#i got one hell of a radioactive they/them pussy

[porttohuume]

So anyway this came to me like a holy vision from god

[gamerwoman3d]

Going through my notifications when these tags caught my eye

@bi-hans it made me imagine things 🤐

[Spicy/Explicit ideas under the cut 🔞]

First off if Shang got ahold of Sub-Zero, that means he also got ahold of Scorpion. And maybe he even caught Smoke but one bro at a time bc otherwise my brainrot will get brainrot.

Secondly it would take multiple Bi-hans to contain Shang Tsung: He's weasely and he can change the shape of his body so most restraints are useless. Bi-hans ice might work great on holding Raiden's hands to Madam Bo's bartop, but against the shapeshifting even that be useless.

Restraints that might not be useless to shapeshifters include Cyrax's shrinkwrapping net or something else that Sektor comes up with. In any case it might look like some radioactive-green rope shibari going on.

If Sektor gets involved in studying Shang Tsung it could be cool if Sektor figures out a way to 'force' Shang Tsung to shapeshift into whatever they want to play with. You know how when Reptile shifts halfway it kinda peels away the human to reveal the scales? Imagine Sektor using tech to "peel away" Shang Tsung's bottom half to replace his cock & balls with a more sensitive clit and g-spot on a whim.

But the best thing I imagined was two of the Bi-hans wanting a taste, with one of them just going for it and the other like "hell, scoot over." And instead of just moving aside enough so they can both go down at once, the first one just shoves Shang Tsung's thigh open further until he's basically doing the Johnny Cage style splits. Then the clone just gets beside him cheek to cheek and they both plant their faces in his pussy together.

I'd imagine each clone has the original's memories up until the point when the cloning occurred. Shang Tsung would totally pull a Sorcerer's Apprentice move and try to turn one Bi-han into two, and then two into four. That's as far as I think he'd get before they take over. I imagine the original is easy to tell apart b/c the others have no scars.

I also imagine Scorpion arriving to witness the aftermath. He sees like, 4 Sub-Zeros getting dressed around a strung-up fucked-out Shang Tsung breathing heavy, caught in a still-dripping web of glowing green ropes. And of course the first thing Scorpion does is get critical, like "I don't see why this was necessary, bro what are you thinking"

Then Shang Tsung sees a chance to piss him off and he takes it like "perhaps you'd be more sympathetic if I looked a bit... different," as he changes into Harumi's form. Still a mess. Still fucked-out. Still bruised up and bitten and basking in the afterglow. Just smarmy, with an uncharacteristically smug look on her face, right before sticking her tongue out at him in a debasing "come here" motion.

It gets hotter in the room and all four Bi-hans just watch Scorpion suppressing the rage in his face in silence. Scorpion doesn't look at any of them, but slightly jerks his thumb toward the door in a dismissive "get out" gesture with his eyes locked on Shang Tsung. The Bi-hans leave the room. They each give Shang Tsung one last meaningful look before they leave, to let him know without a word that "Shang Tsung, you just goofed."

And then insert whatever torture/edging/murder/orgasm denial fantasy you like.

[mellicose]

Mirror

A Peter Vincent (Fright Night) x Lucian (Underworld) Fic

Rating: Mature, for MMF erotica

Word Count: 4870

Summary: Lucian, Stella, and Peter have a some fun together after one of Peter’s gigs.

Note: This is absolute crack. Like, thirsty grown ass woman fandom crack p@rn. I’ve never written full-on m|m before in my nearly 15 years of writing high-brow erotica, so you’ll have to excuse me if it’s not 1000% accurate or perfect or blahblah, but I’ll be damned if it wasn’t delicious to write. If you like my other stuff, this will have the same flavor, except with 100% more pen!s.

Anyway, on with the show.

“You’re eager for another go, aren’t you?” Lucian said, sitting on one of the fancy leather sofas in Peter’s penthouse.

“Hush, pup,” she said, smiling as she poured herself another whiskey. “Anyway, it’s your fault. I’m only a mirror-”

“Watch your mouth,” he said, but his smile didn’t fade. She snapped her teeth at him, and winked. 

“Who cares if he hears? He doesn’t know,” she said, sitting at his feet and sipping the liquor.

“Maybe,” he said, running his heavily ringed fingers through her long hair. “Why you sitting down there?”

“I like it down here, with you. It’s a stellar view,” she said, nuzzling his knee. His leather-clad knee squeaked. She bit down playfully, but harder than she would ever dare with a human. He growled at her, and his hand became a fist in her hair.

“Watch yourself, witch. I’m no dog,” he said, his pupils grew until there was only a small ring of white. A tear rolled down her cheek from the pain, but she was smiling.

“No, you’re not,” she whispered. “That’s why I adore you.” Her eyes were going cloudy. She knelt and got between his legs, although his fist was still in her hair, pulling painfully. Her hands moved up his thighs and met at his groin. “Oop. What’s this?” She bit her lip.

His grip loosened, then fell away. “You humans are an odd lot,” he said. He traced the tear line down to her parted lips, and slid his finger inside. Again, she bit.

“You’re more vicious than some in my pack,” he said, and replaced his finger with the meaty bit of palm right underneath his thumb. She play-growled and bit down harder. He leaned forward, staring and feeling her arousal. Her tongue laved the red teeth marks on his flesh. “Craven,” he said softly.

“Me?“ she said, undoing the laces of his pants. She raked her fingers down the silky hair on his lower belly.

He leaned back, letting her touch him. “You don’t dare bite down.”

“I’ll draw blood,” she said, kissing up from between his nipples to his neck.

“You afraid of what might happen if you did?” he said. Her kisses stopped, but her mouth remained on his neck.

“I’ll become one of you,” she said into his skin. “Would you really want that?” She raised her head to look at him.

He laughed with his whole body and hugged her. “Bloody hell! You’d take over, and what would become of me?” he said. He kissed her all over her smiling face.

“Aren’t you two adorbs,” Peter said from the dark. He walked in, wearing a short robe that left little to the imagination.

“Uhuh,” she said, sitting on Lucian’s lap. She rested her head on his shoulder, and both of them watched as Peter crossed the room to pour himself a drink. They sighed in unison.

“So you-” he said as he slammed some god awful radioactive green concoction, “-you two are fuckbuddies?”

Her and Lucian looked at each other, and chuckled. “Whyever would you come to that conclusion?” she said as she licked her finger and played with Lucian’s exposed nipple.

“Alright, alright. I thought she was a new part of your envoy,” he said, shrugging as he took another shot. He scratched at his exposed chest, which was clean and devoid of sigils. Again, they stared.

“You’re not completely wrong,” Lucian said slowly, as his eyes moved down to where the sash barely held the robe together.

“Whatever,” Peter said. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand your weird immortal sex lives,” he said, running his fingers through his freshly washed short hair.

“I’m not immortal,” she chirped, but the men were watching each other intently.

“And yet you insist on consorting with us,” he said, running his hand up her thigh and underneath her skirt. She gasped softly and spread her legs. Now, Peter stared.

“With her, yeah,” Peter said without preamble, and came closer. “Where the devil did you find her? This afternoon was wild.” He smirked.

“It’s not your concern,” Lucian said. Her head lolled on his shoulder as his hand moved rhythmically underneath her miniskirt. Peter took a few steps closer. Lucian raised his face and sniffed. “Can you smell that, Peter?”

“What?” he said quietly as Lucian’s other hand moved underneath her tank top to squeeze her breast. He licked his lips, his eyes locked to Lucian’s.

“I know you consume vampire blood so your senses are somewhat heightened, but you can’t imagine what a human woman’s arousal smells like when you’re truly immortal,” Lucian said. He held up the hand that had been underneath her skirt, and his fingers shone in the low light. Clear strings of arousal dripped from between his fingers.

“Don’t stop,” she said, tugging at Lucian’s arm. 

Peter cursed softly and fell to his knees, his mouth watering.

“It’s better than drink, and more narcotic than drugs,” he said, and ran his slick fingers across Peter’s lips. Peter groaned and sucked her off his fingers, eyes half closed with lust. She caressed him, smiling dreamily. “But you know that,” Lucian said indulgently, pulling his now-clean middle finger out of Peter’s mouth.

“More,” Peter said, staring hungrily at her. Lucian whispered something in her ear, and she moved so she faced Peter. Lucian spread his thighs, and her legs opened wide. Her skirt rode up to her hips, exposing her swollen, smooth pussy.

“Fuck,” Peter said softly, caressing up her thighs. “You know me too well.” Just as he darted forward to taste, Lucian pushed him back hard enough to make him roll on the carpet. He hated when they flexed their muscle like that - especially in front of a woman. It was embarrassing.

“Not so fast, slave.”

“I’m not your slave,” Peter said sullenly, sitting up. His robe was twisted around his slim frame, and he was fully exposed. Unlike Lucian, he was clean shaven.

“Perhaps not to us, but to the bloodsuckers…” his eyes settled between Peter’s legs. He was still half-hard. “You can’t refuse a woman, can you?”

Peter stood up and shed his robe. Lucian’s lips twitched with mirth. The vampire blood did him well, and he wasn’t ashamed to show it. He eyed Peter’s hard belly, and the tempting curve of his ass. It did him very well. She stirred in his lap, her hands busy pulling his cock out of his pants.

Peter watched as she stroked Lucian’s cock to life - it was thick and throbbing out of a nest of black hair. 

“I’m always game for sexy fun, but I’m not …” he wriggled his finger at her stroking hand. Her legs were still parted enough to give him a choice view, and she was beginning to drip with anticipation.

“You’re not what?” Lucian said, pulling her shirt over her head. Her nipples hardened in the cool air, and he slowly traced circles on her areolas. 

“I don’t suck cock,” Peter said flatly.

That’s not what I heard Lucian thought, but he held his tongue. She giggled.

“Of course not,” Lucian said. “We’ll share her, as a sign of peace and friendship. Nothing more.” Again, she positioned herself with her legs wide open on his lap. Although he licked his lips again, this time Peter didn’t fall to his knees.

“Don’t you want it?” she said, running a finger up her slit.

“What do you want?” Peter said, looking at Lucian. “You obviously didn’t only come here for this.” He looked funny, nude and semi-aroused, yet with his arms crossed.

Lucian massaged her thighs, and her belly tightened with sensation. Her breasts jiggled as she reached behind her to caress him.

“As ever and always, a little bit of information,” he said. 

“I told her everything I know,” he said, pointing at Stella. He bent to pick up his robe, but Lucian growled low in his throat. The sound was distinctly non-human, and he dropped it and held up his hands.

“I mean it. She knows what I know,” Peter said. “We’re friends, right?”

“Friends,” Lucian said. He bit his lip, flashing a fang. “Sure.” His eyes moved over Peter’s body.

“I can’t tell whether you’re horny or hungry, man,” Peter said, speaking his thoughts aloud. Sweat beaded his brow. He was starting to feel lightheaded. More interestingly, he didn’t mind Lucian’s eyes on him. Was it narcissism, or lust? He was too foggy to tell. 

“Man,” Lucian repeated, chuckling. ”Perhaps pleasure will knock something loose in that vamp blood-addled brain of yours,” he said finally. “Come and have a taste of Stella.”

“Stella,” Peter said, smirking. “You okay with that, beautiful?”

“Touch me, Peter,” she said, beckoning to him. He knelt again, and buried his face between her legs. She was musky and sensitive and delicious, and his tongue moved haphazardly from her opening to her clit and back. Lucian slapped the top of his head. Peter grunted into her flesh. Lucian pulled him away by the hair.

“Fuck, what are you about?”

“Don’t you find Stella deeply desirable?” he said patiently.

“Yeah,” Peter said, a bit disoriented. The top of his head hurt from Lucian’s grip.

“Then do it properly,” he said. “This isn’t just about your base desires.”

“Alright. Just … let go.” It came out less aggressively than he wanted. Lucian nodded. His eyes followed as he bowed his head to lick again. This time, he gently spread her lips and licked her swollen clit, then circled it with the tip of his tongue. She shivered. He watched as Peter swirled his tongue on her overheated folds and sighed. What fragile beauties humans are. So given over. Unburdened with the curse of forever.

Lucian’s eyes followed Peter’s every move intently, and his cock swelled and pressed in the cleft of her ass and very near where Peter’s mouth worked. The tip of his cock nudged right underneath her opening, and she began to gyrate her hips to stimulate him. Peter thought it was solely for him, and he moaned and slid a finger inside her, then gasped and pulled away. His wrist was streaked with precum.

“Don’t stop,” she said, her hands in Peter’s hair. Lucian’s kohl-rimmed eyes were questioning. His cock twitched underneath her ass, preternaturally thick. The purple tip of it contrasted with her pink. It wasn’t an unpleasant sight. She shifted her hips, and the crown of it nudged between her lips, where her wetness and his saliva had made her slick. Again, he looked up at Lucian. His hand was on her belly, splayed. Offering.

“You want to watch,” Lucian said, amused. Stella tipped her face up to kiss the corner of Lucian’s mouth.

“Let him do as he pleases. I want you inside me,” she said. Lucian looked at her affectionately and licked the tip of her nose.

Peter’s cock strained against his belly. He stroked it and groaned at his own touch. He was already aching.

“Do it,” he said, his voice hoarse with lust. “Fuck her.”

“Crass,” Lucian said, then canted his hips to slide inside her. All three of them sighed together as the broad tip of his cock stretched her, and she began to ride him, legs spread wide for Peter’s gaze.

“Does it feel good?” Peter asked, leaning over to fondle her breasts.

“Better than heaven,” she said.

“Naughty girl,” Lucian whispered, and kissed her. Peter watched as their tongues darted in and out of their lips, and his own mouth watered. He looked down, where he was balls deep in her, unmoving.

“If you’re not gonna do any work …” he said, and kissed her flat belly, licking whorls closer and closer to her cunt, which smelled almost unbelievably enticing.

Lucian ran his fingers through Peter’s hair. He moaned and moved up to suck on her tits, thinking it was her hands touching him so tenderly. When he looked up and noticed it was Lucian, he jumped back, cheeks red.

“Hey …” he said, but softly. Stella began to ride Lucian’s cock again, and his hands moved to her breasts.

“This is a rare pleasure,” he said softly against her temple as he fucked figure eights into her. Peter watched, bemused. He had not been able to tell that it was Lucian’s touch, and not hers. And he liked it.

Stella extended her arms to Peter. “Kiss me. I want to feel your mouth on me,” she said breathlessly.

He looked at Lucian, questioning. Lucian nodded, and he fell on her, kissing her as passionately as Lucian did. Her mouth tasted vaguely of berries and blood, and instead of putting him off, it inflamed him. His cock rubbed up against the slick insides of her thighs, and she gasped.

“I want you, Peter,” she said into his kisses. She pulled him to her, fingers digging into his ass. “Give it to me.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and thrust home … and his cock slid down her slit and bumped into Lucian’s as he pulled out. Again, he froze. Stella kissed his temple.

“It’s okay. Do it now. Please.”

He looked into her eyes and relented, groaning as he slid easily inside her. Even as pleasure made his hairs stand on end, he was aware of Lucian’s presence. Her delicious warmth, her softness was his doing. He’d aroused her, and stretched her open for his quick, deep thrusts. 

She writhed against Lucian, crying out. Lucian didn’t dare fuck her that hard. She knew there was good reason for his restraint - too much aggression, and even a Lycan as old as he was could turn. She loved him, but she missed a deep, hard dicking.

Peter felt her open up and gave her everything, face tilted up to the ceiling. He felt something in her. Something special. She was a witch - that was obvious - but she hadn’t clearly stated what kind. He sucked the sweaty flesh of her neck and ground into her. It didn’t matter. All pussy was good pussy to him. He felt … surrounded. Held up. Something pressed into his perineum, and at first he assumed it was her, fondling him, until he felt both of her hands on his hips.

He stopped mid-thrust and opened his eyes. Both Lucian and Stella were sweaty, eyelids heavy with pleasure.

“Why’d you stop?” Lucian said. He canted his hips, and Peter felt a pleasurable pressure against his perineum. It was his cock, sliding deliciously against him as he fucked Stella.

“Oh wow,” Peter said, withdrawing and moving back. “Shit. Fuck.”

“What is it, beautiful?” Stella said, reaching out to him. “Come back.”

“You were … on me,” Peter said, pointing to Lucian’s cock. It was glossy with their mixed juices. “Man.”

“You must stop calling me that,” Lucian said, lifting Stella from his lap and standing up.

“I’ve done a spitroast, but I don’t know …” his voice trailed to nothing as Lucian unbuttoned his shirt and threw it aside. His body was stocky, and strong, and his chest was covered in downy black hair. He pulled down his leathers and kicked them off. Stella sat and watched them both, the corners of her mouth twitching. Would it be that easy?

Lucian pulled the leather thong from his long black hair, and it cascaded free over his muscular shoulder. Peter whimpered.

“You were saying?” he said, holding his hand out for Stella.

“I was-” Peter rubbed his chest pensively. “-nothing important.”

Lucian picked up Stella, to her delight. They looked so free, and open, and happy. He wanted to be part of it. She cleared her throat.

“So, you gonna take us to bed, handsome?” Stella said.

He led them to the bedroom, which had floor-to ceiling glass. Vegas glimmered in a thousand colors all around them as Lucian lay her on the bed.

“It looks like you,” he said as he lay beside her, on his side.

“Can people see us, if they really look?” Stella said, guiding Lucian’s hand between her legs.

“Nobody cares. Everyone’s fucking,” Peter said, crawling in beside them.

Lucian smiled. “We’re not.”

Peter held his breath, but Stella pushed him on his back and mounted him. His toes curled, and she bounced above him with a smile. She leaned down to kiss him.

“Gods, you’re a beautiful freak,” she whispered, and slid her tongue into his mouth.

A freak. He supposed he was. He wasn’t supposed to be alive, yet he was literally strengthened by the blood of his enemies.

Lucian got on his knees to kiss her, and they moaned in unison as he gently caressed her clit as she moved on top of him. Peter opened his eyes. Lucian’s cock was hard and wet, bouncing gently with Stella’s movements. He grabbed her waist, and it slid hotly against his forearm.

He blushed, for the first time in fifty years. Stella took Peter’s hand and guided it to Lucian’s cock. 

He squeezed for a moment - it throbbed, and it was so hot - Lucian stopped kissing her to look - he groaned as Peter’s fist moved toward the tip - Peter’s body tingled and his cock twitched inside Stella, who cooed with pleasure - 

He moved his hand away. It was slippery, and he squeezed it shut. It was still warm from Lucian’s flesh. 

Stella rolled off him and lay back, legs wide apart. “Come taste him, Lucian,” she said, and surprisingly, he obeyed, lying on his stomach and licking her wetness from her thighs, then her mound …

Peter stared, and stroked himself. Lucian looked so given over, so content to lap at her. He crawled closer, sniffing. Without stopping his licking, Lucian pulled him between her legs. Their bodies were pressed together, their legs tangled, Peter’s cock pressed against Lucian’s muscular hip.

Lucian looked in his eyes as his tongue circled her swollen clit. His tongue moved down to her opening and slid inside. She sighed and ran her fingers through Peter’s hair, coaxing him closer.

“I want to feel both your tongues,” she said, spreading wider.

Peter breathed sharply, then bowed his head. His cheek was pressed against Lucian’s bristly one as they darted their tongues in her folds. She moaned loudly as Lucian softly licked at her clit, and Peter muscled his tongue inside her.

“Fuck!” she cried out as Peter withdrew as slid two fingers inside her. Now both of them licked her clit. Peter’s heart was pounding. Lucian’s musky breath warmed his cheek as their tongues began to tangle against her. He felt a hand, slippery and strong, move up this thigh as he finally dared to respond to Lucian’s kiss. He closed his eyes and let him suck on his swollen lips-

Peter pulled away and looked at Lucian, whose blue eyes had gone deliciously dark. His hand was on his hip, caressing.

“I, uh … um …” he said, but Lucian pulled him on top of him with a grunt and kissed him. Peter was dizzy, but his cock was rock-hard and throbbing against Lucian’s hip. They were breathtaking, his kisses. Deep, and hungry. He was done pretending.

Peter raked his fingers in Lucian’s thick black hair, which smelled improbably of amber. It was exhilarating, kissing a man’s neck - bristled, thick - and finding it utterly enticing. His hypermasculine scent only made him desperate, and he kissed down to his chest and bit like he watched Stella do. Lucian groaned and caressed his shoulders. 

He didn’t dare look up, so he moved down to his belly, both soft and hard, and stopped when he felt Lucian’s hard cock pressed against his neck. It pulsed insistently as his own heart beat, and Peter realized he could smell him now. He wondered whether that’s what he smelled like to someone else, and whether they felt that same quick-growing hunger to taste the closer their mouths got to his cock.

His lips pressed right where Lucian’s hair started, but he was still. 

Stella licked his ear. “Let’s do it together, honey. I’m gasping for him,” she said, and gently nudged him aside for access. She grasped Lucian’s cock and gave it a long lick from base to tip with a broad tongue, staring into Peter’s eyes. She licked the tip, and a clear string of precum extended from her tongue to her lips, and she leaned over to kiss Peter, working the precum into his tongue. Peter groaned and hugged her close, and his hungry saliva wet both their chins. When he withdrew, he saw that Stella was slowly jerking Lucian’s cock. She stopped and slid her precumslick fingers in Peter’s mouth, then reached down to stroke him off.

“Isn’t it too good?” she whispered as she moved down Peter’s body. “You should try it.”

Lucian looked down on him, his eyes cloudy with desire.“I want to feel your pretty mouth on it,” he said. Peter swallowed hard, and tugged on Stella’s shoulders.

Stella wrapped her lips around his cock, and Peter shivered. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive head of his cock as her hands caressed his balls.

Lucian reached down to stroke himself, and a clear bead of precum gathered at the head of his cock. Peter dared to caress up a muscular thigh. He had sucked cock before, but not out of desire - just necessity. He knew how to make it last long, or make him finish quick, but his heart had never, ever been in it. Stella moaned and sucked noisily at him, but the pleasure seemed far away compared to Lucian’s gaze as he gently pressed the tip of his cock against his parted lips.

“Please,” he said softly. Peter grabbed the base of his cock and slowly took him in his mouth. His musk set off a depth charge of lust deep in his belly, and sweat sheened his body as he sucked only the tip of his cock with soft lips, laving the tender frenulum with every bob of his head. Lucian cried out and spread his legs, and his heels dug into the mattress with pleasure. He felt himself gently led to Lucian’s balls.

“Don’t forget them,” Stella whispered hotly in his ear, and he obeyed happily, licking, then sucking one, then the other. It was utterly delicious to feel Lucian shiver above him as he worked his fist on his salivawet cock to keep it throbbing for what came next.

What came next?

Lucian seemed to read his mind, and he caressed him and pulled him up to kiss him. He shamelessly worked his musk deep into Lucian’s mouth with his tongue, and they rolled around the huge bed, clawing and caressing, as Peter dry humped Lucian’s belly, eager for release.

Lucian rolled on his belly and raised his ass off the bed.

“Come, beautiful. Finish in me.”

“You got lube?” Stella asked from somewhere close. 

“Bedside table. Drawer.” Peter said, and fell on Lucian, kissing and sucking on the pale flesh of his neck and shoulders. Lucian reached around to caress Peter’s slim thighs. The bottle of lube bounced against them and landed on the bed. Peter grabbed it and squeezed it liberally between Lucian’s cheeks as his other hand sought his cock underneath them.

“Don’t be gentle,” Lucian said, his voice hoarse with need.

“I rarely am,” Peter said, and he thrust inside him. They both shivered with the delicious squeeze, and for a few seconds, Peter was still, taking in Lucian’s tight heat. He felt him twitch around his length, and he sank his teeth into his neck and fucked him. Lucian parried each thrust with deep grunts. 

Lucian was delectable. He was the perfect mix of butch and giving, and Peter’s whole body thrummed with desire. It grew and grew, with Lucian’s kisses, and the feel of his muscular movements underneath him, guiding him deeper and deeper into that improbably silky heat. Peter’s fingers raked down Lucian’s hairy chest, and he gently squeezed his erect nipples as he licked the shell of his ear.

“Harder,” Lucian whispered, rolling his hips into Peter’s thrusts. Lucianis cock rubbed fruitlessly against the bed. He didn’t want to stroke himself, and take away from the sensations Peter was giving him. How long had he wanted to feel him, fully, on his own? How many mirrors had he sent to give him a paltry taste of what he craved so completely?

Stella was his lucky charm, he knew it from the start-

Peter whimpered, and his muscles tightened against him.

“Gonna come-” he said, thrusting slow and deep, his leg locked around Lucian’s.

“I want you to come,” Lucian said, raising his head to kiss him.

“Inside?” Peter said, not stopping. He gripped Lucian’s shoulders and rolled his hips into him.

“No. On my cock,” Lucian said. “When you’re ready-”

Peter grunted and withdrew. “Now!” 

Lucian turned around quickly, but the first lashing of come still streaked his hip. Lucian sat up quickly and stroked every last twitch from him, and as Peter’s hot come spurted on him, he became fully hard again. 

Peter’s spent cock was still half hard as Lucian rubbed his come over himself and began to stroke.

“Your cock almost made me come. I’m so close,” Lucian said, gently caressing his balls as he worked his fist over his shaft.

“Let me,” Peter said, taking over, but after a few strokes he fell on the bed and took him in his mouth again, sucking, licking, and sliding two fingers in Lucian’s lubeslippery asshole. He raised his knees high as Peter stroked his shaft expertly and sucked on the head of his cock, his tongue a velvety friction on his frenulum that made him leak precum into Peter’s moaning mouth. 

“Gimme the real thing,” Peter said softly, and massaged Lucian’s prostate as his mouth worked on his cock. He groaned into Lucian’s pulsing flesh. He really wanted it. He wanted to taste his come. It made his throat flutter with a chuckle. He really was game for anything after a few drinks.

Lucian’s breaths were quick, and his hands were on Peter’s face, caressing.

“Almost …” he whimpered. “There. Yes-”

His asshole fluttered, then squeezed around his thrusting fingers as his cock exploded in Peter’s mouth. Peter removed his fingers and sucked him fully in his mouth, bobbing his head on his throbbing shaft and letting his copious come dribble past his lips and into his nest of soft, black hair.

As the crown of Lucian’s cock pulsed against his tongue, he heard Stella’s sharp cries of pleasure from somewhere nearby. 

“Don’t stop!” she said, but he didn’t look to see what she might be doing to elicit such cries. Lucian’s semen was musky, but less salty that his own. It was liquid and plentiful - so plentiful that his pubic hair, and most of his lower belly was slick and sticky before he stopped his gentle lick and suck.

“Peter,” he said softly, and pulled him up for a slow, sticky kiss. They wrapped their arms around each other and kissed until they couldn’t taste each other on their lips, and then for a while longer, until they heard the bathroom door open.

Stella.

Peter opened his eyes, and Lucian smiled broadly at him. His fangs were partially out, but his eyes were playful, and gentle.

“You’re way more delicious in person,” he said, stretching lazily, and sitting up. “Thank you for that.” He held out his hand for Stella when she came back from the bathroom. Even after cleaning up, she still smelled of sex.

“Did you come, pet?” he said, kissing her. She licked at his lips, chasing after him and Peter’s shared taste.

“Hard as you,” she said, and winked. Peter looked from her to Lucian and back, finally suspicious.

Mirror. Mirror.

Peter sat up slowly. “You. You,” he said, pointing at her, then at him. His eyes narrowed. He pinched Lucian, hard. He yipped and slapped him away. And she yowled. High magic. She felt what he felt, and saw what he saw. 

And vice versa.

“You asshole!” Peter said, but he wasn’t displeased. He’d done far worse in his years.

“You’ll forgive me for cheating. I didn’t know whether I’d ever convince you, so…” Lucian shrugged.

“Well, you did. I hope you had fun earlier,” Peter said, referring to him and Stella’s tryst the day before.

“It’s quite intense, being fucked as a woman,” Lucian said pensively. 

“Same, being fucked as a man,” Stella said. “Like the difference between a violin and a cello.”

“You a musician?” Peter asked, genuinely curious. He yawned.

“Was. Mostly hang around his lot nowadays,” she said, poking Lucian’s side. “It’s an adventure.” Lucian kissed her and put his hand over her mouth.

“It’s a treat through her, but I prefer the real deal far better,” Lucian said, looking at Peter.

“Glad you liked it,” Peter said, laying back with a satisfied sigh. “Gimme 20 minutes, and you can get it again.”

Stella giggled and rolled out of bed. “I think I’ll go find something to eat watch TV in the living room.” She walked out, then peeked back in. “Have fun, you two.” She winked and disappeared.

Post Note: If you’re curious about the references to Peter ingesting vampire blood, please see my other Peter Vincent story, Turning Back Time, for the full headcanon.  This tryst happened sometime before the events in the first story.

[wherethewindtakesher]

weeeeee

the biggest thank you to @caws5749 for sending me all 134 questions 🥰

1: Name Lorena

2: Age 20

3: 3 Fears drowning, the ocean, and fishes.

4: 3 things I love my dog, my friends, and mangoes.

5: 4 turns on humor, charisma, telling me how much you want m-, and moaning.

6: 4 turns off being full of themselves, disrespectfulness, afraid to be themselves, and not showing a care about the well being of others.

7: My best friend k, f, and @brownmantwo.

8: Sexual orientation bisexual.

9: My best first date i’ve never been on a date!

10: How tall am I 5′2

11: What do I miss being fucking skinny-

12: What time were I born 10:45 pm!

13: Favorite color red.

14: Do I have a crush uh...

15: Favorite quote “I got STDS they make my coochie itch” SKSKSKDKSDKAD.

16: Favorite place my house.

17: Favorite food rice.

18: Do I use sarcasm 99.9% of my vocabulary is sarcasm.

19: What am I listening to right now “everything I wanted” by billie eilish because ya girl is depressed.

20: First thing I notice in new person how they hold themselves.

21: Shoe size 8 or 8.5 sometimes a 9.

22: Eye color dark brown.

23: Hair color black.

24: Favorite style of clothing baggy clothes or dark bold colors.

25: Ever done a prank call? yea. I use to call those numbers where it takes you to a different number to prank.

27: Meaning behind my URL its not necessarily an interesting story I just came up with it in my head one day.

28: Favorite movie too many to count.

29: Favorite song literally too many.

30: Favorite band three days grace.

31: How I feel right now fucking sad.

32: Someone I love my friends.

33: My current relationship status single.

34: My relationship with my parents its good! but there is a lot I tend to not discuss with them.

35: Favorite holiday halloween!

36: Tattoos and piercing I have I have two tattoos, both on my left arm. my finger tattoo is of a rose and my bicep is a ghost wearing a witch hat! piercing: septum, conch (but it closed) and my two lobes.

37: Tattoos and piercing I want a bunch more of tattoos and I want to get a few more ear piercings.

38: The reason I joined Tumblr to be cool like my older niece.

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other? no we do not. lots of love and respect left in between us.

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? not really.

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? NO BECAUSE @domromanoff and I ARE BASICALLY SISTERS AND THATS INCEST.

42: When did I last hold hands? years ago.

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? 10 minutes to get up from bed and 5 to actually get ready.

44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days? yes I have because I like smooth legs.

45: Where am I right now? my kitchen.

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? no ones because they'll just leave me behind and laugh at my misery. jkjk but my dear friends.

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? L O U D.

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? I do because rent in LA is fucking e x p e n s I v e.

49: Am I excited for anything? to go to bed.

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? I have 2 of them.

51: How often do I wear a fake smile? too often tbh.

52: When was the last time I hugged someone? a few weeks ago I believe?

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? they should because thats their baby momma.

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? yup.

55: What is something I disliked about today? waking up.

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? lady gaga and scarlett johansson.

57: What do I think about most? what tattoo to get, if I should get another dog, how to annoy @caws5749 that day, etc etc.

58: What’s my strangest talent? I can move the bones in my wrist.

59: Do I have any strange phobias? im scared of fish!

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? behind because I am a nervous mess and I like taking control of such.

61: What was the last lie I told? “im okay”

62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? both honestly! I love video chatting with @domromanoff and my friends!

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? yes and yes.

64: Do I believe in magic? hell yea I grew up around all that shit.

65: Do I believe in luck? not really.

66: What’s the weather like right now? its chilly.

67: What was the last book I’ve read? jesus christ I forgot the name but its currently under my bed rn.

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline? YES.

69: Do I have any nicknames? clown, wueej by @caws5749, pi- prin-, bottom by @domromanoff, lore, lorecha, whore, hoe.

70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? I pulled my thigh muscle recently and OMG I WAS IN SO MUCH PAIN.

71: Do I spend money or save it? I SPEND IT HONEY YASSSS.

72: Can I touch my nose with a tongue? sadly no.

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me? my water bottle c:

74: Favorite animal? I fucking love cows.

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? crying lmao.

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is? nikolas is it not??

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? “Judas” by lady gaga.

78: How can you win my heart? just be yourself and believe wholeheartedly of what you want and desire.

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? “madi did it”

80: What is my favorite word? fuck.

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr @caws5749 @domromanoff @dailyavengers @ravenforce andddddd @supercorpbechloe there’s so many more I’m editing this rn AKSJSHSHSHS I love each and everyone’s accounts here!

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? GLOBAL WARMING IS A REAL THING YALL.

83: Do I have any relatives in jail? i think so 👀 but im not close to them.

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? maybe like telekinesis or some mind power.

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? what goes on in your mind?

86: What is my current desktop picture? a winter forest.

87: Had sex? if oral sex counts then sure.

88: Bought condoms? I haven't bought them I just magically obtained them.

89: Gotten pregnant? oh god no.

90: Failed a class? yUUUUP.

91: Kissed a boy? yes.

92: Kissed a girl? yes.

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? back in middle school lmaoooo.

94: Had job? yes im on my second one rn.

95: Left the house without my wallet? all the damn time.

96: Bullied someone on the internet? no because im not a fucking asshole.

97: Had sex in public? not yet.

98: Played on a sports team? yea I was in track n field and cross country!

99: Smoked weed? I haven't but I once wanted to try it but I was to much of a pussy to skip class.

100: Did drugs? nope.

101: Smoked cigarettes? ew no.

102: Drank alcohol? y’all Ive gotten so fucked up on here so of cOURSE. my friends think I have a drinking problem ksjlksdjlkjds.

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? I am not.

104: Been overweight? yea.

105: Been underweight? No.

106: Been to a wedding? I have when I was younger.

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? sadly yes because of video games.

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? yea when I binge watched the walking dead.

109: Been outside my home country? yes!

110: Gotten my heart broken? yeah.

111: Been to a professional sports game? Yes because everyone in LA has possibly been to a dodgers game.

112: Broken a bone? nope!

113: Cut myself? oh man..I have and I deeply regret doing so but its a part of me now and i’ve accepted it.

114: Been to prom? YES! best night of my life.

115: Been in airplane? once and that was it because fuck planes lsjdkjlksdjs.

116: Fly by helicopter? nope!

117: What concerts have I been to? daddy yankee and some other guy I don't remember heheheh.

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? duh im gay.

119: Learned another language? I tried (and failed) to learn japanese.

120: Wore make up? a couple of times. i’m not the hugest fan of makeup.

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18? nope!

122: Had oral sex? once.

123: Dyed my hair? too many times.

124: Voted in a presidential election? no but I will this upcoming one for sure.

125: Rode in an ambulance? no but I want to!

126: Had a surgery? no but I did have to get stitches on my lower lip.

127: Met someone famous? I meant jenni rivera’s brother at a movie theater once!

128: Stalked someone on a social network? yes? but not to a weird extent.

129: Peed outside? only because no one was around to open the door to my apartment complex and I couldn't hold it in-

130: Been fishing? I am T E R R I F I E D of fish so no.

131: Helped with charity? yup! I bought a shirt from one of @markiplier‘s livestreams that donated all the money to a charity.

132: Been rejected by a crush? yea.

133: Broken a mirror? I think maybe once??

134: What do I want for birthday? I want a tattoo.

[julia-iguess]

1-134😏

This could be fun or extremely sad1: Name: julia fogel2: Age: 193: 3 Fears: rejection, death, crabs 🦀 4: 3 things I love: music, my ukulele, my friends and family5: 4 turns on: um, idk i never pay attention 6: 4 turns off: still idk7: My best friend: i got a few8: Sexual orientation: idk prob pan at this point9: My best first date: lmao i literally don't remember 10: How tall am I: like 5'4" i wanna say11: What do I miss: happiness12: What time were I born: 10:02 pm13: Favorite color: black/ pastel yellow14: Do I have a crush:15: Favorite quote:"i just had a change of heart" -the 1975 (i know it's a song lyric but like still a quote)16: Favorite place: i got a few of those too. one the highway, anywhere my friends are, the beach17: Favorite food: sushi18: Do I use sarcasm: HA is that a joke?19: What am I listening to right now: the reeling- passion pit20: First thing I notice in new person: their personality21: Shoe size: 7 1/2 to 822: Eye color: brown23: Hair color: also brown24: Favorite style of clothing: anything i'm comfortable in tbh25: Ever done a prank call?: not that i can remember 27: Meaning behind my URL: idk one day i just came up with it28: Favorite movie: guardians of the galaxy29: Favorite song: so many idk30: Favorite band: the 197531: How I feel right now: neutral32: Someone I love: my mom33: My current relationship status: single34: My relationship with my parents: mom is rlly good, i don't speak to my sperm donor, and my step dad is rad35: Favorite holiday: halloween 36: Tattoos and piercing i have: piercings: ears, nose, belly button tattoos: one on my arm of planets37: Tattoos and piercing i want: tattoos: literally all of them piercings: after what i have prob more on my ear, and maybe nipples idk38: The reason I joined Tumblr: i was told to39: Do I and my last ex hate each other?: nope40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?: all the time41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?: nope42: When did I last hold hands?: two weeks ago43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?: like 10 minutes44: Have I shaved your legs in the past three days?: no45: Where am I right now?: in my kitchen46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?: my mom bc i'm a baby47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?: always loud af48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?: my mom and step* dad49: Am I excited for anything?: a baseball game in august50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?: yessss51: How often do I wear a fake smile?: all day erryday52: When was the last time I hugged someone?: last night 53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?: it depends lmao54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?: yesssss55: What is something I disliked about today?: i didn't get to eat until after work56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? mozart57: What do I think about most?: something music related58: What’s my strangest talent?: i give rlly good massages, like to the point that the person is so relaxed they fall asleep59: Do I have any strange phobias?: crabs lmao60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?: depends61: What was the last lie I told?: yeah i'm good don't worry about me62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?: video chatting 63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?: yes and yes 64: Do I believe in magic?: kinda65: Do I believe in luck?: hell yes66: What's the weather like right now?: hot af67: What was the last book I've read?: one flew over the cuckoos nest68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?: yes69: Do I have any nicknames?: ju, juju, sissy, jay, bookworm 70: What was the worst injury I've ever had?: i broke my toe. other than that spraining my ankle 71: Do I spend money or save it?: spend72: Can I touch my nose with a tongue?: nope73: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me?: there's pink on my shorts74: Favorite animal?: turtle/ meerkat75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM?: sleepin76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?: fogel😈77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?: anything by sia 78: How can you win my heart?: buy me things79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone?: i wasn't ready80: What is my favorite word?: fuck81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr: idek 82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?: fuck her right in the pussy, idk😂😂😂83: Do I have any relatives in jail?: not rn but a few of them have been 84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?: invisibility 85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on?: ah there's a lot of those86: What is my current desktop picture?: a pic of the ocean87: Had sex?: yup88: Bought condoms?: no89: Gotten pregnant?: thank god no90: Failed a class?: so many91: Kissed a boy?: yes92: Kissed a girl?: yes93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?: not yet94: Had job?: yup95: Left the house without my wallet?: yes96: Bullied someone on the internet?: not that i can remember 97: Had sex in public?: no98: Played on a sports team?: nope99: Smoked weed?: once100: Did drugs?: if you consider weed a drug then yes once101: Smoked cigarettes?: no102: Drank alcohol?: yes103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?: nope104: Been overweight?: i am rn105: Been underweight?: no106: Been to a wedding?: yes107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight?: yup108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?: yup109: Been outside my home country?: yes110: Gotten my heart broken?: yes111: Been to a professional sports game?: not yet but i will in august112: Broken a bone?: yeah113: Cut myself?: yes114: Been to prom?: yeah115: Been in airplane?: yes many116: Fly by helicopter?: no117: What concerts have I been to?: austin mahone, one direction, jason derulo118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?: yeah119: Learned another language?: kinda120: Wore make up?: erryday121: Lost my virginity before I was 18?: yeah122: Had oral sex?: yeah123: Dyed my hair?: yes124: Voted in a presidential election?: yes125: Rode in an ambulance?: no126: Had a surgery?: yes127: Met someone famous?: not that i remember 128: Stalked someone on a social network?: yup 129: Peed outside?: yeah130: Been fishing?: yeah131: Helped with charity?: i think 132: Been rejected by a crush?: yeah133: Broken a mirror?: yeah134: What do I want for birthday?: a big booty hoe

[entoman-created-by-the-tallgreys]

Life

( Do NOT Reblog this post ) 

There Nothing you or i can do - and Also - as thay get rid of the bible thay import a new one thay got a Power grip So Fucking Strong on this earth either we or the alien's that are of this place are going to Need ion cannon's and anti matter in order to Remove there presence from this Earth it going to take that kinda of weaponry

and flood the under ground Passage with Acid - Radioactive Acid - ... you See there power grip here is insane i Can't Even Understand Why i am here my life is Meaning-less All these human's are happy and i am Like a Slave -  i can't leave, i can't go in to the spirit world with out getting Replanted on the earth So some psycho fucker in the shadow's Gov, Go's on the attack and red alert aka A threat o there power or there Control - and you get the Gist - 

It's, madness and for all the Asshole's out there that don't Believe me that star seed's where harvested and then forced here like Slave's, you'll see some day that the gray's are the real devil 

Not Some Red Drake, with a Holy Bond to the element fire - So, What !? we live are live's in the flesh till we get re-Harvested, the Asshole's in the back Ground can't make up there mind's as the alien can't understand why the star seed's keep dying -

And . . . The world get's ever Shitter, and life in the Greater Whole rot's away - as there a Bitching pissed of fairy's aka mantis bitching away that there agenda is dying so what, thay abuse more and more spirit's that don't want to be born and where Happy dead the very thing the nwo want's to do to you make you dead !?? 

Odd !? the nwo want's you dead the and the gray's want To Alive the fae are arguing over life and death and the Nwo Asshole's just want to Kill everybody - and we ... the peasant - we are just a bag in a tornado of the gray's and the Pyramid People 

A Little plastic bag flowing around in the chaos of these 2 super titan's - No, seriously we are -

Most star Seed's are Not insane there not Going to fucking, Bla bla about being an Alien there not retarded thay can see the supreme Danger and there not pussy's there a reason why thay hide - in plane sight -

So ... what -?  .... We live pointless alienating live's on a world we don't want to be with/in and soul’s we don't want to be with either and ever in a time zone we all hate to what just die ... and be forced back around - ??? To this fucking Alien dark age, you know star Seed's are NOT human, it's a hybrid to look like a human

There not not not and i mean all out NOT human's - 

it's ok not every thin has to belong to one race - the universe wasn't created for just human's aka primate's and none of them wanted to be here, thay where scooped up, kid napped, and harvested from the spirit realm soul's that didn't want anything to do with life -

The one that say thay choose to be here are cultist, and or Shill's in Shor there Full of Shit -  or there Confused ... thay bin lied to keep in mind it's not just one race is a mass of mixed Race's - all forced here to Be part of  A Nwo thay didn't even want to be born - i think the reason there where so many of them and how highly mixed is more proof the gray's where Planning a Nwo fairyland - the mantis always create fairy land - it's the expression Of there soul's -

and thay always love to worship nature - ... not the point the gray's fucked up and thay Ended up sending the star seed's to hell ... that rained the star seed's into circle 9 and the deep state .... got there toxic Hand’s All over them

there More Toxic then a muk muk's  and there all over them and this fucking thing - the image below is just a metaphor 

i honestly can't Understand why in the fuck i am here - ??? the gray's ... are the reason behind all of this - and thay didn't tell any one the reason i swear that thay only said you had a mission and then i Solemnly swear never filled in the Blank - there was a brief pause then then ... Warp thay just acted like thay where stunned - ??? 

[tracelii]

I PUT A SIIIIGN ON MY RAAAGE AND ENGAAAGE IN ANGER MANAGEMENT

(Takes place right after this one)

“STOP!”

He had never heard himself like that. Jack was a very loud guy, but only when he was happy, only when he was excited, maybe when he was getting salty over a video game. He never had to be this loud, out of anger. He never thought he could be, but he was, and he could feel it in his throat that at this point he could easily yell until it was raw, and it definitely wouldn’t take much.

He watched Traci crumple in place, after fear and worry crossed her face in response to his outburst. She just… stopped, covering her head and murmuring frantic apologies.

Ellie swung, weakling hitting Traci’s back, but by time Jack had grabbed her again, and gently pulled her away, she had spent all of her energy and most of her anger, but something mindless kept her going. He turned her towards him, and she still struggled, and angry tears dotted her face.

“I don’t want to need him!” Ellie shrieked at… him? At nothing. She just continued to swing her arms. She weakly smacked at him, more and more tears spilling down his face. “I don’t have a choice! I can’t stop I CANT STOP STOP IT STOP IT!” She pulled at her hair before she fully broke down crying. He let her turned away, but still held her hands, forcefully keeping her in place, and keeping her from doing damage to him, to Traci, or to himself. She twisted her body weakly, her mouth falling open, her head falling back, and cried out again.

It was truly a sight to behold, maybe not in the best kind of meaning, to walk in on this train wreck.

Elsa walked to the door first, opening it gently and walking in and holding it open for Ian to come in right after her. The sight before them was a mess, to put it lightly. Several desks had been misplaced and moved out of the way in the short battle that had ensued, and there was tiny smears of blood on some of the bright wood panels of the floor and at least one chair.

Curled up on the floor was Traci, her face hidden away, her headband tangled in her now-messy hair. She wore no jacket, and her yellow school vest was revealed to be unintentionally worn inside out. One of her shoes were missing, and when she raised her head for a peek at the newcomers, she had at least two welts on her face from being scratched and a busted lip. She sniffed, uncertainly, and only after a second, had hidden her face once again.

Ellie was pulling gently on her arms, her noises and cries reduced to whimpers and moans of pain and discomfort. She was digging her hand into her palm so hard, blood was almost certain to follow. Her long dark hair was a mess as well, and a few buttons of her white dress shirt was missing, and half her collar was out of place. She had bruises on her exposed, pale skin, mostly her arms and one right underneath her left eye. She had stopped fighting Jack, but sunk to her knees, giving up to the struggle of freeing her arms from Jack’s grip. He looked up in great relief as Ian only crossed his arms in disapproval, and Elsa could only shake her head. Besides the shaky breaths of the two that had fought, the room was silent.

Jack watched Ellie closely as he finally let go of her wrists. She let her arms lower slowly (they probably hurt), and finally wiped the blood trailing from over her eyebrow and started leaking down the side of her face. She looked down at her bloody hand and… and it took whatever strength she had left. She lowered her hands enough to cross her arms hold them in sort of a self-hug, and just blankly looked at the ground. She was tired. She was exhausted.

“Okay, so…” Elsa said gently, as if she thought speaking too loud would set everyone off. “I guess… Traci still hates me, so I’ll help Ellie, Ian, you can help Traci and… Jack, if this is over you, we probably can’t have you helping one and not the other, so you can help put the class back together.

“No.”

Elsa was looking down at the two poor friends of hers on the ground, but the word brought her attention to the speaker, her face twisting in confusion. “… No?”

“No, I’m not going to do it.”

“What the fuck.” Jack had his hand on the first desk, ready to move it back. “What do you mean no.”

“It means no.” Ian said. “As in no. As in, not me. As in. fucking. No.”

There was a weird silence in the room. The tension had returned.

“They’re my friends- they’re your friends.”

“Yea, they certainly used to be.” Ian shot back without missing even a single step. The irritation on his face grew. He hadn’t uncrossed his arms since he was forced to tell the entire hidden block club that whatever the hell Traci did at lunch was just a one time thing. That it was just stress. That she was fine.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t even close to fine.

“They’re still your fucking friends.” Jack crossed the room in just a few strides, stepping right up to Ian, who was, though slouching, still taller than him. “You know they can’t control this, and I can’t believe you’d just abandon them when they need you.”

“Need me to do what. Cover for them? Cover for you?” Ian now stood up purposefully to stand even taller over Jack- he had the green boy beat by almost half a foot. “Lie to all of my friends, and their friends and tell them everything is alright? Tell me, Sean, what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to help?” His tone was completely unforgiving.

“I don’t know, by at least pretending to give a shit.” Jack clenched his fists. The hot feeling in his chest returned with a vengeance.

“You guys-“ Elsa said, stepping back to give them room, but not willing to except calling it quits here and now.

“No.” Ian said again. “I’m fucking tired of this. This radioactive piece of shit just waltzed in here, dragging whatever the fuck anti is with him, and now hes here, bothering all of us, and destroying their lives” He gestured angrily at the two girls on the floor. “And now I have to drag you into the void, where I also have to babysit you because you don’t listen to a damn thing I say to keep you fucking safe. And I have to lie to everyone around me. I don’t know what I’m doing- you guys don’t know what you’re doing, but we’re just going to come in here and fucking pretend they didn’t just try to murder each other?!” He had been addressing Elsa, who took the stabbing words with a jolt of surprise, before looking away stubbornly.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Jack’s voice was now raising, completely unyielding to Ian’s scathing blame. “But I know what it is now is that if we leave them alone now, it’s gonna be a lot worse than a fight, than a bruise and a couple of scratches. You know it, and I know it, but if you’re going to be a pussy about it, then fucking leave.”

Ian thrusted a finger into jack’s chest. “What. The fuck. Can any of us. Do. To fix. Your. Problem?”

Jack knocked his hand away, shoving Ian once. “Don’t fucking touch me- don’t act like you’re some helpless prick. If you’re going to leave now, just do it. Just get the hell out here, and don’t pretend you even gave a shit about Ellie or Traci for even a second.”

Ian shoved him back, and they both got close- powerful glares sending sparks between them. One kept waiting for the other. It would just take one punch. One punch, and it was all going down, here and now.

“Listen, you’re both assholes.” Elsa said. She pushed between them somehow just to continue walking towards the teacher’s desk, where she pulled out the first aid kit. “And this sucks. And they’re in danger. And we’re in danger, but unlike them, we can still do something about it, so lets do something about it. It matters, whatever we do.” Her face was sour. “It matters.” She held up the kit. “So pick, Ian. If you leave, we wont bother you. But if you’re staying, get over here and help this annoying asshole look after her friends. Jack doesn’t have a choice whether be involved or not, but you do, so just fucking pick. Either way, its not worth another fight.”

Ian didn’t move right away, and he didn’t move from his spot, and his eyes kept drifting towards the door. He walked past Jack, roughly shoving past him to head for Elsa. “I’m not doing this for either one of you.” He said bitterly. “I just want my friends back.”

“That’s all I can ask.” Elsa said, handing him the box. “But also- same.” She had some supplies in her hands, but turned to Ellie, who had gotten to her feet, to Elsa’s surprise.

“El?” She asked, but Ellie was quick on her heels, running out past both Ian and Jack quickly, her head bowed, walking in a quick, but calm paced. She sniffed, her shoes clicking at the ground, and immediately left the room.

“I should go after her.” Jack said awkwardly. He talking to Elsa, who only gave him a worried look, but then his glance passed to Ian who was now sitting on the floor, sitting Traci to sit up and started to get a good look at her bloody lip. Traci’s eyes flickered up to meet with his.

“but…” her lips parted for that one word, and she struggled for the next. “Was he here…? That was him, right? Who said ‘stop’. Did he hear me? Can I talk to him again?”

Now Ian’s eyes were also on him- all three pairs of eyes were on him. “No- that wasn’t him--- I… I was just got angry.” She couldn’t tell the difference? He watched her face fall again.

“I still have to apologize, and… and you promised you would let me see him.”

“I’m sorry, you promised her?” Ian’s words, his look switching from neutral hatred to incredulous.

“You saw what happened in the cafeteria!” He said quickly. “I had to tell her something just to get her to her feet!”

All Ian did was toss his hands in the air, then finished cleaning Traci’s bloody chin.

“Hey, maybe we can… I don’t know.” Elsa looked back and forth between the two boys, a curious hint in her hazel eyes. “Let her speak to Anti.”

“Huh?” Jack asked, his eyebrows furrowed. “I mean, at this point, I honestly would, if I knew how to-“

“Ahem. Ahem.”Elsa raised both of her eyebrows. Ian caught on right before Jack did.

“That sounds like a fuckin’ bad idea if I’d ever heard one.” Jack said quickly, and he watched Ian’s eyes do the most impressive roll of the century. They agreed on something.

“Please.” She winced as she earned another bandaid on the back of her hand, but looked up at Jack as if he was about to gift her with the sun after 40 days of clouds.

Jack grimaced, giving Elsa one more unsure side-glance, before giving a hesitant nod of his head. “Okay.”

“Oh!” Traci scooted up, pushing at Ian for him to scoot over, even as he tried to check her for any more cuts. She tried to adjust herself, push down her skirt and hair, fix her inside-out vest, and waited patiently. Her breathing was still a little uneven, and even she knew she looked like shit, but she tried to make it work anyway. She sat back on her knees, and waited.

Jack felt hot under the collar, nervous as hell, and anxious enough to cover the student body for at least a week. He took an uncertain breath before sighing out, and closing his eyes. After another sigh, he opened them again. No one had moved.

“H… Hello, Traci.” He tried. He watched her face carefully, and the way she tilted her head in question didn’t give him much more confidence. “I’m here. It’s me. Uhm… Anti.”

Ian’s sigh of disgust almost did him in. He looked to Elsa for help, worry starting to paint his features. This wouldn’t work. It certainly wouldn’t. Elsa gestured to him again, and before long, Ian was standing next to her, his arms crossed, as always.

How the hell was he supposed to know what Anti was like? He had never met the guy. He knew he was an asshole- from what he heard, probably kind of full of himself… according to Traci, he tended to get angry? Uhhh… Probably acted like he was in charge?

“Try again.” Elsa said softly. “We can get her to cooperate.”

That seemed to be a good motivation. If he pretended to… be Anti, or whoever, that could be good, somehow. As much as he didn’t want to bully anyone around, he could actually get her to start taking care of herself again, and maybe eventually gain a little bit of her happiness and independence back. He could this for her well being.

He took another deep breath. Be mean. You have to be mean. Get angry again.

“Traci.”

She sat up straight, startled out of her stupor. Her eyes searched his face, and a tear spilled down her cheek as her hands curled up in her lap. “Yes?”

“Is there something you wanted to say?”

“Do you think she really believes that it’s him?” Ian asked, leaning towards Elsa. His arms were still crossed so tightly it seemed he shouldn’t have had any circulation. He was still pissed, but he was still helping, at the very least. To be honest, if he would have killed his involvement here and now, she literally didn’t know what she’d do without him, besides go back to the rough nightmares.

“Huh?” She watched Traci sit at absolute attention, taking in every ounce of… ‘Anti’ before her. Her hands curled in tighter, and she leaned forward. A shaky, hopeful smile pulled at her lips, and tears welled up in her eyes. The desperation. The utmost attention. Elsa absently rubbed at her wrist wrap absently, trying out her soreness and mobility before disappointment filled her features. She had definitely seen this ‘side’ of Traci before- this false happiness she only got around him…

Anti.

Elsa knew it was Jack there, probably feeling horrific as Traci all but groveled at his feet for forgiveness, but there was no mistaking it.

“Yea.” Elsa said slow and thoughtful, but she could feel the familiar bile rising in the back at her throat, seeing her friend like this, once again. “She believes that’s him.”

[captainignatiuspigheart]

Last week was very short as I managed to squeeze two days off into it. These have largely been spent outside in my garden office sorting and tidying LEGO. It’s very time consuming and satisfying, but does leave me slightly wondering where the time has gone. With a very warm and sunny Friday and Saturday I moved my watching of Agents of SHIELD outside along with dismantling and washing the LEGO Detective’s Office set. It’s a lovely little thing, but it had become very grubby. I’m now trying to rebuild it with a tray overflowing with parts. Inevitably, it’s becoming a quicker process the more of it I’ve built. Feels kinda exponential, as if by the end it will be assembling itself… Marilyn and I have also finally begun a shared build, the LEGO Brick Bank, which has been languishing on my “to be built” shelf for some years now… It’s pretty ace, and is a fine accompaniment to season two of Elementary.  

A busy day…

Brick Bank ground floor

  In dismantling the Detective’s Office, I re-remembered that I’d built a little half-modular some years ago, but they’ve been joined together for so long I’d somewhat forgotten that it wasn’t part of the set. I snapped a few pics from it before I dismantled it, for posterity, or whatever. The concept was a coffee shop on the ground floor and a bottle shop above. I’d do almost all of it differently now, of course, but I think it did look pretty good. I was very happy to use the Indiana Jones poster tiles to good effect!

On the right is an impostor

Never finished the roof…

Good banister though

Indy!

Booze

Coffee shop action

Alcove!

We’ve started to enjoy strolling around Beeston late at night. I adore the peace and quiet (I’ve been watching bats in our garden!) and I’m in urgent need of more exercise. I’m looking at you, beer… We’ve met up with a couple of our pussy cats pals too, which has been especially lovely. Given the utter clusterfuck of Bojo’s latest update on the UK’s progress with coronavirus, I suspect I’ll be working from home, getting fat, and taking late night walks for some weeks yet.

Hopper’s Beeston

Foxy Loxy

Despite the week’s brevity, I seem to have taken part in two podcast recordings and read some books! Victory all round. 

Watching: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D season 3

Fuck me, I love this show more and more. We’re finally getting into the stuff I remember a little better. It’s getting so hard to summarise… I guess this season is properly focused on the fallout of the Inhuman explosion and on the truly epic and dark history of Hydra! First we have to recover Agent Simmons from the creepy monolith that whisked her away from Fitz’s arms at the end of season two. Turns out its part of an ancient Hydra tradition, who’ve been feeding the terrifying alien entity within on fresh young Hydra enthusiasts for centuries. Their ultimate aim is to unleash the monster on the world! The team do manage to rescue Simmons, but doing so reveals to Hydra that the doorway can indeed be bridged. There are some pretty tense moments, and Daisy/Skye gets to assemble her own team of Secret Warriors, comprised of some of the Inhumans now emerging. The first half of the season focuses on Hydra getting into the alien planet, with former agent Ward becoming the host of the Inhuman ancestor. That’s bad news for everyone… and gives us the second half, in which Ward sets about subsuming other Inhumans and advancing a plan to dominate the whole world. Bad guys with big plans! Mostly though, my heart continues to beat for FitzSimmons, and for Coulson and Agent Mae. Honestly, it’s hard to make any sense of this season if you haven’t seen the previous two, but if you have it really is a gift: long form deepening of relationships, expanding on the major MCU story threads from Civil War, and getting into the backstory of Hydra to a massive extent.

  Doing: The Improv Boost “Happiness” podcast

All round lovely fella, David Escobedo, one of our It’s A Trap: The Improvised Star Wars Show cast members, and rabid user of social media for promoting improv in all its forms, invited me to join him and a few friends for a very short podcast talking about things we feel passionate about. The challenge was to narrow it down to a specific thing to expostulate on for eight minutes. LEGO would be too broad, as would Star Wars, so it sent me down a little rabbit hole of figuring out what I do especially enjoy, rather than the general everything of science fiction and stuff. One of my gateways into SF, or at least one that has cast a lengthy shadow, is the work of the great John Wyndham. Picking The Day of the Triffids was an easy next step. That’s why I read both the abridged US edition then the UK/Penguin edition in a week. The latter is about 10% longer, and just has a little more depth. It’s startlingly apt for our current situation, and I’d recommend it for anyone who finds reassurance in someone else’s words managing to neatly sum up existential and ethical crises. Also, triffids are ace, and plainly the ancestor of all zombie fiction. 

Alas, whatever software David was using to stream Zoom into Facebook fucked us over and we lost the last five minutes. Which means you get all of Jac’s enthusing about calculus (whatever the hell that is… :-} ) but lose Vanessa’s final thoughts on our topics which neatly wedded our themes together. Essentially (I think) we’re both talking about aspects of community and how people deal with the situations they find themselves in. Enjoy!



Reading: The Chrysalids by John Wyndham

Having cheerfully chugged down a double dose of The Day of the Triffids I moved straight on to what’s generally regarded as his “best” novel. It’s not my most favourite, but it’s quite a read. Far future post-apocalypse, humanity is struggling to rebuild itself after what appears to be nuclear catastrophe with radioactive fallout causing widespread genetic mutation. As a result, a renewed fervour for purity and the importance of the human (and all other creatures and crops) matching the design laid down by God / government. The consequences of deviation from the norm are severe: death, destruction, banishment to the badlands. None of it’s very appealing.

Our viewpoint is David, a perfectly normal boy: somewhat lazy, chafing a little under the religious intensity of his father and the demands of being in a small farming community in the newly reclaimed lands of Labrador. Only… he’s telepathic, and that makes him a very serious deviation indeed. In the novel we find a lot more of the social awareness and interest in community and individualism that Wyndham show’s in all of his work, and it’s very thought-provoking while being beguiling easy reading. It’s quite a neat trick to cover abominations and socially-mandated murder with such a breezy and familiar writing style. Ultimately, of course, David and his friends have to go on the run from their peers and family. When his younger sister, Petra, who turns out to be an incredibly powerful telepath makes contact with someone in “Zealand”, the whole of David’s world (and ours, since he’s our only view of it) is turned upside down. Moments of bleakness and fear fight with equally delightful epiphanies and hope for true acceptance. It’s great! Read it! 

Doing: We Are What We Overcome podcast Special Episode #3 Self Care

Our fortnightly Facebook Live podcast recordings continue to catch me unawares! Mondays are not a good evening for me to have my brain in gear, but I’m trying. Last week we talked about self-care some more. It’s really important to look after yourself at the moment. Divorced of much meaningful in-person human contact, I think we’re all fraying away at the edges. We talked about some of the things that frustrate the act of self-care, and some of the tools we use to keep ourselves as sorted as we can be.

Doing: MissImp’s Virtual Improv Drop-In: Duncan Carty – Artist’s Eye for the Improv Guy

This week we got a really special and different take on improvisation and creativity from our Duncan Carty, combining artistic expression, y’know, like drawing, with how we take inspiration for our scenes and performances. It’s a very good workshop, and I implore you to get out your crayons and walls and go at it. Phew, that’s the eighth improv workshop Emily has wrangled onto our website, and it looks we’re gonna be providing them for the foreseeable future. Enjoy!  

Last Week: Sunday 10 May 2020: lots more LEGO, John Wyndham, two podcasts and general bumbling around… podcast fun with We Are What We Overcome and @improvboost talking about Day of the Triffids! #tv #podcast #improv #books https://wp.me/pbprdx-8Ed Last week was very short as I managed to squeeze two days off into it. These have largely been spent outside in my garden office sorting and tidying LEGO.

[ecotone99]

[SF] Panopticon

Twenty-three hundred days in hell is exactly what you’d think. Well, unless you anticipated screaming, and praying, and begging, and wailing and gnashing of teeth no…hell is nothing like the Old Testament. Hell is an eight-foot-tall, six-by-six cell. Three walls and a ceiling, all made of concrete. That fourth wall however, now I’m betting you anticipate “bars,” right? Seeing as I’ve described hell as a cell? Well here I am to burst your bubble ‘cause hell isn’t a cell per se. The fourth wall is just…open. Completely open to a four-story drop for me, even higher for the boys above me. And if you were to drop, you’d land and shatter your fucking femurs for one, but you’d land on the sandy bottom of a tall, dark, enclosed, circular building in the middle of goddamn nowhere.

The floor of this place is about the size of a football field in all directions and in its center…in its heart. Is the Panopticon. I can still remember the metallic voice over the unseen speakers as we each awoke, drugged, in our cells. It started off with a factoid. The man who first proposed the idea of the Panopticon described it as “A mill for grinding rogues honest.” We were to be the, “First ever maximum-security inmates to be housed within the ULTIMATE STRUCTURE OF SURVEILLANCE!” Like we were supposed to be goddamn excited for it. Like they were selling us something that we should be chomping at the bit to buy.

360-degree view from the tower in the center with about 150 open cells surrounding. No human face though, scowling out at us from behind it’s dark, cold plexi-glass. No human faces EVER. See that was really the thing about hell. I hadn’t seen another human face since the moment that screeching, tinny, robotic voice woke me up to tell me what I’d won, twenty-three hundred days and counting, in hell. The point of the “open cell concept” as I like to call it, is this, we all assume we could be the one being monitored at any given time so now, we self-discipline. No need for bars when we’re met with a bone crushing fall and motion-activated machine guns mounted on every curve of that tower. No sir-e. We’ll be the good little boys our mechanical overlords know we’ll be, because we have no other fucking choice.

Now how can a maximum-security prison operate without any human beings? Much like most things in this brave new, robotic world. Our three-square meals a day are delivered to us through a perfectly fucking sealed square hole in the wall and I know that it’s being delivered on a conveyor belt, assembled and maintained by machines because for the past 6 months my meals have been coming to me with the exact same mistakes, day-in-and day-out. If that doesn’t sound like a malfunctioning robot, electronic, or machine to you than you haven’t spent a lot of time depending on one. My breakfasts used to be nice and portioned off on the tray. The scrambled eggs had their square, the toast had his, and my orange slices had theirs. Now every single morning the eggs are no longer scrambled, they’re runny as hell and I hate runny. But what’s more is my orange slices are placed right in the center of that disgusting, thick soup o’ eggs. Like two orange, radioactive islands floating within a sea of yellow shit. And my dinners no longer include any meat, just the gravy for the meat. So, I’m just getting potatoes and steamed veggies every night for the past 6 months with nothing but the idea of meat.

It used to be that once a month a palm-sized touch pad would come through the food slot and you could make selections on any malfunctions or problems you’d been experiencing under certain categories and then back through the slot it would go and within a day or so the problem would be resolved. So, once upon a time I could rectify these mistakes or at least be given the illusion of having a voice. But I haven’t seen a touch pad come through the wall in well over 3 years and I don’t expect I’ll be seeing one ever again. I mean my lunch no longer even comes at all but from the feedback I’ve gotten from the fine gentlemen around me, everybody’s lunch stopped coming about 2 years ago so a certain programed protocol has obviously kicked in. What we all want to know is what it means…

Here’s what I think it means. The people running this place, the human beings meant to give mind to this machine of hell, are all gone. Something very, very bad happened out there in the world and we’re in here completely unsupervised, by man. But now we’re so dangerously supervised by the machines that this really is a hell, and we’ll all spending eternity in this place as more parts and pieces of it fall apart with no human beings coming to put it all back together again, and call the devil back to bed. Plus, the water has started to taste a little like battery acid.

We figured out I want to say two-and-a-half years ago that we could call out to one another and have conversations without anything happening. The first guy to finally shriek out into the abyss was Bluie my neighbor. He’s a totally innocent man and one night right as I was finally beginning to drift off into my version of sleep, I hear the first human voice I’d heard since before my incarceration. It was Bluie. And Bluie yells out,

“Aye, aye RoboCops! Why ain’t ya tuck us in no more!?”

The silence that followed…whew! Could have heard the drip, drip, drip of a robot taking a gasoline piss a football field away. But then…nothing happened. I mean absolutely nothing happened for one minute, then two minutes, then seven. In the hour that followed the event that I’ve so affectionately named, “Bluie’s First Contact” it was truly as if we were in hell, yet this time, we were the demons. The screaming and shrieking, swearing and cursing, the absolute thunderous, bellowing shouts of rage and sound that erupted from all 150 inmates after Bluie’s First Contact was the most hell-ish thing I had ever known. Myself, I just yelled every horrible thing I had ever heard or thought of throughout the entire course of my life until I tasted blood in the back of my throat and no longer had any voice to speak with.

But this ushered in great change. There were conversations for a few weeks. Men confessing, mostly men declaring innocence. Men sharing jokes, men telling stories of all the best and all the worst pussy they’d had before waking up in this place. We were a tribe. But with so many conversations happening all at once we couldn’t keep track of the fractures. The fissures, the silences. And soon there were indecipherable clicks with the tongue, and combinations of words which meant nothing. High and low shouts which gave away no inflection or intention. We all developed our own secret language to communicate with the men we really trusted. We’re split now, divided. Sound is all we have so we use it as secret forms of communication. The acoustics are fantastic in our Panopticon and so each level has developed their own secret means of communication so no other level can understand them. The highest level of cells, near the ceiling are rumored to still be receiving lunch, spring water to drink, and meat with dinner so of course it goes without saying that every level hates them. The bottom level, my level is rumored to have successfully gotten some of our boys out—escape. I know this is bullshit because several months back another guy, real quiet guy likes us to call him G, kicked his pillow right out the opening in his cell. You may have wondered how I knew the machine guns mounted on the Panopticon were motion-sensitive? At least three machine guns locked onto it and shot it as it was falling through the air, and completely eviscerated it once it hit ground. So began the escape rumors. We also know that if we come to close to the opening of our cells the machine guns lock onto us and follow our every move until we step back far enough. Once, I daggled a piece of cloth over the side and a machine gun fired and nearly blew my fucking hand off.

What I’ve been trying to get my guys on this level to understand, is that there aren’t enough machine guns to handle all of us. If only we conducted more “experiments” really figured out the way they work, even if just one of us could escape that one could go find out what happened to the world. Bring help. But Bluie says this is part of the Panopticon. This is how we’re meant to be kept here, in hell.

“Men built this,” he said, “men want this.”

G thinks what I’m suggesting involves sacrificing one of “ours”. Even if we got the rest of the 147 inmates in on it everyone would scream the same thing:

“The cocksuckers on the bottom have the lowest fall! They should be the ones to distract the guns while others try an escape!”

I think G is probably right. But no one has spoken a real, human sentence in so long, I don’t intend to be the first to break the “silence” and find out. But what I haven’t told you, or told anyone for that matter, is that I’ve been pissing blood for the last 4 months. I got to get up and take a piss at least 12 times a night. I knew I was terminal before they condemned me to wake up here, but I think I must be getting to the end. Yesterday morning I woke up to blood in my underwear, which is new. Bluie’s also changed, he talks about God a lot now and what he’ll do in the Kingdom of Heaven when he finally goes “home.” G hasn’t spoken to us in over a week. I think he may be dead but it’s real hard to cut through the smell of myself and 149 other poorly washed prisoners to detect the scent of death. Plus, I never really knew what cell was his anyway, it’s not like I can crane my neck out with a, “Yooohoooo! Still alive in there?!” and find out. I wonder how hard it would be to convince Bluie to let his body drop to that warm, sandy floor…let him get on “home” then. Or me, what about me? Smear myself in my own dirty blood and go screaming over the side the same way I screamed my lungs out a few short years ago when I knew for certain that this, this was hell, this was going to be the place in which I became a demon. This mill has finally ground me down. I am a demon of the Panopticon.

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[chunmakowski3-blog]

mature crossdresser porn pics - Mature Cameltoe Galleries Help!

To me the hottest stories on this subreddit are the ones that seem like real accounts of real sex, especially if it’s secret or deviant in some way. So I’m going to tell the straight, screwed-up truth in this story. I’ve been messing around with an older Hispanic woman named Paula for about 15 years. She’s 48 and I’m 41. So this started when she was 33. She’s a quiet, conservative, "good girl" who’s been divorced since her late twenties. She’s petite, about 5 foot, very slender with small breasts. She has jet-black hair and a slender nose. She looks sort of Mayan. Paula is Jekyll and Hyde, sexually speaking. She’s basically a prude—she says sex hardly ever crosses her mind. She says masturbating is gross, and claims never to have touched herself. She told me once, with her Spanish accent, "I am like a guitar; I only make a sound if someone touches me." In our first encounter, it was more like an electric guitar with the volume turned up. We live in the US Southwest, and I met her when I was in grad school. I’m an average-looking white guy in decent shape. I had to volunteer at this medical clinic where she worked, in order to try to learn Spanish. Paula is quiet and shy, with a heavy accent. Somehow she’s the one they paired me up with for the volunteering. Over several weeks in the summer of 2001, we ended up getting to know each other pretty well, and I’d say there was some mild sexual tension. We had to drive some pretty long distances together, in order to check on various groups of agricultural workers that the clinic served. After one of these trips, we arrived back to the clinic after it had closed and all the employees were gone. Paula had to get some bags of medications, and I followed her down the hall to this makeshift medical storage room, which was really just a converted office with desk, chair, shelves etc. Since it was the middle of the Southwestern summer, she was wearing a yellow tank top. She had a black bra underneath, which kept peeking out all day, and I had been trying not to stare too obviously. As I was standing in the doorway, she was gathering medication from a bottom shelf right near the door. I could see down her shirt almost to her belly button. She suddenly looked up and totally caught me staring. When she stood up she had a little disapproving smile on her face, as if to say, "You’re a bad boy." Right away I could feel the tension between us escalate. If you have any inquiries relating to where and how you can use glamor milf, you could contact us at the web-page. We were the only ones in the office, and we were standing six inches apart. I reached out and put my hand on her hip and suddenly her smile went away and her face got super serious. We leaned toward each other and started kissing. This was not a tentative first-date kiss. This was not a "let’s make out" kiss. I knew within five seconds that this was a "fuck me" kiss. This petite conservative woman had somehow flipped a switch inside. She went from 0 to 60 in seconds. She had one hand around my neck and the other on the front of my khaki shorts. I put my hand up inside her shirt, under her bra and palmed her entire breast. When I started playing with her nipple, she stopped kissing me and looked me dead in the eyes with a look of absolute lust. Then she reached down and pulled up her shirt and bra with both hands. I quickly stooped down and started sucking her nipple. She stood there holding up her shirt and bra, breathing super fast, sort of moving her torso back and forth when she wanted me to switch to the other nipple. As I’ve since learned, Paula’s nipples are incredibly sensitive, so much so that she can almost orgasm just from having them sucked, pinched, and lightly bitten. After a couple of minutes, she pulled her shirt and bra over her head and started to pull off her jeans and panties together. She stood there naked in her socks. Then she started rubbing my hard penis through my pants (honestly, too roughly to feel good). I quickly unbuckled and she stroked my erection for about five seconds before walking backwards a few steps into the office. She just laid back on the desk, looked at me, and slightly spread her legs. Her vagina was very hairy, like it had never been trimmed. With my pants and underwear still halfway around my ankles, I climb between her legs on the desk. My cock was at her hole, and she puts her hand down there to guide it in. Keep in mind I have not touched her vagina at all at this point. Everything about the encounter so far was screaming "Get inside me now!" though no words had been spoken. I could feel the head of my cock touch her labia, then her hand guiding me, then…. pure hot wetness as I slowly slid inside. I remember looking at her face. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she moaned "Que rico" in Spanish, which I think means "How rich!" or "How good!" I could not believe how wet this woman was. Some woman have creamy-like juice. Some have slick lubricant like KY. Paula was wet like water. Very thin consistency, and a seemingly endless supply. I fucked her in missionary position on that desk, marveling at the sloshy sounds as I slid in and out of her vagina. The smell of sex was super strong in the little office. At one point I pulled out and looked down at her pussy lips, bright pink in the middle of her soaked black bush. I slipped back in and she moaned in ecstasy, looking up at me like a totally different person—deadly serious, super lustful, almost to the point of looking angry. She was quiet as we fucked, just a few moans, no dirty talk. I may not have noticed her orgasm if she had not gushed out this clear liquid as I was deep inside her. I had read about squirting, seen those fake squirting videos, but this was as real as could be. It felt like a cup of warm water on my balls. After a minute or two of thrusting, I asked, "Are you on birth control?" She breathed, "I don’t need it," which in retrospect was ambiguous as hell, but I came inside her anyway, jack-hammering as hard as I could until my climax was over. We laid there and kissed gently while I was growing soft inside her. When we finally got up the desk was a sticky mess of semen and juices. We have had sex hundreds of times since then, never getting married, never dating, totally in secret. About once a week, we have phone sex where I monologue all the nasty things I’m going to do to her, including anal stuff which she allowed a few times in the past. I masturbate during the calls, but she refuses to touch herself. The most she’ll say is, "I’m hot," or "I’m wet." Nowadays our physical encounters are mostly at my office, where I have a big mirror set up near some leather office chairs. She sits passively in a chair and lets me peel off her clothes. Then she watches herself in the mirror as I suck her nipples and lick her clit. She’s still bushy as hell. She almost always cums within three minutes and then completely loses interest. She looks at me in disgust as I jerk off on her, then treats my cum like radioactive waste. That’s the truth, unvarnished. The sex has gotten pretty bad. Obviously it’s a messed up relationship. Only I initiate. It’s almost like I’m molesting her, but she likes it. She’s never said this, but I suspect she doesn’t want to do it anymore. Somehow, though, we always end up alone again. If I just touch her breasts, she melts immediately and wants to rush to orgasm as soon as possible. She doesn’t like kissing any more. She never smiles during sex, never talks, and never wants it to be "fun." She just wants to cum. And there’s always a cleanup job afterwards. 2muchsex