#heek

[yebikey]

Elisha Cuthbert

[mukuberry]

u should be careful when eating chocolate bc it tastes so damn good and it makes u bite it all wild and crazy style and then the next thing u know the chocolate tastes less like chocolate and more like blood

[hottiesbooted]

Romanian Fashion Influencer, Model & Instagramer: 𝒜𝒹𝒾𝓃𝒶 𝒯𝒶𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓃𝒶 (@adina.tatiana)

October, 2020.

[toishiramitsu]

i think shes a little stupid but i love her lots

[epellucid]

via

[mrphotoprof]

[regu-1]

kicking and swinging my feet

Magnai Aymeric :]

[occamstfs]

Talismen III: Sorry For The Backwash

A gym crush on Simon gone wrong leads Tim to get in way over his head in the pursuit of gains and satisfaction; Soon enough the whole gym finds themselves wanting.

Okay I went a little crazy with this one, steamy muscle growth, hair growth, and corruption galore- Tim really spreads the love haha! It’s about the length of Talismen Beginnings. Hope you enjoy this plot advancing chapter, was quite fun to write! Like previously, the penultimate poll will drop on Sunday the 15th! -Occam! 

And so Simon finally arrives at the gym. Elsewhere in town Nicky sends an asshole careening towards the discovery of a better self, and perhaps launches his friend into shoes a few sizes larger and a wolverine eared beanie before heading off to grab some coffee. Back at the gym his boyfriend is never too far from the front of Simon’s slow plodding mind, after sending one last selfie to entice his beau, he puts down his affection to finally pick up some weights. 

Sandwiched in between a Jamba Juice and a bookstore, Simon ignores the static that fills his mind as almost saccharine familiarity bats away the eerie discomfort that he’s never actually been here before. He finds serenity as set to getting his blood pumping, delighting in the feeling of burning strain as with each thrust his new body finds itself more adept at exercise. In no time at all he moves about the gym with the expert precision and graceful ease that sculpting such an impressive form would require. His almost vacant eyes don’t notice the hungry stare of a nearby twink who has been shadowing him from the second he walked in. 

It’s not that Timothy is leering at the beyond sexy man, I mean how could anyone avoid staring, er, appreciating such an impressive form- The fact that Tim continues to happenstance choose machines directly next to the titan is pure coincidence and any charge that he’s trying to catch the man’s eye are pure slander. The blush that burns across his face the first time Simon’s eyes land on him is perhaps more evidential. 

The jock scratches the back of his head as he addresses the twink, exposing a sweaty pit that certainly does not help with Tim’s now quivering knees, “Hey uhhh lil guy, I think I forgot my water at home huhuh!” Tim laughs alongside the man though he certainly doesn’t notice as he continues on with his ask, “would you mind if I borrowed yours?” Tim’s eyes widen with fear as his neck locks trying to decide if he should nod in the affirmative or shake to suggest he’d not mind anything that the hunk would ask of him. Nor does it help that he’s unable to get a full word out. Simon stares, mouth agog as the twink stumbles through a few giggly syllables, “Ah ha! Weluhm, I heek!” 

Giving up on communicating like a human being, he averts his eyes shyly and raises his hydroflask. Simon takes it rougher than he intended and Tim promptly forces his hands to his crotch to adjust shorts and hide his excitement before meekly returning to stare at labored gulps and the few trailing droplets of water that escape and spill down into Simon’s sweaty beard. Timothy almost vibrates from the need to be topped by the man standing above him, totally unaware that the titan in question has eyes for his boyfriend alone. 

Delivering the jug of water back, Simon quickly thanks the twink and tries to joke, “Thanks little bro! My uhh, Nicky swears I’d forget my hat if it weren’t screwed on huhuh!” He pauses and scratches at his stubble, “Or no that’s not the joke? Uh-” He crosses his arms and half-heartedly flexes as he loses himself in labored thought, trying to remember how it goes.

In the meantime Tim takes the unintended hint that Simon’s taken and sighs to himself. He did figure that the man was too good to be true, c’est la vie- In the meantime, while his flask is open he may as well hydrate himself. Raising it to his lips he watches Simon quiet a burp and wipe his lip, “Oh uhh, sorry for the backwash dude-” This almost makes him race to drink it even quicker. No time to introspect however for as soon as it spills onto his tongue, Tim’s eyes dilate. The twink almost chokes from the speed at which he struggles to down more water than one should mid-workout. 

Never before now has the small man attempted to chug something at this rate, or at all really, though driven by lusty thoughts and burning delight as it soars down his throat he is suddenly swallowing like the best of them. His chest tightens and his stomach burns as he finally gasps for air, coughing up water and doing his best to not vom. Immediately concerned, Simon puts his meaty hands on the small man’s shoulders, sending a shiver down his spine as the twink grits his teeth and covers his mouth to quiet a moan. 

His heart races and his breathing accelerates as something alien begins to build within him. Tim can’t hear Simon’s worried questions as pressure begins to pound and he tries to stand. He feels a compulsion to move, to grow. Exactly like Nicky’s boyfriend mindlessly doing pushups on the cold ground, Tim feels compelled beyond reason to work out the energy that is beginning to build in his veins. 

Never one to seriously weight train he doesn’t know why or how he ends up on a bench press, but when his bleary eyes turn to see Simon loading weights on he’s filled with a drive greater than he could understand. “Are you sure you can handle this much lil guy?” Lil Guy. Tim grimaces as he feels his veins bulge in response. It matters not if it's from irritation or lust. He can do this. He can do way more than this. His soft hands grasp the iron bar and raise it. Despite his confidence however, just as soon it leaves the rack it comes crashing down, wont to heed the ever-persuasive call of gravity. 

Just before Simon has the chance to spot him, Tim calls the grunt off, groaning under the weight “I can- do IT” Simon gasps as he sees the bar immediately begin to rise. The man’s stick thin arms shake with effort as they raise it high enough to return the weight. When Simon goes to pull it back and remove weight he sees rage in Tim’s eyes and hesitates. Timothy then forces another rep, veins bulge up his neck as Simon unmistakably sees new muscle begin to bulge larger under the twink’s shirt. He forces it into the air once more and with a grunt the bar bounces higher.

There’s the sound of fabric beginning to tear as a shirt that was chosen to show off his lithe form cannot contain the required pecs that this bench press demands. Each impossible repetition packs more meat onto his body. Simon gives tips to the newbie and smiles as he sees the bar rapidly grow more stable, bony arms suddenly no longer left out as small biceps peak and struggle to follow the technique laid out by the clearly experienced jock.

After arbitrarily doing enough at the bench press, without a word Tim sets the bar back on the rack and wanders over to free weights. Simon quickly dismantles the weight left on and wipes down the bench, proud of how much of a sweat his apparent lil trainee has already worked up. By the time he makes it to observe Timothy’s corner of the gym he again sees the man trying to bite way over his level, though once more before he can intervene he sees the impossible. 

Tim takes a swig of his water and his arms grow meatier, sending tears up the already tight sleeves. Jaw clenched, he curls probably the heaviest weight he’s ever lifted as if it were nothing, with a grunt he does it again, and again. Simon grins as he sees the man's technique improve without a word, the strained sleeves on his mini-tee shred to nothing as they simply cannot contain the power Tim now holds within himself.

“Dude! That’s killer!” addressed by Simon directly, awareness returns to Tim’s eyes and the weight clatters to the floor, thankfully missing his feet as he yelps. Simon quickly rushes over clicking his tongue, “Ah you can’t be doing that bro haha! Clearly got a lot to learn about gym etiquette eh? Huhuh!” He puts the weights back up and pats Tim on the back. Staring up at the man Tim feels the need to be more rising once more, his attention goes to his flask and his mouth feels dry. Thirst controlling him he goes to drink only to find it already empty.

Simon nods and apologizes for drinking so much earlier, “Ah man, guess that’s as good a sign as any to call it huh?” Tim’s heart skips a beat as an almost existential fear fills him at the idea that Simon was about to leave him. As if he were on the precipice of losing it all. “Wait! Would you um, mind if you showed me a few more tips tomorrow?” Simon tilts his head and Tim hungrily waits for his answer, a red tinge hiding in his eyes that Simon’s far too distracted to notice. Grinning he starts to nod, “Y’know I always thought I’d be a good teacher huhuh! I’ll be in pretty early tomorrow so you just come say hi and we’ll get goin!” 

With that he pats the twink-no-more on the back and congratulates him on the hustle, “Great work today Tom! I swear you look fuckin’ massive with this pump! You should take a few to check yourself out dude!” Blankly smiling, unaware as Tim slightly glowers at being called the wrong name, he ruffles the shorter man’s hair and then grabs his gym bag to head home, “See you tomorrow lil dude!” Tim smiles and starts to say farewell though Simon’s already halfway gone by the time he reopens his eyes. Taking a second to pout all anxieties and fears fall away as he turns to see his new reflection.

His expression drops as he realizes his shirt has totally been discarded at some point during his pump-fueled fugue state. Taking in the new power that writhes and flexes underneath his skin, his fingers trace abs and follow veins as before cupping his powerful pecs, almost burning hot enough to steam his sweat. He tries to swallow but comes short as his dry mouth and impossible thirst remains. He twitches and his eyes shift red as the only recourse is more than clear. He needs more.

The next morning Tim drives to the gym before it opens to sit and wait for Simon to arrive. Every so often he turns on his windshield wipers to remove condensation accrued from his passive body heat alone. Eventually when he sees the brute jogging up with his gym bag in tow Tim quickly springs to action to force a fake meet-cute. He knows the jock’s taken but can’t blame a guy for trying. 

Counting on Simon’s general lack of awareness he races to hide just out of sight and bump into his new trainer as he rounds the corner. Without a hitch he successfully bumps into the shirtless man and is rewarded by getting the behemoth’s sweat all over his even skimpier gym clothes. Simon, thinking nothing ill of this must be accident, remains happily unaware of any untoward motivation from his new trainee. Already grinning at the prospect of working out, he just reaches out and ruffles the man’s hair again, “Gotta watch where you’re goin’ little guy huhuh!” 

Tim in turn babbles off a good-morning as he is struck woozy from such close proximity to the man, his b.o. easily more than clouding his mind. Barely able to stay his tongue from licking the sweat off of Simon, Tim’s unrelenting thirst compels him to offer the beast another drink from his hydroflask. Like a dog showing his owner a present, Simon quickly goes to grab his own water bottle, almost tearing off his pants as the bottle is attached by a carabiner. With a laugh he explains, “Thank ya dude! But after I told him about yesterday Nicky made sure I’d not forget huhuh! He was so worried that I’d be dehydrated and all. Little worryworm, or- Uh? Worrywart?” Simon laughs and shakes off the brief confusion and just rubs the water bottle gently, thinking about his lover.

Timothy rolls his eyes, jealousy breaking him from his musk-based trance, “Okay! Whatever- Shall we get started then?” Simon returns his attention to the man in front of him and begins to escort him inside. Throwing an arm across the smaller man’s shoulders he explains his plans for their workout today. Tim hears none of it however as he instead zeroes in on the sweat dripping down his back. The newly made twunk grunts and stretches his neck as he feels his traps cramp under the weight and wet of Simon’s arm.

Feeling sweat drip from Simon’s exposed pit down his right arm, Tim grimaces as suddenly his body pulls that direction. With a glance he sees it hang bulkier, thicker. Tim can’t hide the glee painted across his face as he realizes even proximity is enough for him to parasitize growth from the dreamboat he apparently isn’t to have. Simon looks down perplexed as he feels Tim grab at his calloused hand and rub his arm down his back, smirking and twitching as he does so. “Uhh Tim?” A moment later he grunts and stretches, his back widens, straining his shirt. 

Simon’s used to being confused so he doesn’t try to make sense as his new trainee suddenly shoots up half a foot in height, his midriff exposed as his arms stretch longer, muscle fibers straining before pulsing to remain as thick as they were before they sprouted. The jock pauses and closes his eyes as despite his best efforts, he sees what happens and something in the back of his mind knows he has seen it before. Tim, in between basking in his new power and languishing in the sensual growth still happening across his body grabs a clearly sweat stained towel from Simon’s bag and ties it around his waist, hoping to spread growth to his hitherto neglected glutes and thighs.

When Simon indeed returns to awareness, shaking off his stupor he see’s just that. Now supported on tree-trunk thighs he barely needs to angle down to make eye contact with his trainee. When he sees the man’s cock pulse through his gym shorts he purses his lips as he for the first time realizes that his trainee might be into him. Not that that’s a rarity of course, he’s quite the prize.

The quickest glance towards Tim’s eyes makes it more than clear that he may have something a little darker than your average crush. There is something deep, a hunger for something greater. Simon’s usual confidence wavers, briefly concerned about his client’s conflict of interest. He did promise to help with this session though. Chewing on his cheek, Simon fights against better judgment to stick to his word, opting to help as promised. Getting started he sets to lead the man who increasingly looks like he doesn’t need help over to the free weights.

In no time at all Simon watches as Tim works up a pump greater than any he’s ever seen, baring his own of course. He struggles to offer feedback as the should-be twink increasingly feels the need to butt heads, to peacock rather than try to train. When Simon sees red flashes in the man’s eyes, alarms once more begin to go off in the back of his head, but then his trainee surges just that much larger, his pumped arms bulge that much bigger, and he is instead distracted by how quickly his student seems to be advancing. “Guess I can’t call ya little dude any more huh?”

Tim smirks and flexes at his trainer, biting his tongue as everything within him feels the need to lob pick up lines at him. His arms tense as he barely stops himself from simply pouncing on the man, to do everything within his increased power to seize his fountain of growth forevermore. He clears his throat and ignores how off he sounds, his sing-songy performative pitch replaced by a harsh wolfish baritone, “Yo bro, not to pry- cause I know you got your little bitch, er- boyfriend. But-" When Tim calls Nicky a bitch Simon suddenly shifts deathly serious "Can you just get to the point Tim.” 

The new jock averts his eyes, annoyed at being interrupted though knowing that he is not the one with the power here, “Look I’m just sayin-” he goes to grab Simon’s hand, “I’m sure he’d understand if you wanted to have a little fun.” Feeling Simon’s sweaty hand grasped, he shivers as new calluses develop on his own. His kindly trainer almost grimaces at his advances and pulls away before growth can continue to pile on. Simon purses his lips and looks away, “Look, uhh- I’m not so sure we’re a great match. But, uhh-” Tim watches gears slowly turn as Simon struggles for an eloquent way to effectively dump him, “But what.”

Tim’s eyes narrow as if he’s readying to strike, his thoughts race as everything in him suddenly goes on alert. Chords entirely cut to the twink he once was, he feels Simon is the only tether towards further growth, towards becoming more of who he must be. When he sees the generally jovial man sigh and go for a sip of water to give him time to gather thoughts, Tim’s defcon-one strategy becomes clear. Seeing Simon start to pull away he makes up his mind. If he’s going to lose access then he must get as much as he can right now. 

His hand goes to curl into a fist and he swings, not at Simon of course, but the container of nectar he holds to his lips. Hurt beyond measure Simon watches as his new bottle spills all over the avaricious body-builder. His mouth is open but he clearly makes no further effort to drink it as it rains down mostly onto his chest. Tim falls to the floor and his hands shake as he rubs the water into his rapidly bulging, pounding pecs. Simon stares rapt with judgement as the man’s muscular chest bursts free from a shirt that was already painted on.

Individual muscle fibres pulse and expand as he convulses on the floor. His shoulder awkwardly forces itself upward as growth enacts itself across his body in swathes disparate and seemingly painful. Despite the nigh assault, Simon immediately abandons everything to kneel down and help the man as his body contorts and writhes, arms stretching and building unevenly as deeper grunts issue forth from a widening throat. Red light shines through eyes clamped shut and drool drips from clenched teeth.

After a few minutes of heaving breaths and impossible expansion, Tim eventually relaxes on the cold gym floor and looks up at Simon with a smirk. Content that the man is fine and, at least for the moment, ignoring the impossible transformation that he has witnessed as a means of survival. In defiance of some shred of self that recognizes the transformation he ignores the flash of red in his eyes that stares at and into the man on the floor and scoffs, “Good luck finding a new trainer.” He pauses, wanting desperately to say something clever but is waylaid by his duller wit, his gentle spirit, and the terrifying feeling at the back of his mind that something has similarly irrevocably changed who he is. He slowly shakes his head and wanders off to the shower.

Tim crawls after him pleading him to stay around though even as he struggles to crawl after the man he cannot help but realize that he seems to have bitten off more than he can chew. That is until he sees Simon go into the locker room rather than straight out of the gym. His mouth reflexively contorts to a smile and his heart skips a beat. There remains more for his greedy hands to take. His drive for more compels him to fight through pain, through soreness. He can’t help himself. He cannot stop himself.

Simon stands. He tries to sneak though every step elicits a quivering gasp of pain. He bites his forearm to quiet his pained pants as he presses forward towards Simon’s discarded gym bag. Seeing the used jockstrap lying on top his free hand goes to grasp it before neurons even fire in recognition of what it is. Adrenaline and static sear through him great enough to feel pain no longer as he doesn’t stumble but sprint out of the locker room, out of the gym, and into his truck. He doesn’t know how but he’s wearing it before the keys turn in the ignition.

He has drunk after Simon, he has rubbed the man's sweat over his skin, he has washed his chest with his spit. These are nothing compared to his wearing the man’s discarded, post-workout jock. Were he struck by lightning he would have less energy coursing through him, his whole being vibrates and his vision tints red as by the time he’s home he can scarcely exist for what is flowing through him, what is overflowing out of him. He cannot think for the pleasure and power coursing through his veins, mainlining into his nervous system through the purloined jockstrap.

So overwhelmed is he it’s almost as if he’s unable to maintain what has been thus far been bestowed unto him. As if he were becoming less defined, less real. While his muscles compress and his mind sits on the precipice of total erasure, it is clear what aspect of self is benefitting from his impossible situation. When he finally realizes how dire- how tenuous a hold he has on what is happening to him, what is becoming of him as his blood begins to burn he discards the jock and his eyes land upon a cock that may be the closest man has ever come to perfection. 

Pubes like a burning bush around an obelisk of a dick. His hands twitch as they go to grab it and they burn with pleasure as Timothy is filled with feeling so intense that he sees only red, he feels only static, he hears nothing but the rushing of blood through his ears. Through gnashing teeth he is no longer aware of having he unknowingly does the only thing that could save him. Just as he begins to lose the capacity for thought at all, he stumbles upon a wish. i wish i could share this- and with that whatever staticky magic, whatever inhuman energy flowing through him from Simon, from Nicky, is discharged. 

He awakens on the edge of orgasm sitting on his couch, as soon as he’s conscious enough to move he loses control. Painting his torso as well as the wall behind him with cum his breathing stutters as he stares at his dripping cock. His hands shake as he reaches for it, twitching it stands higher and crisscrossed by fleshy veins and surrounded by a garden of pubes distinctly thicker than how he keeps them. Grunting as he convulses to prevent himself from cumming again he hears his voice echo through the room deeper, stretching he finds his limbs are longer. His mind dances with the idea that what just happened to him may not have just been some all-too-real dream after all, but some true working of magic.

His hands go to cup his thicker balls, and as they are graced by a callused hand that seems to have done perhaps one full day of work before, his hips rut and he loses control once more. Splashes of cum decorate his hairless stomach and chest that currently maintain only the most superficial of muscle and vascularity. Taking in the mess he has made of himself, Tim’s eyes widen as he observes something new beginning. Like tears of god the cum decorating his chest has begun to seed bountiful thick curls everywhere it lands. Rapidly do jungles of hair sprout up across his cumstained body enough to perhaps rival that of Simon’s. Though as he sees his newfound ability to change himself, Simon loses such prominent status from his mind.

His hands, having been incredibly near to the epicenter of his powerful release are certainly not spared from his loosed loads. Thick hair begins to trail up his forearms, accompanied by veins even thicker than he held during his peak performance with Simon. Shaking off whatever anxieties remained from his near cosmic experience, as well as any desire to understand what is happening to him, he gleefully begins to rub his cum into pecs as they begin to amass weight and strength once more. This time they are artfully decorated with curls he has longingly lusted after since he first stumbled upon his proclivities towards masculinity.

While his fingers dance and sculpt his body into what he has always wanted to fuck and only recently hungered for himself, he becoems aware that his plans have returned to the headspace wherein he truly lost himself. In between dragging through a treasure trail that now acts as a highway from his neck to his cock, playing with nipples that hang pertly from a chest no man would be ashamed to have, playing with lengthy pit hair that holds a permanent undeniable aura (Read: musk), he overcomes his prideful shortfalls, shaking off his need to personally be more- shaking off his obsession with seeking fulfillment in power, in forcing some jock he doesn’t even know to acknowledge and fulfill him he is struck with the desire that let him persist. I Wish I Could Share This. 

Taking time to spread his seed across his jawline and ensure his face has stubble, Tim stands to feet and smirks as pre continues to drip down from his cock. Curls spread up from his wider feet to meet with the forest of hair that coats his calves, which rush to surge and match the density of hair that ushers forth from his thighs and crotch. He stretches and groans with a clear mission laid ahead of him. Propelled with the desire supernatural, bestowed upon him by himself, he throws on as little clothing as he can get away with and wanders out from his home. No need to choose a destination as some will greater than himself already pulls him closer.

Before he’s made it down the street he grimaces and removes his shoes, sizes too small already; they're simply too tight for any continued charade of decency to be worth it. When hairy toes just as soon burst forth from his socks he grins and presses onward, delighted at the prospect, the ideal of never being contained. Each step forward stains the earth beneath him with a sweaty footprint. Each mark a proof of currently barely perceptible change that he has wrought, should someone investigate too intently they are sure to find themselves pulled in and changed as well. Though such contagion is paltry compared to what is to happen when he finally reaches his destination.

His entrance to the gym is unheralded and yet as soon as he steps in the doors every man drops what they are doing to stare. The hunger red hot behind his eyes returns as he meets their gaze and smiles. The receptionist starts to try and speak, some drilled in procedure acting subconsciously. When Timothy turns to observe the quiet voice he freezes up once more before he’s filled with confidence and a burning need to be closer. The receptionist barrels over the counter and races to be the first to reach the titan, to be the first to receive his gifts.

Mouths drop as all watch Tim effortlessly tear the shirt from the man before pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. Wherever Tim haphazardly makes contact with the young man muscle bloats and hair blooms. The manicured fur on his chest rapidly spreads and races to meet with bountiful gardens that push out from underneath his arms. Stubble on his face explodes into a full beard as new prickly strands push out from pores appearing in between pores, never to be combated by a razor again. His chest pushes larger as he struggles to push in closer to Tim than physically possible, as if he were trying to make their forms one. Shoulders just wider and arms hang closer to the earth as biceps form and hands expand.

The receptionist’s eyes roll back as Tim’s graceful and rough fingers slowly twirl downward from playing with chest hair. Following the directions of a new thick treasure trail he finds a bush of pubes spreading further and growing more tangled by the second. Even the lightest touch is enough for the changing man to lose control. Overwhelmed as Tim was from the jockstrap, the young man stumbles backwards, away from the eidolon and into the crowd. Immediately he bumps into another would be congregant to the beyond-alluring gym-rat.

Still not satiated, if such a thing is even possible, the receptionist immediately turns and begins frotting against the wanting man he wantonly bumped into. He does not see his eyes cloud over nor the red mist that falls from his mouth as he makes out with a longtime regular to the gym. When he begins to feel his new beard scratch and tangle with stubble that his suitor had not seconds ago it only makes him all the more excited. Soon enough others see the receptionist begin to spread changes himself, and when they see some clumsy jock bump into the man still tongue deep in receptionist and shiver as he too begins to grow, all Hell breaks loose.

In short order every man in the gym finds themselves changing beyond their wildest dreams. Musky bodies grind against musky bodies. Pecs push into pecs as men who haven’t even realized they liked body hair suddenly find themselves rapt in the heady delight. Newly hairy stomachs and chests scratch against the sweaty curls of other men who can scarcely recall their names. Mouths find mouths, pits unleash b.o. great enough to fill the gym with a cloud of musk. In no time at all dicks are unleashed as they grow too large to be contained by briefs, jocks, or boxers as cum begins to join the litany of other bodily fluids that fly through the air. 

Tim simply watches in reverie as men continue to frot, fuck, bloat, and grow hairier around him. When he sees sensibility or awareness return he simply offers a helping hand and watches bemused as their dumb smiles return. He wanders through tangled bodies exalting himself to find each and every one greater than they were before his guiding hand. Minds consumed with nothing further than the sensual pleasure he offers, not even present enough to question why they had ever prioritized anything else to begin with. 

For a moment Tim himself has some second guesses as to what he has done. Seeing a friend he almost recognizes shake as he grows a foot in height as his man bun retracts into nothing as a beard shades his face. Watching the prim bottom manhandle a jock who is changing far slower than himself gives him pause. Watching men bloat up and become new vectors of transformation. Is this better? Just as soon as the words come they vacate as he takes a deep breath of the scarlet shaded musky air. Of course it’s better, what could one want more than everlasting pleasure.

Soon enough he doesn’t even remember that he was the one to begin the orgy that this gym descends into, it is simply something that happened, that is happening. New gym goers file in as the day goes by and immediately find their place in the bacchanalia. Outside the juice bar and bookstore the gym was wedged in between corrupt into a protein shake shack and sex shop, perfect for the gym rats and himbos to stumble into whenever they need to take a breather before returning to the fracas. The gym becomes a canary in the coal mine of a world that is soon to come, though it is not the inly of epicenter of change in this city.

Nicky’s wish for Simon to have confidence in himself has had repercussions beyond the pale, though that is what happens when one makes wishes and casts spells haphazardly. Due to his desire to forget his strange encounter, he remains totally unaware of what he has unintentionally wrought. In a chinese food restaurant a delivery man scratches at his stomach after making a stop at a friendly apartment next door, he himself could sure use a bite to eat. All across town people Nicky has wished well find themselves becoming more. People Nicky has wished would learn a lesson do so in ways he never could expect, in ways he would never wish. For now he simply continues on as normal, though when Simon finally comes home to tell his boyfriend of a strange encounter with some guy at the gym and the disquieting flashes of red in the back of his mind, perhaps Nicky will finally discover how his will is being enacted, how it is being twisted into the world.

Poll Results:

Delivery - 30.5%

Follows Alex from Talisman II as Rich has unwittingly sent him on his own path to Transformation as he goes on deliveries to find some of his regulars acting strange (General masculinzation for Alex alongside some other shorter fun TF’s, i.e. twinkification/Stoner tf/preppification)

Hazmat 21.6%

Forces race to contain the spread of transformation, but who polices the police as it were (Continuing onward with jockfications)

Location Location Location 24.1%

To test his powers Nicky deliberately changes a whole establishment and the people within, though unfamiliarity or disbelief creates a new locus of transformation (Library to Fraternity? Craft store to sports store?)

Barista 23.6%

Accidentally uses talisman on barista and through effort Simon gets Nicky to observe and become aware of the situation (cafe goer into various TFs surfer/cultural change/might toss in a F2M, is there interest there??)

[allthingseurope]

Kamenice Gorge, Czech Republic by Lisa Heeke

[jakexneytiri]

Hey bbgurl 💕 could I request a dad Teyam fic where reader walks in on him playing dress up with the kids, just a fluffy situation 🤭💗

btw I will not mind if u give it a spicy ending 😏 if u want to ❤️

✨😘LOVE YOU!!✨😘

-🐬

this is such a cute idea. YES. love you too hehe 💓

(i know it’s very unlikely for an olo’eyktan or tsahìk to not be wearing their garments, but jake and mo’at seem pretty understanding. and the kids are only borrowing it for a few hours!)

⊱✿��� ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

“me next, me next!” txonuk yells, tugging at the feather ensemble tsantu is sporting.

“careful, careful now.” neteyam gently says. “we have to take good care of these, grandpa was nice enough to let you borrow them for a bit.”

“but dad, i wanna have a turn at olo’eyktan!” txonuk crosses his arms, jutting his lower lip out.

“you will, txonuk. you just have to be patient and wait your turn, yes?” neteyam questions, ruffling the braids on top of his son’s head.

txonuk sits, still pouting. se’ayl approaches him with the tsahìk headpiece. “here, ‘nuk. you can be tsahìk!”

nima giggles beside her sister. “‘nuk is sa-heek!” she erupts in a fit of laughter, running to her fathers side.

txonuk scowls, holding an arm out to se’ayl. “no! i don’t wanna be tsahìk. i wanna be olo’eyktan!”

“okay, txonuk. it’s your turn now.” tsantu says, lifting the feathery ensemble off himself.

nima’s tiny fists ball up as she rubs her eyes, simultaneously yawning. “daddy? i sweepy.”

“you’re sleepy, hm? all right nima, come on.” neteyam scoops his youngest up, her head immediately resting on his shoulder as she yawns again.

you pull back the flap to your marui, slipping inside with the basket of fruits you’ve been harvesting all day.

“mama!” tsantu runs over to you, grabbing the basket so you don’t have to carry it over to where you eat.

you smile at your oldest, kissing his forehead before he walks off with the basket. “thank you, tsantu.” you glance around at your other children, and your mate. “whoa, what’s going on here?? you didn’t tell me the olo’eyktan and tsahìk were here!” you kneel before txonuk and se’ayl, signing an “i see you” to both of them.

they both erupt in a fit of giggles, making sure to sign back to you.

“we’re playing dress up, mama! grandpa said it was okay.” se’ayl explains, carefully removing the headpiece from her hair. “you try, mama! play dress up with us!” stretching on her tiptoes, se’ayl carefully places the headpiece on top of your head. she gasps, clapping excitedly. “mama, you look so pretty! daddy, look!”

neteyam is just tucking nima in, who’s out like a light. walking back over, he sees that you’re now wearing his grandmother’s headpiece.

and you look beautiful in it.

“oh, wow…” neteyam exclaims, unable to keep his eyes off you.

your mate’s gaze never failed to give you butterflies, even after twelve years of being mated with four children.

“well?” you question, smiling. “what do you think?”

before neteyam can answer, txonuk is handing him the feather ensemble. “dad, your turn! play dress up with mama!”

your mate chuckles, carefully taking the accessory from your son and sliding it over his own head.

you stand, and take a step back, admiring how good your mate looks in the garments. stepping closer, you circle around him, fingertips tracing along his skin, earning a shiver from him.

“this is a good look for you.” you whisper, fingers intertwining with his as you smile up at him.

neteyam chuckles, kneeling on one knee as he kisses both of your hands. “my beautiful tsahìk.” he glances over at tsantu and se’ayl, who are taking turns yawning now. “all right, come on. let us settle in for the night.”

the rest of your children settle beside nima for the night, yawning as they close their eyes. you and neteyam kiss each of their foreheads goodnight, before tying the flap to your marui closed.

smirking, you pull your mate close, trailing your fingers down his chest.

“do you think we could make a small stop before returning this?” you purr, tail swishing eagerly behind you.

[pansyfemme]

Everybody knows pee is stored in the balls. For some, that's a chest. For others, well... Assc heek. Sometimes testecal

pee is stored in the heart actually. love is stored in the balls. common misconception

[elacular-kink]

Hicvember 20: Throat

It's funny that the idea for this one came to me almost immediately, because I've never put a whole lot of focus on throat movements, nor have I ever had really big feelings about vampires. Oh, by the way, this one has vampires.

Contents: Hiccups, neck focus, vampires, blood drinking and blood talk generally, enemies with benefits, degrading language (slut) (not affectionate), burping, inducing hiccups.

"Will you hold still, you insufferable bendy straw!?"

"W-well i–*ULP* if you keep ma–*HUK*–king me laugh, *HULK* of course no–*HOK* not, Wall–*AUK*–ace!"

"I will chain you to the fucking wall again! Don't think I won't."

"Oh n–*HOK* nooo, please! *HIUK* Don't throw me in tha–*UCK* that briar patch!"

Wallace snarled, showing off his gleaming white fangs through his unnaturally wide-spread lips. That just made his uncooperative slurpee laugh even harder.

Wallace Chain (AND YES THAT WAS HIS FUCKING NAME!!!) was a dignified vampire! He'd lived centuries longer than any of these walking wine bottles ever could! He was a scion of the proud immortal lines of Great Britain! He was technically still a lord, probably! This ambulatory black pudding was supposed to be his prophesied enemy, the descendant of those who had pointlessly fought his kind for centuries all across the globe! Ishmael Văn-Hall was supposed to be his generational foe to be dramatically warred with, then eventually killed in an orgiastic celebration of vampires' triumph over the pathetic cattle that was mortal man!

SO WHY WAS THIS OBSTINATE FUCKING SMOOTHIE LAUGHING AT HIM?!?

Ishmael, whose name Wallace really shouldn't have bothered remembering, was offensively mediocre and absolutely not stunningly handsome with his dark brown skin and curly hair and sharp eyes and offensively wide grin. He worked as a data entry drone, for fuck's sake! The only method of fighting he knew was taking Taekwondo lessons in a strip mall as a child, a fact which he had proudly informed Wallace of within minutes of meeting him! And here he was, tied to a chair, absolutely refusing to let Wallace get a decent drink from him because his jugular wouldn't hold fucking still because he kept fucking hiccuping and that kept making the insufferable stolen blood that pumped through Wallace's veins go inconvenient fucking places! He could only stare as the man's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat with each hiccup.

"Oh come o–*OCK* on, Vladdy *HNK!*" Ishmael tilted his neck offensively at Wallace, waggling his eyebrows. "B neg–*GUK*–gative. Very rare. *HUK* Your faaaaavori–*ICCUP*–iiiiite." His whole body bounced with every hiccup, but the way the triangle at the bottom of his neck caved in over and over again was particularly obscene. "None of th–*HUP* those gross, che---chewy RhD pr–*HUK* proteins."

"RhD proteins are not fucking 'chewy'!" Wallace jabbed a finger into Ishmael's vulgarly bouncing chest. "And do you have a death wish? With your neck fucking..." his blood inconveniently filled up his stupid fucking face "...spasming in that fashion, I could rip you open and let you bleed out accidentally instead of doing it on purpose!"

"Are you su–*HURK* sure they're not ch---chewy? I feel li–*UCK* like it ha–*HUCK* has to be like an o–*HUP* orange juice pu–*HULP* or no pulp kind o---of thing. *HMNK*"

"DO YOU WANT ME TO MAKE YOU A VAMPIRE SO YOU CAN FIND OUT?!"

"Oh do it! *HMK!* Vampirize m–*HEEK* me, Vladdy!" Ishmael twisted in his chair so he could make aggressive eye contact with Wallace, who felt his dead husk of a heart beating faster than it had any fucking right to. Even as his head jerked back over and over, exposing his delectable fucking neck like a slut, his eyes fell half lidded and his voice dropped low and smoky around his hiccups. "Make me im–*hmp* immortal so you ca–*UCK* can deal with m---me for th---the rest of your fu–*huk*–ucking life."

Wallace forced his body not to tremble.

He turned around and kept his back to the stupid fucking wine bottle. "Fine. I've lived for over two centuries. I can be patient. I can outlast any little mayfly like you."

"Don't lie to me, Wallace. *hmp*. You're not good at it."

A growl escaped Wallace's throat as he glared into the wall. "Your weak attempts to delay the inevitable are fading."

"Hmm. Yeah. Guess my hiccups are going away." Ishmael hummed.

Wallace knew what was coming. Wallace fucking knew what was coming. He knew he could do it, he'd seen Ishmael do it before. What Wallace should have done right now was turn around faster than the human eye could see and bury his fangs in that bendy straw's fucking neck so he could drain him into the husk he was meant to be, finally filling his belly with all of the brilliant red wine that he could drink.

...he kept facing away anyway.

"It'd be a real shame if I were to do something like..." Wallace's face burned as he heard Ishmael start swallowing air, the bobbing of his throat offensively audible as he did before belching shamelessly. And then he did it again. And again.

"I will kill you, you know," Wallace said. "Your artery is going to impale itself on my fangs."

"Yeah yeah," Ishmael's voice strained slightly around an audible gulp before he opened his mouth. "*SuuuuUUUUUUUUuuure* you will. *HRMK-mmmrp* I'm sure you d–*llk* don't have an–*glp*–ny other way *lgk* you rea–*lkt* to drinking from so–urk–gff...from somebody w-with—ulk—" The audible struggle in his throat made it almost unbearable for Wallace to keep facing away. "...with the hi–*IC–GUUUUUUUUUUUUPS!* *HIULK–UUUUUURRRR–CUP!*

"GOD DAMMIT!" Wallace wrenched around and before he could stop himself he had his fangs buried in Ishmael's neck. In his stupid fucking warm, delicious, bubbly, spasming neck, slurping hot blood in big clumsy gulps as it bounced out of him, desperately trying to control his body and avoid what he knew was fucking inevitable as he drank and drank and drank and drank and—"*HMLK!*"

Ishmael's neck shook around his teeth and beneath his lips for a completely different reason and Wallace felt like he was on fire under the fucking sun. "Oops. *uuuuuur–CUP!* Now look wh–*huk* what I've done. *mmmmrrr–GUP*–mmf. 'scuse me."

Wallace's diaphragm spasmed with renewed life and vigor as Ishmael's neck kept moving under his lips.

He hated that bendy straw so fucking much.

[mademoisellekalopsia]

Flushed All Over

|| At the Train Station ||

"No—not at all. It was all an innocent accident–Hup! Ugh!...Pardon me." {A faintly flush, a fist over their mouth, gentle smile]

[B's face reddens] "T–Thanks...uh-hum—no worries! You're all fine."

[A's lightly bowed their head, minding their own business whilst letting their case course as it pleases]

[B's face grew red, speaking in an inside voice] "Oh dear, I feel warm. Sheeet." [Pats their rosy cheeks twice out of flusteration]

"HUP! Ooh, sorry!" [A nodded slightly to B silently apologizing for the case, then noticed B's flushed face] "You alr–Hmk!...alright?" [A's face growing flush in return]

"Yeah–yeah! Just fine." [Clears throat, nodding their head slightly for an unspoken apology of their reaction] "Uh...h–h–hot weather. Eheh. Darn weather, woo!" [Chuckles softly]

[A's chuckle-hiccuped] "It re-Heek!...is, isn’t it?" [Clears throat] "Though, I...HNG! Are you sure you're alright?" [A kindly expressed their concern]

"Just f–fine!...Um. Are you?" [Tucking hair strands behind their ear, showing concern but feeling ever flustered]

[A flushed as they felt their body jostle twice, a hand on their chest subconsciously] "Hmmmk! Mmm...Sorry! I am, too. At least I—I think. Hiccups."

Eventually, A and B were too flustered to speak any further. For now.

[hiccupscloud-26]

Hicvember Day 18: 2+ Cases

Hey guys! This was actually my favorite one I've written so far. This was actually the story that prompted that post reminding myself that I'm an adult, lol.

Just Indyko and Calliope as usual

Hicvember prompts: 2 cases at a time/induced/cuddles/fantasies (got a lot done with this one, lol)

CW:

Fast hiccups

Induced hiccups

Burping/belching

Burping in face

Horniness

Arousal mention

Make out section

Mention of a gun

Flirty teasing

Implied sexy times not written

Without further ado, enjoy

Indy and Calliope were just relaxing and watching a movie when Calliope had brought up one of her fantasies that she'd wanted to try. Indyko was curious as always, experimenting with Calliope always ended up being really fun and entertaining.

She had told them that she'd always dreamed of witnessing 2 cases of hiccups at one time, or having the hiccups alongside someone else. Indyko had smiled and nodded and told her that they could plan out a day for them to have them together.

Today was finally the day. Calliope had gotten herself her go-to inducer: a bottle of soda. Indy didn't know what would induce their hiccups, but they did know spicy foods did it. They honestly didn't want to deal with the heat.

“Maybe we should wait until I have the hiccups first,” Indy brought up their concerns, “I'm not sure I want to experience those heat hiccups, if I'm being honest…”

Calliope nodded, “that's valid, hun. I don't want you in any pain. Then it'd be no fun. Do you wanna try my method?”

“If you show me how to do it,” Indyko blushed slightly. “Maybe it will work for me too.”

“Let's hope so,” Calliope giggled quietly and placed a kiss on their still blushing cheek. “We're so goofy, people usually want to get rid of hiccups, and instead we're actively trying to get them. Weird, huh?”

“Eh, who wants to be like everybody else? Normal is boring, you gotta live life the way you want to,” Indy shrugged. “If that makes it weird, then we'll be weirdos together.”

“Indy…” Calliope looked at them in complete awe before going over and placing a kiss on their lips.

Indyko squeaked, gasping in shock and swallowing a bubble of air as they kissed her back. The two of them continued to kiss each other, getting a little distracted by each other. Indyko grabbed Calliope's stomach, playing around with it as they deepened the kiss, noting their breathing quickening. They were on their way to a full blown make out session until Calliope felt an instantly recognizable and hard thump in Indyko's chest. Her eyes widened as she quickly felt another, this one forcing their lips apart with a loud *HMPK!* caving their throat inward.

Indy placed a hand on their chest as they tried to catch their breath, though it was extremely hard with their hiccups jolting them every few seconds, give or take.

“I-*HICK!*‐I thi-*NK!* that d-*HUP!*-did it,” Indyko looked at Calliope, smiling slyly, “your *HOLP!* tur—urn~”

As much as Calliope had wanted to just witness this extremely rare fast case of hiccups that they'd been blessed with, she nodded, picking up her soda and getting to work. She didn't leave her spot on Indy's lap, feeling every jolt, every jump, she was excited, her head flooded, yet floating at the same time.

Indy was preoccupied, playing with Calliope's tummy as they rode through these rapid fire hiccups. They'd never had a case like these before. They were almost too much for them to bear.

Almost.

Calliope drank her soda, watching Indyko play around with her tummy. It sloshed and gurgled with the liquid being poured down. She released and burped loudly. Right in Indyko's face. Calliope covered her mouth, “oh my gosh, excuse me, I'm so sor-*hick'it!GRRRREULLP!* excuse me.”

Indyko hiccupped through a quiet groan, “fuck *HUCK!* that was so-*HOLK!* hot.”

Calliope's eyes widened like saucers, then smirked, deciding to play along with them, “oh ye-*hiyuck*-yeah? You like it when I *hup-GRRRRUUULLLUPP!*-aah burp in your face?”

“Callieee-*HICK!*-eee*HEEK!*-oof,” Indyko's head was thrown back twice by the force of those hiccups.

Calliope giggled, “sorry, just a little teasing. How are you holding up?”

She frowned slightly at the lack of hiccups. She started drinking more soda until the bottle was empty.

“I'm *HU-UP!* doing alright *H'GUP!*, though I may n-*HNK!*-need to, um…” they blushed profusely and looked down, trying to avoid looking at it.

“Oh shit,” Calliope knew what they were getting at, “ok…you wanna- *huck!*...*HUCK!HUCKAH!GUP!* Fi-*ic'KULP!*‐nal-*hngkuh*‐ly, whew the-*heek!*-these are *huck!* f-*hu'uk!*-fas–st, fu-*huck!*”

Indyko whimpered, holding onto Calliope's stomach, thanking whoever invented crop tops. They held on tight, but not rough, as the hiccups bounced her stomach fat, making it jiggle stunningly.

“Gosh, Ca-*HIUP!*-lliope, you are *HUCK!* stunning,” Indyko whined, their hips twitching slightly. They pulled Callie closer to them so that she was now straddling them, “please *HULP!* Callie.”

Calliope froze before burping in their face again, eliciting a beautiful sound from them she hadn't heard…ever. “Oh excu-*holpkuh!*-excuse *HULK!GIUP!* me, je-*HEEK!*-jeez.”

Indyko winced, “Callie ple-*HEEK!HIK!HUCK!*” At their increased excitement, their hiccups quickened. “It hu-*HERK!*-urts.”

Calliope frowned slightly, “your h-*ic'KULP!*‐hiccups?”

Indyko shook their head and blushed even more as they steadily played with Callie's stomach, their own chest jolting alongside their hips. Their jeans were getting tighter and tighter. Calliope slowly processed, but when she did, she smirked slyly, “is tha-*HACK!HUCK!*-that a gu-*GILP!grrrup!*-gun in your po-*hu'uck!*-pocket *HI'UH-RRRP!* or are you *hngkuh!hip!GUP!* excited to see-*heeeek!grrruuullp!HULP!*-mm, me?”

Indyko glared at Calliope unamused, “you're *HUPAH!* cruel.”

“Okay, o-*hup!*‐kay, clothes o-*hmpf!*‐ff, get re-*hip!*-ready for a wild *HIYUCK!*-oof, ride.”

~~one sex scene later~~

The two partners were now laying on the couch, both naked, cuddling up with each other, out of breath, but not out of hiccups apparently. Indyko was on the couch, Calliope on top of them. They had somehow gotten their hiccups to sync up with each other.

“How was *hyuck!* that?” Calliope giggled at the *HULP!* that Indyko copied.

“Incredible,” Indy beamed and continued cradling Calliope's tummy Like it was the most precious and fragile thing in the world. “Thank-*HNGK!* you.”

“Mmhm-*hmkmk!*-mm *HUWICKUP!*-nnngh *ic’KAUP!* shit,” Calliope groaned.

“You okay? *hip!* Not slowing down, huh? *hingk!*” Indyko gently rubbed her tummy, noting their hiccups were now out of sync.

Callie's seemed to be speeding up again while their own were slowing down.

Calliope shook her head, “not at *huuuuck!* all, *KUP!*...aren't organism-*hmpk!CUP!*-ms supposed to sto–p hiccups?”

Indyko tried not to laugh, “you mean or-*huck*-orgasms?”

“You knew what I meant *HOUP!*-oof,” Calliope shrugged, laying her head on Indyko's chest, listening in on their last few hiccups.

“Yeah, or so I've *hk* heard…well, I guess it *ic* kinda worked for me,” Indyko shrugged and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

“Y'know, that was *huuckiiip* my first time?” Calliope noted and Indyko almost jumped up.

“No way, what? Wait, why am I surprised, it was my first time too…” Indyko couldn't help but chuckle at themselves and Calliope joined in too.

They held each other as they laughed, enjoying their moment before they eventually calmed down, wiping tears from their eyes. “You know I really do love you, Calliope, don't you?” Indy looked at her with all the seriousness they could manage.

“I know, Indy, and I love you too,” Calliope reached a hand up to cup their face, “I love you so much and…I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Indyko's face instantly lit up in the brightest red imaginable. “...” They couldn't even conjure words to throw a sentence together.

Was that a proposal? That sure sounded like a lighthearted proposal. Or maybe they were just thinking too deeply into it.

“Hehe, did I break you?” Calliope chuckled and nuzzled closer to them.

“A-a little bit, yeah,” Indy admitted sheepishly.

“Aww, what did I break you with? Just curious,” Calliope smiled endearingly up at her beloved.

“Oh…uhhh, just…when you said you looked forward to spending the rest of your life with me…” Indyko blushed impossibly redder. “Implying that…you wanna marry me?”

Calliope blinked as she realized and nodded, “yeah…I really don't envision me with anyone else, and…I wanted to give you a whole extravagant, surprise engagement, but I kind of ran my mouth a bit too much, huh?”

Indyko blubbered out total nonsense, just at a loss for words before they calmed down. “I don't need anything big or extravagant…”

“Oh…but it's what you deserve,” Calliope reached down and grabbed Indyko's left hand.

“Maybe, but I prefer small and quaint,” Indy squeezed her hand gently.

“Huh…then, would you say yes if…I were to ask now?” Calliope could feel her heart thumping heavily in her chest.

“There's only one way to find out…”

Calliope slowly sat up and looked at Indy incredulously, but one look at their face was all she needed to make her decision. “Indy, will you be my life partner and marry me?”

Indy couldn't hold back their tears as they covered their face. They were prepared for her to ask the question, but still lost their composure. They nodded their head, “yes…yes, of course I'll marry you.”

Calliope beamed and softly chuckled, hugging them close, also tearing up slightly, “I'll get you a ring, the best, most beautiful ring, you'll see.”

“I can't wait, love,” Indy blubbered out and hugged their girlf-no, their fiance back.

Fin~

[gierosajie]

MY BRAIN KEEPS PLAYING THE "They took my he/hims and my che/heeks" WHILE I'M TRYING TO WRITE A PAPER DUE TONIGHT

[saucyjothoughts]

One more lingerie Kris for all the naughty Boos out there. I like him in charge.

- ghosty👻

"Kneel for me," he purrs. You do so eagerly. He's gorgeous above you, long legs and fine hair and sharp cheekbones. The garter belt attached to his stocking perfectly shows off his waist, the straps curving over his ass, making the plump, round mounds of flesh even more delectable.

There's nothing containing his hard, large cock. No panties to speak of. His perfect balls hang free between his legs and he gives himself a few pumps just to keep himself hard for you.

You know your place, know what you're meant to do, how you should worship him. You kiss his feet first, contained in black high heels, working your way up stocking clad legs until you find your nose against his crotch, breathing in his masculine scent even as he's dressed in feminine pinks and lacy trim. A contradiction in creamy skin and strong arms.

You gaze up at the sheer bralette he wears, his nipples on show through it, the pink buds perky and hard, begging to be adored by your mouth. Instead he takes his long fingers and fists them in your hair, pulling you to his cock.

You open your mouth and the weight of his dick soon rests on your tongue as he pushes inside. Slowly, oh so slowly he fills your mouth with velvety soft skin and a rich deep smell. You take it all, down to the base, his fine pubes tickling your nose.

He moans and rocks gently on his heeks, surprisingly stable despite the hight. Maybe he should wear them on stage.

You focused on pleasuring him. You run your hands up his legs, feeling his smooth skin below the nylon, you squeeze his perfect round ass, full and gorgeous and oh so pretty when the others spank it red.

He pushes and pulls in time with your mouth, letting out small pants and moans as he fucks your face, his sheer lingerie only heightening the experience. He touches himself, one hand over his chest, then pulling his hair, then touching his ass while the other always holds you down. There's no question here who is in charge.

His cum eventually covers your face or squirts down your throat, wherever he wants to put it. He might be dressed like a perfect doll but you are his toy.

I am going insane over all the wonderful interpretations of this simple concept! I am drooling over this, thank you so much, 👻boo!