#hand totes for women

[project-1000]

Enhance Your Office Lunches with PROJECT 1000 Tiffin Bags

When working in an office and being involved in a work process all the time, one may need to incorporate some sort of an elegant and at the same time, appropriate approach into the daily workings. That is where Tiffin Bags For Office are useful and PROJECT 1000 luxurious hand-stitched tiffin bags are more to the point. These bags are not only meant to carry your lunch but also to define you as a fashionable and environmentally friendly person.

Why Use Tiffin Bags for Office?

The two most important principles when getting lunch to the workplace are convenience and stylish presentation. Consequently, Tiffin bags from PROJECT 1000 are versatile enough to meet both specifications. undefined

Stylish Design: It means each tiffin bag looks like a piece of art created by handloom weaving and a hint of crochet details. This leads to having a bag that is uncommon and eye-catching, you are sure to receive compliments from your colleagues.

Practicality: Measuring 14” wide by 14” tall and 3” deep, these bags are big enough to fit lunch containers, utensils, and even a small water bottle. Since it is comparatively stretchy, it can be used to accommodate many products of different sizes and shapes.

Durability: These bags are crafted from hosiery cotton and other natural fabric yarns that make the bags remarkably resistant to wear and tear. This structure also compactly gives added protection for your lunch items, so they do not get damaged.

Sustainability: With regards to sustainability, the PROJECT 1000 goal is to develop one thousand completely eco-friendly and biodegradable products. They crafted these tiffin bags from factory waste and each of these bags does not contain any form of plastic. Moreover, all the handcrafting processes follow the criteria of carbon neutrality, which, in turn, makes these bags an environmentally friendly product.

Hiding beneath the simple aesthetic and functionality of ‘tiffin bags’ for PROJECT 1000 is the craftsmanship.

Every tiffin bag that is made and packaged for PROJECT 1000 comes out from the handwork of talented rural women of Maharashtra. This not only guarantees the best quality when constructing the homes but also assists the societies around the region. Whenever you buy these tiffin bags, you can go the extra mile in eradicating poverty as well as giving the crafty women of India an opportunity to generate an income and be economically productive citizens.

Designed for Versatility

The tiffin bags used by employees under PROJECT 1000 are not just carriers for lunch.

Office Lunch: First and foremost, these bags are used to transport your lunch to work in style. The actual size of the box makes it practical and its material can maintain the freshness and safety of your lunch.

Casual Outings: Having a picnic or a leisurely get-together with friends Whether going for a picnic or just picnicking around with friends? These bags can conveniently accommodate your snacks and any other related items; hence, fit for any occasion.

Grocery Shopping: These bags have a very strong and large build making them suitable carrying bags for groceries. No more plastic bags and boring shopping bags let’s opt for the new colourful, stylish, and environmentally friendly bags.

Easy Maintenance

Being aware of the tight schedules of customers, PROJECT 1000 has ensured that these tiffin bags are machine washable. It also does not require any special treatment, in fact, just warm water and mild soap are enough to clean your bag. Such simplicity in maintenance helps to keep your bag a loyal accessory that will last for ages in your everyday life.

Wearing a PROJECT 1000 Is a Way of Staking a Claim

Deciding to take a Project 1000 tiffin bag is not just contingent on functionality; it is a declaration of concern for the environment. These bags symbolize an appreciation of environmentally friendly accessories, a boost to rural producers and an appreciation of the beauty of handmade products. That way, by using these tiffin bags to feed your offices you are adding style to the situation as well as helping in creating a better tomorrow.

Conclusion

Incorporating a PROJECT 1000 handcrafted luxury tiffin bag into your office routine is a simple way to elevate your daily life. With their blend of style, practicality, and sustainability, these bags offer much more than just a means to carry your lunch. They are a testament to the beauty of traditional craftsmanship and a commitment to making a positive impact. So, next time you’re looking for Tiffin Bags Online, choose PROJECT 1000 and make a statement with every meal you carry to work.

[trashqueentm]

Shop this Autumn Market Bag on Etsy

[confidential-couture]

Gucci GG Marmont Mini Top Handle Unboxing & How I Style It | Confidential Couture 

In today’s video, I’m unboxing the stunning Gucci GG Marmont Mini Top Handle bag and sharing some chic styling tips! Whether you’re a fan of designer bags or just looking for ways to elevate your outfits, this video has you covered. Watch as I explore the details of this luxurious bag and show you how to style it for different occasions – from casual day looks to elegant evening ensembles. Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe for more fashion inspiration and luxury unboxings!

[anuschkaindia]

Anuschka: Hand-Painted Leather Accessories That Are Unlike Anything Else

Anuschka is a well-known brand for its magnificent hand-painted leather accessories, which include a stunning assortment of bags and wallets with unique, intricate designs. The brand's dedication to quality and craftsmanship is evident in every piece, which is delicately hand-painted by talented artists in brilliant colors and exquisite motifs.

How to Select the Ideal Leather Handbags

When choosing a leather bag, quality, style, and utility are all crucial considerations. Anuschka offers a diverse selection of leather bags, including handbags, backpacks, and messenger bags, each tailored to specific needs and preferences. Whether you're searching for a spectacular piece to dress up your special occasion outfit or a functional everyday companion, Anuschka offers a leather bag to suit your taste and needs.

As you explore Anuschka's universe and consider adding one of their one-of-a-kind, hand-painted leather bags to your collection, remember the value of good care and maintenance. But Anuschka is much more than simply their exquisite leather products...know more by our blog.

[bagsreviews]

Baggallini womens Avenue Tote

[theauspicious1]

Personalized and Budget-Friendly Cotton Rope Basket made in India

Discover the charm of our Handmade jute basket, Cotton thread Rope Basket – a unique and personalized storage solution that combines natural materials, skilled craftsmanship, a touch of whimsy, and budget-friendly affordability. Crafted with love and attention to detail, this basket not only adds a rustic and bohemian flair to your space but also provides a functional and stylish way to keep your belongings organized without breaking the bank.

Description:

Budget customization: Take customization to the next level without emptying your pocket. You can add your name or a loved one’s name to the basket, making it unique at an affordable price. The customization  adds aesthetic appeal to the shopping cart and makes it a thoughtful and budget-friendly gift for special occasions.

Numbers and Letters:

The cotton rope basket’s quirky design is enhanced by the custom figures and alphabets. With this feature, you can show off your uniqueness and creativity by arranging letters and numbers in a creative way or by displaying your initials. To ensure that it stands out from the rest

Flexibility:

Beauty on a Budget: Accent your home decor without breaking the bank with our Indian Cotton Rope Basket. Take advantage of the warmth of natural materials, the charm of a wool bomb and the possibilities of personalization that make each basket a unique expression of your style. Bring Indian handicrafts into your home and enjoy the beauty, functionality and affordability of this amazing handmade creation.

[upcycleluxe]

Elevate Your Style: Explore Upcycleluxe's Trendy Women's Tote Bags for Travel and Everyday Chic

Upgrade your fashion game with Upcycleluxe's chic tote bags. Stylish, durable, and perfect for travel or everyday use. Shop now for the latest trends!

[gutsby]

Make It Stick

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel never thought he’d need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected-peepaw-p-in-v (I’m sorry). Accidental creampie. Age gap. Cumplay. Breeding kink. Ovulation has led me places I wouldn’t go with a gun.

Note: Convergence is a painting by Jackson Pollock. We studied it in high school and I thought it looked like jizz idk

Word count: 4.7k

He should’ve gotten snipped when he had the chance.

Should’ve taken the plunge, faced his fears of needles and fluorescent-washed doctor’s offices like any man his age could have done and gotten the damn vasectomy. Now he was here, nearly two decades older and still none the wiser in this cold, dead world with a pretty young thing like you between his sheets. In lieu of elective surgery, Joel Miller had only to grit his teeth, bite hard, and repeat over and over again in his head, desperate:

‘Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, DON’T—’

Words like those normally worked. With women that weren’t you, they tended to serve him exceedingly well.

But you were just so tight. And wet. And welcoming. And try as Joel might to pretend like he got laid on a regular basis, the truth was that he didn’t. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t seem to think straight when it came to this fixation he’d developed for you, so, instead, he let his dick do all the decision-making whenever he found himself around you. Ten times out of ten that ended in:

“J-J-Joel—oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—I’m gonna CUM.”

And that made it worth every last life-endangering drop.

Feeling how your flushed, lithe body came apart beneath his touch. How you needed him. How your eyes grew to half the size of your face and you gaped up at the man, lips parted, like you couldn’t even comprehend how the friction of seven inches could make you feel so good.

If he had it his way, he would’ve loved nothing more than to show you that feeling every night, and twice the next morning if his hip wasn’t giving him too much trouble.

But, at present, the man had bigger fish to fry. Like not becoming a new father at fifty-nine if he could help it.

With the last two fluttering pulses of your heat, and almost going cross-eyed from the pleasure as he felt it, Joel yanked his big, slippery cock out of your body and made a fist around his member as he always knew to do. Tugged and pulled and grunted above you—‘Sweet girl, you’re so fuckin’ good to me’—and watched your tits and your belly for the milky white ropes to ensue.

Strangely, though, your skin stayed the same.

No cum-spray Convergence appeared before him, no opaque and cloudy fluids dribbling down your ribs, nothing. Your stomach was as bare as the rest of you, save for a few beads of sweat, and that was all there was.

Joel shook his dick harder, confused. Beneath him, you were still coming down from your high smiling ear-to-ear and staring blissfully at the ceiling. Your chest rose and fell, rose and fell in quick succession, and while you endeavored to recollect your mind, Joel was losing his.

Where the FUCK was his cum?

In no naked horizontal tango to date had Joel simply…cum without noticing. Shit like that just didn’t happen to men, least of all to ones his age, so when he’d wrung his poor cock like a sodden towel and still saw nothing come out, he felt his stomach turn and plummet inside him.

He dropped to his hands and knees in less than a moment and lowered his head between your legs.

“No, Joel!” you squealed, giggling. Kicking your feet, “Another round and I’m gonna combust, you old perv!”

But Joel wasn’t looking to get his dick wet again. He was inspecting you. Or trying to, anyway. Quickly realizing he couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, he let out a breath through his nose and lifted you off the bed. Your naked frame thrown over his shoulder, bare hip beside his head and your strangled, muffled cry of, ‘What the hell, Joel?!’ hardly seemed to register with the man carrying you off.

You were toted to the bathroom. Joel was about to ease you down on your feet. Then, appearing to change his mind at the last second, he set you onto the sink instead. Your skin bristled with indignation, anger. A little arousal.

“Last time we did it on a sink we broke the faucet,” you reminded him, feigning more dismay than you really felt inside. If anything, you liked it when your fossil-age fuckbuddy switched things up. You were just exhausted.

Heedless of your words, Joel kneeled on the floor and pried your legs apart before him. When you swatted at his silver-flecked head, he brushed your hand away.

“Hold still,” he grunted.

“How come?”

“‘Cause I said.”

How quickly he commanded that tone of a father.

“Wanna sleep,” you groaned, about to roll your eyes.

But you couldn’t deny you liked being doted on by him.

Joel’s touch was gentle. Probing. Spidering down the most sensitive parts of your bare lower half, between your thighs, and slowly coaxing you closer to the edge of the sink. Your breath hitched when you saw his head tilt.

He appeared to be deep in thought—a rare sight for anyone who’d seen Joel Miller in the postcoital state. Most every time he’d blown his load before, the man was dead asleep within ten minutes. His joints could barely hold himself upright after a half hour of plowing the back forty, much less carry you, too, so you were puzzled now.

He thumbed at the seam of your cunt, and you whined:

“Jo-el—”

“Can ya…push, baby?” His eyes flitted up quickly.

“Push?”

“Yeah, just…” With a look you couldn’t quite read, he placed the palm of his other hand on your belly. Then, pressing, “Like this. Like you’re squeezin’ somethin’ out.”

You cocked a brow in muted confusion but did as he asked. You watched his gaze, and it stayed on you.

Or, rather, on that soft and pliant spot between your legs the old man seemed to favor so much. On any other occasion, in a position like this, he surely would’ve been wearing a smile. Tonight, his lips curled into a grimace.

And twisted even further when you ‘pushed’ like you did.

At first you felt nothing. A gentle clench of your walls supplied little more than a sense of having been stretched—no novel concept to you, who’d spent the last three-and-a-half months or so getting fucked by the finest AARP affiliate alive most every night. It wasn’t until you clamped down again that you got the feeling there was something else. Something thick and warm and slow as molasses trickling out from between your folds.

You let out a low, tender, ‘Mmph’ without meaning to; it felt kind of nice. Beneath you, Joel’s face turned grave.

He watched as his spend oozed out of your freshly-fucked hole and thought of vasectomies again.

You were young—too young to know better. Too sweet and naïve to see any peril in spreading your legs for a man like him, in a world like this. And Joel swore he’d be careful. But no post-apocalyptic birth control method was perfect, or even close to it, and it was clear he’d relied too heavily on reflexes to keep him from cumming inside you. Joel was old—too old to be doing this shit.

Too grown and well-versed in sex to be making mistakes as stupid as that. His brow pinched in, and he drew his next breath as if the air around him was growing scarce.

“Joel, what’s—”

“When’s the last time you— you— uh…bled?”

Hardly more in control of his face than the rate his heart went thudding in his chest, Joel winced at the end. This time, you were the one to knit your eyebrows together. You could tell by that tight, discomfited tone he wasn’t talking papercuts, but were still unsure of his purpose.

“Like two, two and a half weeks ago. Why?”

Well, fuck.

Joel buried his face in his hands. You scooted closer to the sink’s edge, thinking little of his cum leaking out.

“Why?” you tried again. Softer this time.

An old, weathered head lifted to greet you. It was bleak.

“You see this?” Joel paused. Swiping his finger through the viscous white substance that had trickled out on the counter, in a puddle now, “Y’know what it means, right?”

You let his look, and the question, remain suspended in air for a second. Then another. Then you shrugged.

“Yeah. But…you’re old,” came your answer at length.

You’re old.

Joel and you both knew as much, but the former wasn’t quite following your train of thought. Still wanting to try and mitigate damages while he could, though, Joel reached for the roll of toilet paper that was fastened to the wall and tore himself a strip. He bunched it up and, reaching for one of your knees to spread you further for him, took to daubing the tissue across your entrance.

“What’s me bein’ old got to do with anything?” A little sharp, then, seeing you flinch when he drew too close to your clit, “‘m sorry, baby, just— gotta get this out of you.”

You made a face but let him continue anyway. Your eyes followed each movement of his hand, and reflexively, the muscles in your thighs tightened. Why bother with this when the man has so many better uses for his hands?

For a second, your eyes fluttered half-shut.

“Maria says old folks are, uh…infertile. Got something to do with a middle pause,” you said, breaths labored.

Joel stopped just long enough to shoot you a look.

“Menopause,” he corrected, all too matter-of-fact, before returning to his work, “is a woman thing.”

What the hell were they teaching in Jackson’s sex ed classes, anyway? Then Joel remembered how his brother sincerely believed that women peed out of their vaginas until he was twenty-three, and the thought of you not knowing the ins and outs of male virility wasn’t the most far-fetched idea in the universe. Besides, sexual health wasn’t exactly the community’s highest priority when the world around it was in a perpetual state of decay and hordes of fungus-faced fuckers ran rampant in the wild.

He curved a tender, careful finger against the ring of muscles framing your sex, trying to absorb more cum, and your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened.

“S-So, you—” You swallowed, throat constricting a little too, “You’re sayin’…men can make babies…whenever?”

You sounded so innocent as you said it. Joel wanted nothing more than to club himself over the head for being the cause of this predicament—of being such an instrumental part of the perceived corruption, as it was.

Meanwhile, your head was swimming in filthier thoughts.

Deeper, Joel, keep…pushing in…dee-e-per. You would have scarcely had more luck giving a fuck what Joel was talking about now than if he’d just said the room was on fire. By his voice, you knew you should’ve been paying attention, but the dexterity of his fingers was too much. He was caressing the first couple inches of your inner walls, attempting to scrape what bits of his release he could get unstuck from the flesh, but it seemed he was succeeding mostly in just turning you on. Rendering you deaf to the drone of his words as you pictured him pushing something else inside your tight, throbbing—

“—whole lotta problems for us if you’re, uh…ovulating,” Joel finished, expression taut and oblivious. You hadn’t heard the first part of that sentence and didn’t care to.

“Ovulating,” you repeated slowly. Indifferent.

Joel carried on without a hitch.

“Kids just ain’t fit for this world. I know you know that.”

You nodded along, not hearing a word.

“And if you’re— if y’ever did consider, maybe…”

Your lungs took an extra sharp inhale when Joel’s fingers coaxed out a warm, sticky glob of his load, and he petted your folds with his thumb. Then let out a breath himself.

“…y’oughta start a family with someone your own age—”

That part snagged your attention. Too swiftly, it came:

“My own age?”

Sighing, in spite of those welts of pleasure so heightened by his touch that the space between your legs began to throb and ache. Hardly possessed of more sense to form words that weren’t just echoes of his own, you tried communication from a simpler source—your foot.

You nudged his shoulder, and Joel looked up.

“What?”

“What?”

Parroting was, evidently, a hard habit to kill. Your toes curled into the bare skin of Joel’s shoulder, and when he re-inserted his finger, you ground your heel even deeper.

“When’s that ev…ever stopped us from doing it before, hm?” you said, tone strained but laced with some humor too, “Thought you liked sayin’ you’d make me a mama.”

Joel’s face flooded pink at the recollection—as a matter of fact, there had been several such memories. Instead of answering immediately, he just averted his gaze again. He anchored one hand to your thigh, and with the other teased out another string of your shared arousal before wiping his finger on the tissue, clinically, and repeating. All he had to offer in reply after was: ‘That’s different.’

And it was, to some extent. Joel wasn’t blind to the sea of uneasy looks that trailed behind you both whenever you walked the streets of Jackson together. How wide the eyes would get when instead of observing some filial display of affection play out before them, as expected, you’d loop your arms around his waist and take his lip between your teeth as you kissed—‘Can we please go home now, baby?’—that Joel was certain he’d been cemented as the resident pervert among everyone in town. Just how much worse that reputation was liable to get if there ever happened to be a round and swollen belly between that embrace someday was unthinkable. Dirty talk was one thing; parenthood another entirely.

This is for the best, became the low, grating refrain in his skull. Why he dug so hard, pushed so far inside the wet, velvety interior of your body without a thought for his own desires in that moment; he had to cull every trace of himself out of there, before he had half a chance to think.

“Baby, hey, hey, no—” Joel cut in a second later, abrupt.

No, no, no. You weren’t thinking either. Wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper inside.

Smiling a little, too.

“What are you— no, honey, don’t— you can’t,” Joel’s words splintered in every direction, watching you plunge his own index and middle fingers into the slick and the warmth he’d just been trying to get his cum out of. He looked up and saw your lids were heavy, about to close.

“What are you doin’? This ain’t…no, baby, it ain’t…safe.”

Back to sounding like a dad in no time at all.

“What’s wrong with leaving it in a bit longer? Feels nice.”

You had no idea what you were talking about. Joel pulled back on his hand and, in less than a second, had it freed.

“I just told you,” he huffed, “You’re too young—”

“I’m plenty old, Joel,” you returned, eyes snapping open, “You’ve shown me that more times than I can count.”

Joel was silent, stunned. He rose to his feet as your eyes seared holes into his, and for a second, he was uncertain whether to take a step back or reach out for you again.

“Baby…”

To his surprise, something like hurt surfaced behind your eyes. You set your lips in a tighter line, and your grip on the counter grew firmer just the same. He would’ve taken that move as his cue to lean in gently, slot his body between your thighs, and venture an apology of some sort, when the next thing you did stopped him cold.

Without a word, you slipped your free hand between your legs—eyeing Joel closely, almost scornfully, as you did.

You took your middle and ring fingers and sank them into your cunt. Not intending to let a drop of his spend leak out, you wedged them in as far as they’d go. Joel watched. Gawked. Once sufficiently pleased with the look of shock taking over his handsome, aged features, you withdrew the fingers. You brought them up to your mouth, wrapped your lips around the tips, and sucked.

It was a rare thing to get a taste of you and Joel together like this, so you savored it. You moved your mouth further down to drink it all in, peering up with wide, indulgent eyes and a look that was meant to punish.

Feels nice.

Tastes alright, too.

You’d licked the last bit of this glaze off your hand when your stomach clenched. You knew it would happen. Full as you were, you feared your body still hungered for more. As such, it hardly came as a surprise when next your muscles tensed, and you shifted closer to Joel.

“Maybe I don’t want babies with someone my own age.”

Either one of your knees were nudging his hips. Drawing him in. Joel appeared to waver for a second, unsure, but the look on his face made it clear this was mostly a matter of a delayed reaction. He couldn’t get his legs to move because the rest of him was still in awe. Staring at your lips, where the residue of his spend was glistening, then to your eyes, which were no less inviting, then up to the crown of your head and over it, to fix his stare on the mirror behind it. You watched him watch his own reflection with a look that was both hard and unkind, breathing slow. When he didn’t stir from that position after a minute, you touched a hand to his lower stomach.

And, brushing the heel of your palm against what felt like a hundred grey hairs in the old man’s happy trail—your favorite ones—you smoothed a caress along his belly, back and forth, before moving it left. Your hand came to rest on a mound of muscle and fat sitting right above his hip. Love handles, Joel had remarked one morning with vague distaste. Love handles, you’d repeated, beaming. You held on tightly now, appreciatively, and used your well-loved wall of flesh to pull him closer. As with any beckoning of yours, Joel didn’t have so much as half a mind to resist. He did, however, refuse to meet your gaze while you tilted your hips and spread your legs wider, before winding your ankles around the backs of his legs.

“Don’t you think I’d look pretty?” You pouted up at him. Your folds made a light, warm suction rubbing along the front of Joel’s cock—of course he’d grown hard again, and you could hold him, point him down to that wet embrace awaiting him patiently at the edge of the sink.

Joel cursed under his breath.

“‘Course I do…” he said, voice hoarse, “Y’always look—”

“I mean…with your baby inside me, Joel. Right here.”

As if to put a finer point on your words, you nestled the head of his cock inside the first inch of your body. Joel had to seize the laminate underneath you and grit his teeth to keep from letting out a groan too loud. That tip may as well have been a first-rate conductor of heat, and your warmth the thing that might send him spilling again

“You don’t—” Joel choked out, nearly incensed, “—don’t know what the hell you’re sayin’, baby. What that means.”

In truth, there wasn’t a world Joel Miller could imagine where a girl like you could give more than a passing thought to getting knocked up by him—a man his age. What good would it do? You had your whole life laid out before you like a four-course dinner spread; there was no sense whatsoever in letting the meal go to waste on him.

He communicated as much by moving to pull out.

You met the effort with a push of your own, sinking down another inch or two on his shaft and smiling when you saw his eyes roll back in his head at the dizzying friction.

“I know more than enough, old man—” Grin stretching ear-to-ear as you dug your heels in his ass and tugged him deeper, “—who do you think taught me all this?”

Of course, it had been Joel.

Always, always him—the only one, in fact.

Your walls drew him in like a hug. For once, Joel conjured up the strength to take a look between your lower half and his, and when he did, the next moan was inevitable. It trickled through his lips. Your body looked sublime swallowing a third of his cock, and it was almost as though a maggot had crawled into his brain, chanting:

‘Make her full. Make her yours. Tell any man who’d even think of looking her way she belongs to someone else.’

He couldn’t.

Joel would never be so selfish. Just think of her youth.

But when his gaze drifted back to yours, every thought and any word besides seemed gently to melt away. Beneath him, your eyes were two pools of desire.

“You like this…don’t you, Joel?” Your voice was tiny.

“I do.”

In fact, he loved it.

“Then why can’t we?” Why shouldn’t we?

Minuscule now, the words that reached him barely exceeded a whisper. It was as though the moment itself had drained all fear from your face—and out of Joel, all common sense from his brain—leaving you both to stare at the other with shared, stupid, anoetic looks of bliss. The man who had you beat by thirty-odd years seemed nearly of the same mind, with almost identical ignorance.

Idiocy.

“Just once?” Joel croaked.

Somewhere underneath, unseen, you smiled.

“Just one?” you murmured back.

He sank in another inch. When your walls contracted around him, Joel’s hands found your hips by force of habit and pushed your back against the glass behind it. The mirror was cool, and inside you, Joel was throbbing.

“Once,” he repeated, not thinking too deeply.

“One,” you said, with a world of more purpose.

Joel relinquished the last three inches, and with it, all of his resolve. The handsome, scarred, and plainly greying features all twisted as one, and the expression that you knew too well to mean that the man was feeling good took on the slightest hint of guilt. He gripped you tighter.

“One?” Joel panted. Confused.

He pulled out halfway just to find his home again. Your pearly slick mixed together with his spend, and both coated over Joel’s shaft in a pretty, generous sheen.

“One more of you, I mean.” You sounded too sweet. There was no way in hell you’d actually meant it.

Joel’s cheeks flushed again, but he didn’t stop, either.

“Baby…” he trailed off instead. He pushed in, pulled out, felt your tender little hole make an ‘o’ around his shaft, and then he kissed the edge of your left cheek—maybe to rein in the need in his words before he spoke again: “One’a me takes and I’m givin’ ya fifteen more, y’hear?”

The smile he received told him as much as he needed to hear. He probably wouldn’t have believed it even if you’d said the words yourself. Joel’s thrusts sped up, and as the pleasure distended in the pit of his stomach with the friction and the feel, his words flowed a little more freely.

In disbelief, “Wanna be a mama that bad for me, huh?”

Your grin grew bigger. You nodded your head.

“Make your old man a daddy, is that it?”

Exactly. Senseless as it was, your look said it all.

To have slipped between the grooves and ridges of Joel’s brain and caught wind of even a fraction of the things he wanted to do to you then, a smarter girl would have run. Would have shoved him back out as swiftly as she’d let him in and told him no, that’s gross, and gone home. And, had the grey matter floating inside your own skull not been so completely dominated by primal need and wanting, that’s likely what you would have done, too. Instead, with a head full of lewd, youthful stupidity, you seized the black-grey curls dangling at the nape of his neck and drew him closer. You spread your legs wider.

“That is what you’ve wanted this whole time, right?”

Under his scruff, a muscle tensed as Joel bit down.

That’s all he’s ever wanted.

Let the neighbors talk.

Let them say what they wanted to say—it was probably all true to the point they were trying to make, anyway. That Joel was a pervert, of course. That you were naïve, also true. That you would look too good not to stare in a white cotton frock with a bump underneath, absolutely. These were the ideas permeating your brain and his while Joel took a firmer hold of your sides and brought his nose to rest against yours. With every stab of his hips, he pressed kisses to your soft, parted lips, speaking low:

“That what you want, too, darlin’?” More serious now.

The head of his cock nicked a sensitive ridge inside you, eliciting a whimper, but you nodded. You nodded again, feeling the brush of his stubble at your mouth and your chin, and nodded again when he bottomed out, stuffing you tight. It felt a little more momentous than any other time in the past, now that you were picturing a fullness that wasn’t just him. Him and you: a concrete being to soothe the sting of his absence long after Joel withdrew.

Something to stick.

“Please say it, baby.”

Someone to call yours.

“I want it,” you said, sounding desperate.

A coil was just starting to form in the place you felt him. Drifting up, pulling tight, making your eyes go glossy and wide while they stuck to Joel’s and begged him for more.

“Want what?” He sped up, and his thrusts got sloppy.

“Want you,” you breathed, “Inside me, Joel, please.”

As if predicting your next thoughts, the man lowered his hand to your belly. You hadn’t even noticed the smallest bulge had taken shape beneath the skin. Joel slowed, momentarily, then rubbed the base of his palm against the mound where your body was obliged to make room for his cock inside you. He drew soft, tender circles there and, with the motion, sent stars flying before your eyes.

“Good girl,” he murmured, “Right here?”

“Ri— right there. Right there.”

Joel adored that sound. The soft, elated look, the gentle knoll of flesh in a bump below his hand, the whimpers rolling off your tongue repeatedly, quicker and quicker the more the pleasure inside you continued to build. Joel’s release was coming soon, too. For the hundredth time that night, he silently wished he were a little younger; so he could fill you up once, twice, twenty more times until your insides were stuffed and painted white. As if reading his mind, as he had for you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Hope our baby has your eyes,” you murmured to him.

It shouldn’t have had such a strong effect—but of course, it did. Joel pictured the small, sweet infant with irises that shone a bit like his, and his stomach caved in.

Tonight, tomorrow, or ten months down the line, he was getting you pregnant. He’d clear his whole schedule for it

“That right?” And now he couldn’t stop the smile as he spoke, leaning even further in, “What about their nose?”

He kissed the tip of yours.

“Hope they get this.”

He kissed either one of your cheeks.

“These too.”

You had to fight back a laugh while his scruff tickled skin. Two deep strokes away from the brink of release and he still somehow always stayed in tune with your needs.

The threat of your peak was perilously near. Joel’s spend and your slick, tender glaze made a chorus of sounds at each thrust, and the deeper he went, the bigger it swelled. Your smiles couldn’t stay for much longer when the feeling inside you both was being amplified like that. Sensing this, Joel took hold of your face and slipped his touch to cup your chin. He made you tilt your head up to him, as if to ask again, ‘Are you sure?’ and when you nodded, his lips twitched again. A fleeting hint of a grin, like he couldn’t be more eager to finish now if he tried.

Holding your face, cock swollen and throbbing and desperate between your walls, he felt a familiar twitch.

There it is.

[phonecompanion]

Stylish and Versatile, Luxurious Texture - New Women's Handheld Small Square Bag

The new women's tote bag is a must-have accessory for daily wear, with a fashionable and versatile design, light luxury texture, and made of PU material with lychee pattern car seam thread. The horizontal square design features a zipper and a hidden pocket, allowing for easy access to commonly used items. Additionally, the bag is equipped with a cell phone pocket and an adjustable handle for easy daily use. The interior contains an internal patch pocket for effectively sorting and storing items, making your life more orderly.

Furthermore, the bag offers multiple ways to wear it, including hand-held, cross-body, and single-shoulder, making it easy to switch between them at any time. The shoulder strap is adjustable to fit different body types. The bag also comes in five colors, allowing you to choose the one that best suits your preferences and needs.

The high-quality hooks and wear-resistant bottom design make this tote bag more durable, allowing it to accompany you for a longer time. The fashionable letter decoration design adds a trendy and personalized touch to the bag.

Overall, this new women's tote bag not only has a fashionable and versatile design, but also has outstanding functionality and user-friendly design, making it an indispensable companion for women's daily life.

The fashionable horizontal square design of this new women's tote bag is simple yet exquisite, with a moderate size that is suitable for daily wear as well as various occasions. The high-quality PU material provides a soft and textured feel, while the lychee pattern car seam thread design enhances the overall exquisite feel of the bag.

In addition to its fashionable appearance, the practicality of this tote bag is also outstanding. The interior of the bag features multiple storage pockets and a hidden zipper pocket, effectively sorting and storing your daily items and making your life more convenient. The bag is also equipped with an adjustable handle and a cell phone pocket to meet your different needs.

The multiple ways to wear this tote bag are also a highlight. Hand-held, cross-body, and single-shoulder options can be easily switched between, allowing you to use it in various situations. The shoulder strap can also be adjusted to fit your body type, providing a more intimate design.

Overall, this new women's tote bag adopts a light luxury texture and fashionable and versatile design concept, with exquisite appearance and outstanding functionality and practicality. It is a high-quality tote bag worth purchasing and using for women.

[tojipie]

thinking about toji bringing you to get your nails done :(

content: lots of fluff ! mentions of nsfw, fem!reader

──────────────────────

thinking about how the older man is set on staying in the car and finishing cigarette instead of sitting inside with you.

“m’ not going in there doll, you’ve got the wrong one.”

“who’s gonna hold my bag?” you plead with him, holding out your little tote for good measure. “you just bought this for me! what if it gets dirty or something?”

toji looks away, taking a long drag and holding the smoke in his chest before huffing it all out. “fuck.” he mumbles, opening the driver’s side door to stamp out his cig. “fuck, fine. let’s go.”

thinking about how strikingly out of place your boyfriend would look settled in a fold out chair beside you, mindlessly scrolling on his phone to pass the time. your cream-toned tote bag rests in the middle of his lap, guarded by one of his rough hands.

you lean over as the woman in front of you begins cutting your cuticles.

“what color should i get?” you whisper, giggling at his look of utter confusion.

“i don’t kn— the regular one?” he sounds so unsure. “i don’t know.” he says with finality, looking away to quell his embarrassment.

you hear a symphony of giggles and “aww’s” from the waiting area, toji turns bright red at the attention, turning his back to the crowd of invested onlookers.

“no one’s looking.” you tell him, trying to comfort him where you could. “if you want to go back to the car you can.”

toji side eyes you from his little chair, absently thumbing the strap of your bag.

“i’ll stay.” he mumbles, whipping his phone out again to scroll through his pictures.

the woman doing your set clips and buffs out your base before beginning with your gel extensions. the older man beside you scoots closer to watch.

his phone slips into your free hand, the picture pulled up on the screen almost makes you drop the device.

“jesus— toji!”

the scar on his lips contorts as his sick grin doubles in size.

“get those again.” he teases, leaning back in his creaky chair to gauge your reaction.

your boyfriend had pulled up a picture of the two of you, though the older man was definitely the focus in the image. your smaller hand is wrapped around the base of his dick, stroking his length. the nails in question are almond shaped with chrome line art.

they’re pretty, you’ll give him that. though you’re positive the two of you had taken safer pictures together where those nails were at least somewhat visible.

“fine.” you close the photo app and place his phone face down in his lap. you relay the request to the nail tech, shifting anxiously as she pulls out the chrome powder and gel tubes.

your phone lights up with a text from the man not even a foot away from you.

“you look real pretty right now.”

your heart jumps, basking in the private show of affection. you smile up at the older man, motioning for him to scoot closer. toji snakes a heavy arm around your shoulders, ignoring the squeals of adoration from the women in the back.

he pulls your finished hand to his mouth, pressing a firm kiss to your knuckles.

[project-1000]

Elevate Your Lunch with PROJECT 1000: Handcrafted Luxury Tiffin Bags

Make Everyday Special With a Handcrafted Tiffin Bag

Meal or gadget carrying can become a fashion statement! Consider a tiffin bag from PROJECT 1000 that goes beyond just utilitarian function. A bag that's as stylish as it is practical, crafted with love and is a commitment to sustainability. Handcrafted tiffin bags from PROJECT 1000 are exactly that. Each piece is designed to stylise your everyday routine, become a vibrant companion for work, and errands, or be perfect for casual outings with friends and family.

A Fusion of Tradition and Functionality

At PROJECT 1000, we have artfully blended two time-tested crafting techniques: handloom (weaving on traditional wooden looms) and charming crochet. Each piece is one-of-a-kind intricately crafted by rural women artisans in Maharashtra. They come in subtle and vibrant colour combinations that match different personalities and suit multiple occasions. Enjoy the beauty of textures and the soft luxurious feel of natural fabrics while writing your personal style caption.

Designed for Everyday Use

At PROJECT 1000, we are mindful of product design and want to make multi-utility bags. Hence, we proudly present our hand totes which are more than just a tiffin carrier. After giving much thought to the size, we came up with a practical solution of having a 14-inch body with a 3-inch gusset, providing ample space for daily essentials. These well-designed bags are incredibly versatile. One can carry lunch, take it to work, grab it for a casual outing, or bring your groceries home, these bags can handle it all.

Sturdy and Adaptable

Every bag is handcrafted by tightly weaving and knitting hosiery cotton and other natural fabric yarns making them strong and durable. The fabric's slight stretchy characteristic helps fit objects of various shapes and sizes snugly in place. The hosiery yarns used help absorb minor spills, keeping the belongings dry. The thickly woven structure provides a protective cushioning to the contents inside. The two things we understand perfectly, are the busy lifestyles of our customers and their need to clean their bags regularly. With that thought, we happily inform you that all our tiffin bags are machine washable at home. We do request that you use room-temperature water and mild detergent though to help the bag last for a long time.

We are responsible on many levels

PROJECT 1000 takes its commitment to the planet very seriously. Hence anything we design and develop has to be 100% sustainable and biodegradable. All the bags are a result of the creative upcycling of factory waste. We are completely plastic-free - both, the product and the packaging. Furthermore, our entire handcrafting process is carbon-neutral.

The Best Part? It Makes a Difference.

Project 1000 works towards poverty alleviation by training rural women to be able to handweave a salable high-quality bag. So, if you have liked a piece, and have ordered a Tiffin Bags Online, you have made a positive impact in rural Maharashtra. The proceeds from each sale go directly to the artisan who made it, helping her become an earning member of society.

Concluding remarks: More Than a Bag, It's a Statement

PROJECT 1000 bags are a testament to the talent of Indian rural women. Each piece celebrates the beauty of handmade and is a show of your solidarity to a more sustainable future. When you choose a handcrafted tiffin bag, you're not just carrying your lunch; you're carrying a statement. Whether you carry a meal in the tiffin bag or carry gadgets and essentials in a Lunch Tote Bag, you are making a unique fashion statement. Trust the rural Indian talent, believe in the luxury of handmade and create a better tomorrow.

Trust the rural Indian talent, believe in the luxury of handmade and create a better tomorrow.

[trashqueentm]

ISO a new market bag for fall? 🍎🍂 Look no further! 🍎🍂

[confidential-couture]

Hey Girlies! Exclusive Offers & Surprises Await! 🎁💃 | Shop Now & Save Big Hey there, lovely Girlies! 🌸👋  We've got some amazing offers just for you! Enjoy a flat 10% off on Pre loved Luxury Products below 3L and a sweet 5% discount when your Products is above 3L. But wait, there's more! For those who spend more than 4.5L, we've got extra special goodies lined up just for you. 🎁✨ Don't miss out on these fabulous offers! Shop now and treat yourself to some incredible savings. Stay tuned for more exciting offers and updates. Happy shopping, girlies! 💖  👉 Flat 10% off on orders below 3L  👉 5% discount on orders above 3L  👉 Special goodies for purchases above 4.5L  Subscribe, like, and hit the bell icon to stay updated with our latest offers! 📲

[anuschkaindia]

Global Inspiration: How Cultures Around the World Influence Anuschka's Designs

Global cultures influence design in the interconnected world of fashion. Celebrated for its unique hand-painted leather handbags and accessories, Anuschka is a prime example of how it adopts global cultures in its designs.

Anuschka makes beautiful, culturally significant pieces influenced by global traditions. Each design honors culturally relevant artistry by blending elaborate patterns, brilliant hues, and meaningful themes. These bags are more than simply fashion items; they are wearable pieces of art that celebrate variety and connect the wearer to a world of cultures.

This post will elaborate how other cultures influence Anuschka's designs, emphasizing the Company's dedication to promoting international diversity.

[bagsreviews]

Simple Modern Tote Bag for Women | Water-Resistant Laptop Purse with Zipper for Travel, School, Work | Small Medium & Large