elephant: we do it one step at a time. This is characteristic of big engineering projects, which explains why so many people find it hard to imagine pulling this off.

As a layperson, you are far more likely to be exposed to a work of popular science than you are a work of popular engineering. Pop science is great, but its role is to familiarize you with theory, not practice. Popular engineering is a minuscule and obscure genre, which is a pity, because it's one of my favorites.

Weathering the climate emergency is going to require a lot of politics, to be sure, but it's also going to require a lot of engineering, which is why I'm grateful for the nascent but vital (and growing) field of popular engineering. Not to mention, the practitioners of popular engineering tend to be a lot of fun, like the hosts of the Well That's Your Problem podcast, a superb long-form leftist podcast about engineering disasters (with slides!):

https://www.youtube.com/@welltheresyourproblempodca1465

If you want to get started on popular engineering and the climate, your first stop should be the "Without the Hot Air" series, which tackles sustainable energy, materials, transportation and food as engineering problems. You'll never think about climate the same way again:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/06/methane-diet/#3kg-per-day

Then there's Saul Griffith's 2021 book Electrify, which is basically a roadmap for carrying out the electrification of America and the world:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/09/practical-visionary/#popular-engineering

Griffith's book is inspiring and visionary, but to really get a sense of how fantastic an electrified world can be, it's gotta be Deb Chachra's How Infrastructure Works:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/17/care-work/#charismatic-megaprojects

Chachra is a material scientist who teaches at Olin College, and her book is a hymn to the historical and philosophical underpinnings of infrastructure, but more than anything, it's a popular engineering book about what is possible. For example, if we want to give every person on Earth the energy budget of a Canadian (like an American, but colder), we would only have to capture 0.4% of the solar energy that reaches the Earth's surface.

Now, this is a gigantic task, but it's a tractable one. Resolving it will require a very careful – and massive – marshaling of materials, particularly copper, but also a large number of conflict minerals and rare earths. It's gonna be hard.

But it's not impossible, let alone inconceivable. Indeed, Chachra's biggest contribution in this book is to make a compelling case for reconceiving our relationship to energy and materials. As a species, we have always treated energy as scarce, trying to wring every erg and therm that we can out of our energy sources. Meanwhile, we've treated materials as abundant, digging them up or chopping them down, using them briefly, then tossing them on a midden or burying them in a pit.

Chachra argues that this is precisely backwards. Our planet gets a fresh supply of energy twice a day, with sunrise (solar) and moonrise (tides). On the other hand, we've only got one Earth's worth of materials, supplemented very sporadically when a meteor survives entry into our atmosphere. Mining asteroids, the Moon and other planets is a losing proposition for the long foreseeable future:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/09/astrobezzle/#send-robots-instead

The promise of marshaling a very large amount of materials is that it will deliver effectively limitless, clean energy. This project will take a lot of time and its benefits will primarily accrue to people who come after its builders, which is why it is infrastructure. As Chachra says, infrastructure is inherently altruistic, a gift to our neighbors and our descendants. If all you want is a place to stick your own poop, you don't need to build a citywide sanitation system.

What's more, we can trade energy for materials. Manufacturing goods so that they gracefully decompose back into the material stream at the end of their lives is energy intensive. Harvesting materials from badly designed goods is also energy intensive. But if once we build out the renewables grid (which will take a lot of materials), we will have all the energy we need (to preserve and re-use our materials).

Our species' historical approach to materials is not (ahem) carved in stone. It is contingent. It has changed. It can change again. It needs to change, because the way we extract materials today is both unjust and unsustainable.

The horrific nature of material extraction under capitalism – and its geopolitics (e.g. "We will coup whoever we want! Deal with it.") – has many made comrades in the climate fight skeptical (or worse, cynical) about a clean energy transition. They do the back-of-the-envelope math about the material budget for electrification, mentally convert that to the number of wildlife preserves, low-income communities, unspoiled habitat and indigenous lands that we would destroy in the process of gathering those materials, and conclude that the whole thing is a farce.

That analysis is important, but it's incomplete. Yes, marshaling all those materials in the way that we do today would be catastrophic. But the point of a climate transition is that we will transition our approach to our planet, our energy, and our materials. That transition can and should challenge all the assumptions underpinning electrification doomerism.

Take the material bill itself: the assumption that a transition will require a linearly scaled quantity of materials includes the assumption that cleantech won't find substantial efficiencies in its material usage. Thankfully, that's a very bad assumption! Cleantech is just getting started. It's at the stage where we're still uncovering massive improvements to production (unlike fossil fuel technology, whose available efficiencies have been discovered and exploited, so that progress is glacial and negligible).

Take copper: electrification requires a lot of copper. But the amount of copper needed for each part of the cleantech revolution is declining faster than the demand for cleantech is rising. Just one example: between the first and second iteration of the Rivian electric vehicle, designers figured out how to remove 1.6 miles of copper wire from each vehicle:

https://insideevs.com/news/722265/rivian-r1s-r1t-wiring/

That's just one iteration and one technology! And yeah, EVs are only peripheral to a cleantech transition; for one thing, geometry hates cars. We're going to have to build a lot of mass transit, and we're going to be realizing these efficiencies with every generation of train, bus, and tram:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/29/geometry-hates-uber/#toronto-the-gullible

We have just lived through a massive surge in electrification, with unimaginable quantities of new renewables coming online and a stunning replacement of conventional vehicles with EVs, and throughout that surge, demand for copper remained flat:

https://www.chemanalyst.com/NewsAndDeals/NewsDetails/copper-wire-price-remains-stable-amidst-surplus-supply-and-expanding-mining-25416#:~:text=Global%20Copper%20wire%20Price%20Remains%20Stable%20Amidst%20Surplus%20Supply%20and%20Expanding%20Mining%20Activities

This isn't to say that cleantech is a solved problem. There are many political aspects to cleantech that remain pernicious, like the fact that so many of the cleantech offerings on the market are built around extractive financial arrangements (like lease-back rooftop solar) and "smart" appliances (like heat pumps and induction tops) that require enshittification-ready apps:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/26/unplanned-obsolescence/#better-micetraps

There's a quiet struggle going on between cleantech efficiencies and the finance sector's predation, from lease-back to apps to the carbon-credit scam, but many of those conflicts are cashing out in favor of a sustainable future and it doesn't help our cause to ignore those: we should be cheering them on!

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/12/s-curve/#anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-eventually-stops

Take "innovation." Silicon Valley's string of pump-and-dump nonsense – cryptocurrency, NFTs, metaverse, web3, and now AI – have made "innovation" into a dirty word. As the AI bubble bursts, the very idea of innovation is turning into a punchline:

https://www.wheresyoured.at/burst-damage/

But cleantech is excitingly, wonderfully innovative. The contrast between the fake innovation of Silicon Valley and the real – and vital – innovation of cleantech couldn't be starker, or more inspiring:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/30/posiwid/#social-cost-of-carbon

Like the "battery problem." Whenever the renewables future is raised, there's always a doomer insisting that batteries are an unsolved – and unsolvable – problem, and without massive batteries, there's no sense in trying, because the public won't accept brownouts when the sun goes down and the wind stops blowing.

Sometimes, these people are shilling boondoggles like nuclear power (reminder: this is Hiroshima Day):

https://theconversation.com/dutton-wants-australia-to-join-the-nuclear-renaissance-but-this-dream-has-failed-before-209584

Other times, they're just trying to foreclose on the conversation about a renewables transition altogether. But sometimes, these doubts are raised by comrades who really do want a transition and have serious questions about power storage.

If you're one of those people, I have some very good news: battery tech is taking off. Some of that takes the form of wild and cool new approaches. In Finland, a Scottish company is converting a disused copper mine into a gravity battery. During the day, excess renewables hoist a platform piled with tons of rock up a 530m shaft. At night, the platform lowers slowly, driving a turbine and releasing its potential energy. This is incredibly efficient, has a tiny (and sustainable) bill of materials, and it's highly replicable. The world has sufficient abandoned mine-shafts to store 70TWh of power – that's the daily energy budget for the entire planet. What's more, every mine shaft has a beefy connection to the power grid, because you can't run a mine without a lot of power:

https://www.euronews.com/green/2024/02/06/this-disused-mine-in-finland-is-being-turned-into-a-gravity-battery-to-store-renewable-ene

Gravity batteries are great for utility-scale storage, but we also need a lot of batteries for things that we can't keep plugged into the wall, like vehicles, personal electronics, etc. There's great news on that score, too! "The Battery Mineral Loop" is a new report from the Rocky Mountain Institute that describes the path to "circular battery self-sufficiency":

https://rmi.org/wp-content/uploads/dlm_uploads/2024/07/the_battery_mineral_loop_report_July.pdf

The big idea: rather than digging up new minerals to make batteries, we can recycle minerals from dead batteries to make new ones. Remember, energy can be traded for materials: we can expend more energy on designs that are optimized to decompose back into their component materials, or we can expend more energy extracting materials from designs that aren't optimized for recycling.

Both things are already happening. From the executive summary:

The chemistry of batteries is rapidly improving: over the past decade, we've reduced per-using demand for lithium, nickle and cobalt by 60-140%, and most lithium batteries are being recycled, not landfilled.

Within a decade, we'll hit peak mineral demand for batteries. By the mid-2030s, the amount of new "virgin minerals" needed to meet our battery demand will stop growing and start declining.

By 2050, we could attain net zero mineral demand for batteries: that is, we could meet all our energy storage needs without digging up any more minerals.

We are on a path to a "one-off" extraction effort. We can already build batteries that work for 10-15 years and whose materials can be recycled with 90-94% efficiency.

The total quantity of minerals we need to extract to permanently satisfy the world's energy storage needs is about 125m tons.

This last point is the one that caught my eye. Extracting 125m tons of anything is a tall order, and depending on how it's done, it could wreak a terrible toll on people and the places they live.

But one question I learned to ask from Tim Harford and BBC More Or Less is "is that a big number?" 125m tons sure feels like a large number, but it is one seventeenth of the amount of fossil fuels we dig up every year just for road transport. In other words, we're talking about spending the next thirty years carefully, sustainably, humanely extracting about 5.8% of the materials we currently pump and dig every year for our cars. Do that, and we satisfy our battery needs more-or-less forever.

This is a big engineering project. We've done those before. Crisscrossing the world with roads, supplying billions of fossil-fuel vehicles, building the infrastructure for refueling them, pumping billions of gallons of oil – all of that was done in living memory. As Robin Sloan wrote:

Did people say, at the dawn of the automobile: are you kidding me? This technology will require a ubiquitous network of refueling stations, one or two at every major intersection … even if there WAS that much gas in the world, how would you move it around at that scale? If everybody buys a car, you’ll need to build highways, HUGE ones — you’ll need to dig up cities! Madness!

https://www.robinsloan.com/newsletters/room-for-everybody/

That big project cost trillions and required bending the productive capacity of many nations to its completion. It produced a ghastly geopolitics that elevated petrostates – a hole in the ground, surrounded by guns – to kingmakers whose autocrats can knock the world on its ass at will.

By contrast, this giant engineering project is relatively modest, and it will upend that global order, yielding energy sovereignty (and its handmaiden, national resliency) to every country on Earth. Doing it well will be hard, and require that we rethink our relationship to energy and materials, but that's a bonus, not a cost. Changing how we use materials and energy will make all our lives better, it will improve the lives of the living things we share the planet with, and it will strip the monsters who currently control our energy supply of their political, economic, and electric power.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/06/with-great-power/#comes-great-responsibility

#pluralistic #debcha #solarpunk #energy #cleantech #bill mckibben #material science #promethean climate transition #rocky mountain institute #battery mineral loop #climate #environment #peak minerals

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cherrycranes · 8 days ago

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Boy Next Door (Michael McCrea x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Michael McCrea x Fem!Reader Summary: You're in a gross, shady motel with your neighbor and best friend, Michael, during a road trip. There's only one bed and lots of feelings about to be confessed. Word count: 4,144 Contents: (Minors DNI). Unprotected sex, praise, ass & pussy eating, cream pie, eating cream pie. Author's notes: Sorry for taking so long, but finally, here's our underrated scrawny man in another collab with @fuckiingloser. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Stan Michael McCrea.

Serene darkness, cut through by the persistent headlights, enveloped the car as you made your way through the Irish highway. The Cranberries played ever so quietly from the stereo, barely filling the silence between you and Michael. You were halfway through a road trip made unnecessarily long due to roadwork, and evidently, you both were exhausted.

Michael was your friend and next door neighbor back home in the crappy Dublin apartment building, and he was a total sweetheart despite the life he had. The kind of guy who would drop anything he was doing if you needed help or a favor. Always there whenever you needed him.

Naturally, it was no surprise that now he was driving you to the funeral of an old friend of yours in the south. You didn't have a license or a car, and before you could think of other means of transportation, Michael had already jumped at the chance to drive you there himself.

“Gettin’ kinda tired…” He admitted to you, pulling you from your sleepy trance of staring out the window, watching the world go by.

“And these roads are so dark… foggy... Maybe we should stop and get motel rooms for the night? Leave early tomorrow morning?” He continued, briefly turning to look at you just in time to catch your smile and nod.

“Yeah, I'm pretty beat too, I'd love to sleep in a real bed and not sitting up straight… The service isn’t until 3 pm tomorrow, so we should be good if we leave early…” You answered, much to his delight.

Not 15 minutes passed when a roadside motel appeared in the distance, less than luxurious and completely in the middle of nowhere. You couldn't afford to get picky.

Inside, it was more of a ruin than anything; stained carpet, broken leather on all the chairs that must be older than Michael and you, and an ancient black and white TV playing reruns of the Andy Griffith show. A shock this place forgotten by God was still functional.

Michael, always the gentleman, took the lead, heading up the counter with you trailing behind. The old receptionist finally looked up from behind his newspaper with a creepy, assuming smile, making your stomach turn a bit.

“We’d like 2 rooms please…” Michael was immediately cut off by the old man.

“No can do… only have one queen bedroom available for the night…” The old man croaked, looking at the two of you.

“Let’s just keep driving till we find another place…” You whispered in Michael’s ear, all weirded out and frankly disgusted by this place, when, once again, the old man chimed in before Michael could speak.

“No more lodging for at least 30 kilometers…” He said with his scratchy, creepy voice. “You want the room or not?”

Defeated and tired, you sighed and looked at Michael, nodding.

“We’ll take it…” And with that, your fate was sealed. Michael paid for the room and helped you bring your bag upstairs.

The smell of musty mothballs immediately greeted you both the moment he opened the door. Michael made sure to lock and deadbolt the room behind you, doing his best to protect you.

You stood in there for a second, taking in what was supposed to be your sleeping quarters for the night. Cigarette burns in the carpet, a dingy mattress with a yellowish grandma blanket, and barely furnished.

“Oh my god, there’s not even a TV… What are we supposed to do all night?” You exclaimed with a slight laugh of disbelief, this really had to be your only option for the night.

Michael laughed back, setting down his bag and looking over the miserable room you now had to share. There was not even a couch for one of you to sleep on, just a questionable queen-sized bed that would make you sleep side by side.

“At least there’s a radio…” He walked over to it and turned it on, some pop song starting to play quietly beneath a slight static hum.

“And… I’ve got a pack of cards and a bottle of vodka…” He added with a sly smile, showing you the bottle from the confines of his bag and making you crack a smile. He always knew how to do it.

“Sounds good to me… You always come prepared.” You laughed. “Let me change into my pjs and then we get to me kicking your ass at cards…” You gave him a playful wink and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him alone with his thoughts and racing heart.

You were clueless about this, but Michael had the biggest crush on you since you became his next-door neighbor almost 2 years ago. Matter of fact, he was whipped for you. And he had been too stupid and shy to say anything.

Perhaps he didn't feel worthy of you, perhaps he was just waiting for the right moment; either way, he was always there for you. A shoulder for you to cry on after every failed relationship or talking stage with other guys, a helping hand with anything you needed; hell, he was even here because of you. And the closest he had gotten to you? Nearly kissed you once about a year ago. Nearly.

That time, he was comforting you after an idiot dumped you. He had brought drinks and takeout and held you on your couch as you cried. Your tearful eyes met his, he gently rubbed your back, and you both leaned in, and that's when his phone went off.

After that night, nothing else happened but a few playfully flirty comments every once on a while, and it was killing him slowly.

In his eyes, you were perfect. Sweet, kind, funny, so beautiful… All he ever wanted to do was worship every bit of you, show you how you should be treated… But he couldn't work himself up enough to ever say it. Or do it.

He couldn’t believe his luck tonight. Sure, you were in a shady, gross motel, but at least you were together. All alone with only one bed. It was too good, too perfect for Michael, as if the stars had aligned and had finally given him that chance. It was up to him to take it.

You pulled him out of his thoughts when you finally came out of the bathroom, a simple pair of cotton sleep shorts and a t-shirt covering you up. It sounded cliché, but Michael truly did love you like this, so natural.

“I was thinking about showering, but that tub is absolutely foul… So sorry if I stink, but I'm not taking my chances there." You announced with a laugh, making him chuckle and shake his head.

“You? Stink? Never… you’re always perfect…” He replied, perhaps getting carried away in between his playful tone, but even then, you could feel the slightest fluttering of butterfly wings in your stomach.

You set down your things before jumping on top of the bed, sitting across from him as he took off his hoodie.

“Let's crack that thing open and get to it!” You smiled, looking at the bottle in his hands. With a nod, Michael opened and took a big swig right before handing it to you. The bitter plain vodka burned your throat and made you scrunch up your face, much to his amusement.

“Delicious, right?” He teased, his cockiness making you take a second swig.

“The only way I'll be able to sleep in this dump is if I'm a little tipsy, so I'll ignore the taste…” You handed him the bottle bac,k and he took another big sip himself, much more used to the bitter taste than you.

Sip by sip, you took turns with the vodka, completely forgetting about the playing cards in favor of conversation. A half hour passed, and half the bottle was gone too, making you finally tipsy enough to tolerate this seedy place. You both laid back on the bed, staring in silence at the ceiling that had definitely seen better days eons ago. The radio still played despite the slight static and enveloped you in the soft, easily digestible ballad of the moment.

There was no awkwardness to be found between you, only peace. At least from your point of view. In Michael's, it was all a big racing mess. He thought and mentally rehearsed everything he ever wanted to say to you, but never dared to. All the things he wanted to do but never did.

He fought with himself for a few minutes before finally making up his mind. Now or never.

Gently, Michael moved to lie on his side, facing you, his pale blue eyes roaming over your body the way he wished his hands could. From the soft exposed skin of your thighs, to your breasts under your t-shirt that moved up and down with your breathing, and finally, to your beautiful face.

You took notice, turning to look at him with a shy smile

“What are you looking at?” You asked softly, eyes connecting with his pretty blue ones. “Do I have something on my face?”

Michael laughed and shook his head.

“No, no nothing like that… you’re just beautiful…” He whispered, and your brow furrowed a bit at his words. You knew him well, he was sweet. This should not have come as a surprise to you, but there was something about him tonight. Something different. More intimate.

You smiled, shyness creeping up on you.

“You think?” You whispered in hopes of hearing him say it again. Michael nodded, his calloused hand coming up to touch your cheek so softly.

“I've always thought you were the most beautiful girl… Always thought you deserved better than those losers who treat you like shit… A girl like you deserves to be worshipped…” his voice was soft, devotional, a tone reserved only for the most fervent of prayers.

For a second, Michael couldn't believe he had said it, nervousness started to bubble up inside his chest when he took in your reaction, your mouth had fallen open a bit, your eyes widened, and, something that he did not see but you felt in its entirety, your pussy fluttered to life inside your shorts.

“Worshipped?” You whispered back, your tipsy brain spinning, trying to understand what he insinuated.

Michael smirked a little, easing up and ultimately getting brave.

“I’ve liked you for a long time… just never had the balls to say till tonight…” He confessed, his hand moving from your cheek down to the little stripe of skin showing on your stomach between your t-shirt and your shorts. He let his fingers dance over the skin lightly, giving you all the chances to reject his touch if you did not want it.

But you did want it. You almost moaned at the light tickle, your panties dampened as you turned to look at the ceiling, trying to process what was happening.

“You know how many times I've jerked off thinking about this perfect body?” Michael leaned in to purr right into your ear, and your breath hitched. The feeling of his stubble nearly tickling the sensitive skin and his fingertips tracing over your stomach right above the waistband of your shorts, making you weak.

“How many?” You whispered, so turned on you could barely think straight.

“Too many times to count…” Michael answered before placing a few soft kisses on your sensitive neck. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you moaned at the feeling.

“Thought about eating your sweet cunt… and your little ass…” He whispered against your neck. “Making you come over and over…”

For a moment, your brain had an alcohol-induced short circuit, you got lost inside those perfect blue eyes, and all words failed you. You jumped from his eyes to his pink lips, and as if he could read your mind, he leaned in, your lips locking in a hot, searing kiss that quickly turned into you devouring each other.

Tongues tangled against each other, and his hand buried itself in your hair, holding you close as you rolled around the creaking motel bed together.

His mind was spinning, he couldn't believe his luck. He couldn't believe this was real. All that time pining after you in secret, wishing for you… And now you were here, in his arms. He pulled back, panting, just to look into your eyes and take it all in.

“God, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for that…” He whispered, coaxing a smile from you. His cute eagerness, his desire, was driving you wild.

“Hopefully, you want to do more than just kiss me…” You purred back, your arousal talking. You played with the hairs at the back of his neck, watching his eyes widen a bit as a smirk crept across his face.

“Oh, I'm just getting started…” He practically purred to you with a husky voice, anticipation biting at you.

Gently, Michael pulled back from you, raising to kneel between your legs and hooking his fingers onto the elastic band of your sleep shorts. Little by little, he pulled them off you until they flung to the ground.

“Wow…” His pale blue eyes widened when he was met with your bare pussy right away. Wet, tempting, and breathtaking.

“No panties under your shorts? Naughty girl…” He pretended to chastise you, and it made you giggle. “It's like you wanted me to eat your pussy…” His tongue came out to wet his lips, already savoring you. He lowered himself to lie between your legs, his head between your soft thighs.

“Mike… I haven't showered…” You whispered, insecurity making its way to you despite how much you wanted this. His blue eyes met yours, and he gave you a big smirk, his fingertips tickling your inner thighs.

“Do you really think that’s gonna turn me off or stop me?” He purred shamelessly and immediately dived in to lick a fat, greedy stripe between your folds and towards your clit.

You moaned loudly at the feeling, all your nerves and insecurities going out the window in an instant. He hummed at your taste, briefly pulling away just to praise you.

“Jesus Christ, you taste like heaven…” He practically moaned before diving back in for more.

Hungrily, his hot tongue explored every inch and crevice of your sweet cunt. You grabbed a handful of his dark hair with gentleness, steadying yourself as he devoured you. When your thighs made the slightest movement to close from how overwhelming this was becoming, Michael pushed them further apart, making more room for him and his talented tongue. He swirled the tip all over your entrance before letting it slip inside you, fucking you so good you nearly saw the face of God.

“Oh fuck- if you keep going i’m gonna come…” You cried out, head swirling with pleasure. A strong orgasm loomed closer and faster than expected, and it made his chest swell up with pride. He hummed in acknowledgement but never once stopped.

He gave you lick after lick around your folds before pulling away to look up at you, his lips and chin glistening with your slickness.

“I could eat your pussy for hours… but I want you to come on my cock…” He wiped you off his mouth with the back of his hand before sliding off the bed and grabbing his wallet off the side table, opening it, and pulling out a condom.

“Knew this could come in handy someday…” He said with a rather adorable smile, standing to kick his pants off him, his raging hard cock pressing tightly against his briefs all thanks to you. You bit your lip in anticipation as he crawled onto the bed, kneeling between your parted legs once more.

However, before he could tear up the condom wrapper, he inspected it, finding it worn down and clearly old. His face fell a bit in disappointment.

“What's wrong?” You asked in concern.

“Fuck, it says it expired a year ago…” Michael looked at you, worried that this whole thing was now ruined. Calmly and endeared by the look in his eyes, you took it out of his hands and inspected the foil package before tossing it to the ground.

“It’s okay, I'm on the pill… we don’t need one…” You assured him with a cheeky smile, nearly taking the air out of his lungs. Nothing, absolutely nothing would ever prevent you from fucking this man.

“Thank fuck…” He breathed a sigh of relief and gratitude, not wasting any more seconds, and scooting closer to you. He pulled his briefs down and let his cock spring free for your eyes to feast on.

You couldn't help but bite your lip, it was bigger than what you assumed, and if how he eats pussy was any indication of how he fucked… You were in for a real treat.

He took his cock in his hand, slowly rubbing his already aching tip up and down your wet folds groaning slightly at the feeling.

“God, I've wanted you for so long…” he whispered to you, teasing you with the head of his cock, your heart pounding in your chest, anticipation coursing through every vein in your body.

He looked into your eyes, his pupils widening from pure lust.

“Ready?” He whispered, so sweet and caring he was, even during the middle of your drunken, whirlwind revelation of wanting to jump each other's bones right here and now.

His eyes fell from yours back down to his cock between his legs, perfectly lined up at your entrance. You let out a sigh of relief mixed with a moan and he moved his hips forward, pushing the tip inside your warm, wet and perfectly tight pussy that was the only heaven Michael had ever known.

You moaned, your hand reaching up to hold onto his forearm for support, just like he did with your hips. He pushed deeper, slowly however, allowing you to adjust for a second despite what his hard cock urged him to do, he truly did want to fuck you hard and fast like an animal in heat, and it was taking all his willpower to remain gentle.

After a minute, his restraint broke a little, and he started to move, his hips picking up speed. He was well aware that he wouldn't last long, not when he was balls deep inside the girl of his dreams. It would be a miracle if he lasted 10 minutes inside you.

“You feel so fucking good love…” He groaned to you, looking down at the beautiful sight of you with your mouth hanging open and letting out sweet moans. He watched your tits bounce underneath your t-shirt at every thrust, nearly hypnotized.

He leaned back over, chest to chest with you again. His lips found yours once more for a sloppy, hot makeout, his clumsy thrusts filling the dreary motel room with slapping sounds.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer, making him groan loudly into your mouth. Your nails clawed through his t-shirt, mixing pain with the best pleasure he has ever felt in his life, your tight little pussy.

Michael broke the kiss with a shortness of breath, his hips never stopped despite how sloppily and hard they moved. The tip of his cock hit your g-spot again and again.

“I’m gonna come…” He whimpered, his orgasm building deep inside him faster than he thought it would.

His thumb reached between your moving bodies to rub much needed circles on your clit, hoping to God he’ll make you finish before him. Your pussy fluttered, dangerously trying to milk him for all he's worth.

“Come for me… come inside me…” You begged him with a loud, whiney moan. His eyes widened in a pleasant shock, his brain malfunctioned for a bit. He had never dreamed of being in this position, much less have the girl he loved in secret begging for him to come inside of her.

“Oh- fuck-really?” He panted in disbelief, praying that his ears hadn't fooled him and that it was what you truly wanted. You nodded repeatedly, moans spilling from your pretty mouth and your eyes squeezing shut.

Michael fucked you harder, rubbing your clit much faster as your body began to feel that familiar buzz of a pending orgasm inside you.

“Oh my god- i-i can’t hold it…” He whined. “Come with me please…” and as if on command… You did. Hard. Your back arched off the bed against him, your clothed tits pressing against his chest. You moaned much louder than ever, your pussy fluttered around his cock so tightly it was game over for him.

“Jesus Christ- I'm coming…” He moaned almost in disbelief. You felt so good; your orgasm, your face contorted in pleasure, everything about you made his sloppy thrusts slow and his cock twitch as he filled you, looking deeply into your eyes.

‘Passionate’ was not enough to describe it, ‘intense’ wouldn't even come close. It was incredibly unique, too good to share something this intimate for the first time ever. You both laid there for a minute, collecting your breath together, he still nested inside.

Silence took over for a little while until he finally pulled out, pulling back to his knees to look. His eyes widened a bit and his breath hitched watching his cum leaking slowly out of you.

“How does it look?” You asked softly, noting just how fixated his eyes were on your dripping pussy.

“Perfect… fucking perfect…” He whispered hungrily, you watched his eyes darken a bit before he did something you could have never expected.

His big hands pushed your thighs up against your chest, giving him the perfect view. He quickly leaned in and let his tongue lick a fat stripe over your dripping pussy, catching his own cum mixed with yours on his tongue, moaning loudly against you at the taste.

“Oh my God… Mike…” You whimpered in disbelief, hand going straight to his soft brown hair again to grab a fistful. His tongue eagerly slid into your entrance, circling it with the pointy tip and making you moan over and over again like a bitch in heat.

He ate you like a starving man… And in a sense, he was. This had been his dream for a year, being with you in every way possible, and now he wouldn't let any time go to waste.

Michael groaned against you, tasting you both on his eager tongue. He licked lower and lower until he was down at your asshole. He painted a fat stripe of saliva from your ass all the way up to your clit then back down again a few times, bringing heaven down on you.

“Fuck...” You whimpered breathlessly, still trying to process it all. His tongue circled your asshole, pleasure flooding your brain when he pushed inside. He hummed happily against you, completely satisfied at the little string of moans you let out for him.

He pulled back for a second just to catch his breath then dove right back in, now licking your pussy. His tongue swiped over and between your soft folds, making sure to clean up all the mess you made together.

It was all too good, he had to force himself to pull away for good after a few minutes. He would honestly eat your pussy forever if you let him.

As he pulled back to his knees, he admired you; so beautiful and perfectly spent. You both panted, trying to concoct the correct words in your brain to describe just how it was.

“Wow… that was just… wow…” You whispered, trailing off a bit with a small grin playing at the corner of your lips.

His hands found their way to your thighs, rubbing them. He smiled, watching you stumble over your words, brain still fuzzy and reeling.

You sat in there, quiet, the dingy motel room mattress supporting you as you looked at each other. Finally, his fingertips glided over the soft skin of your inner thigh.

“Still just friends?” He asked with that little familiar glimmer in his eyes, full of hope that you wanted more just like he did, and that this wasn’t just a one time thing that happened by chance in some shitty motel.

At that moment, it finally clicked… And you just didn't know how you had never seen it before. Michael, your friend who did everything for you. The guy who made you laugh and was always a shoulder to cry on whenever you needed someone. It was always him. Right in front of you the entire time. The boy next door.

You giggled a little and shook your head no.

“Of course not just friends… just no more creepy motels…deal?” You teased him, and he chuckled in agreement.

“Deal.”

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