#if i had them on offer for cheaper i'd have noted them down in your 4+ options

[baekuras]

Had a customer repeatedly accuse us as a store of not being cheaper than others etc etc so much so that right now I decided to sit down and look at the actual, non contractual prices they’d have to pay if they went elsewhere or to the actual producer of the glasses

His wife paid about 400bucks for very thin high quality material, anti reflective coating, clear coat, hard coat, drive-safe filter, uv-filter, the whole anti fat/oil filters etc etc on them....because that’s premium glasses

Anyhow for similar ones (not drive-safe filtering but general blue light filtering) she would otherwise have paid about 680bucks

Her husband argued that she also paid less than 300 at times for her glasses (mind you she had like -5dpt on both eyes, is very much used to such prices especially considering she likes bigger metal frames, and her eyesight worsened by about 1dpt on both sides as well over the years compared to the glasses he was referring to)-which I had also shown him (I think it was about 230 or smth for what she had before which were also very good glasses but thicker and I simply wanted to offer her an even better option if she was interested) Like yeah-of course she doesn’t have to pay like 400bucks or something But if she wants all of this, and considering she has bad eyes, then I can’t just throw out a price of like 90bucks overall and expect premium material the math doesn’t math in this case friend

[billthedrake]

Note: This is a hypnosis story co-written with @josmith1718

THE PROTOCOL (CHAPTER TWO)

The next day, Dad and I had a lazy Saturday. I usually woke up early, but I slept like a log especially after dad's insatiable appetite after being under. I woke up and saw I was in bed alone. I stretched and made my way downstairs. I was wearing only boxer briefs when I came to the kitchen and saw dad making a whole breakfast spread, "Morning, bud. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Morning dad, what time did you wake up?"

"I've been up for a while. Woke up so refreshed." He smiled and gave me a kiss before asking me again, "Drink?"

"Uh, I'll have some orange juice."

"Okay bud, sit down, I'll get it for you."

Dad was very happy this morning. He was wearing an old baseball tee and shorts that were being eaten by his ass. I was spent from last night but seeing the sex god in this kitchen making me breakfast was giving me a second wind.

"Here you go son. What do you say we have a nice cookout today? Weather should be good; we can put some steaks on the grill and have some beers."

"Sure dad, but you are in the sun all day, I thought you would want to spend some time in the A/C."

"Well, we could do something else if you want." He smirked as he saw my hardon.

I reached down and tugged at my loose shorts, playfully showing off my endowment to Dad, but also pinching the base a little bit to tame the beast.

"It'll probably be better if I wait." I said.

"Waiting isn't your strong suit, buddy," Dad smirked.

"Nah it isn't," I admitted. I was about to ask whose fault that was but I reflected at how great my father was. I was the luckiest guy in the world. "So... cookout?" I asked. I knew if we stayed in that kitchen, I'd be initiating sex. And last Saturday we didn't leave the house till after noon...

Dad went to get dressed to run his errands to the grocery store. I offered to hit the hardware store for charcoal and some other stuff we needed. Surprisingly, bagged ice is cheaper there, too, so Dad asked me to get a bag or two so we could set up the cooler for the beer.

I was in and out of the big box store pretty quick. I don't know if it was the hypnosis, but I was in a weird mood that morning. Almost giddy with excitement of seeing if Dad was gonna put out for me later, really put out. Maybe I had some misgivings, too. I mean, Dad had brought up the hypnosis route and found the Company, but maybe I was too excited by the idea of reprogramming my loving father.

As I tossed the stuff in the back seat and as I started the car, I wondered about maybe my approach with fucking Dad was wrong. Maybe it wasn't just mental. Hypnosis was one thing, but he would need to get used to having something in his hole.

I took a little detour home, to where one of the adult sex stores was. Hopefully the ice wouldn't melt too much. I'd only been to this store a couple of times, the first time when I turned 18 and a buddy dared me to go as some sort of stupid high school ritual. The other was soon after that, when I heard a rumor you could get a no-strings blowjob in one of the booths. I went in, but chickened out.

Now, I went in and made a beeline for the vibrators and butt plugs. I was not a small fry and Dad would need some practice, even if he was under when I used the toys on him.

I found a beginner sized dildo and picked up an enema bag. I looked for a smaller sized butt plug. Even the smallest looked like it might be a challenge for a newbie at bottoming, but I picked it up too. With a naughty thought I eyed one of the bigger plugs. It would take a hell of a lot of hypnosis to get my tight virgin father to fit that inside him. But the idea turned me on like mad so I bought it too.

I made my purchases and headed back home. Dad was already putting away the groceries in the kitchen, as I went upstairs with my toys and hid them until I needed them.

I'd barely stashed them in the back of my sweaters in the closet when Dad walked into our bedroom. "I'm gonna hit the gym, Kyle," he said, peeling off that baseball shirt. God, here comes my hardon again. But Dad seemed oblivious to that as he went to root through his drawer for his workout gear. "I'll fire up the grill when I get back, OK?"

"Yeah, Dad," I said.

He grabbed his stuff and then paused to look at me. Maybe he wasn't so oblivious to my excitement after all. With a grin he sauntered over and stepped up to me, leaning forward to kiss me gently. It was hot, a lot of soft tongue as Dad and I made out in our bedroom.

His free hand was on my flank, feeling up my muscle beneath my T-shirt. "Nice, son," he grinned. "I can tell you've been hitting the gym too, buddy," he smirked. I worked out during my lunch hour at a corporate gym near my office. I usually enjoyed taking Saturday off.

"Gotta keep up with my old man," I smirked back. I reached down to undo my shorts, but Dad stopped me.

"Save it, buddy... it'll be worth your while, I promise." With that, dad pulled my shorts up and gave me a parting kiss, “Try to keep your hand away from that dick.” He said as he left the room. I did not know it was possible but I was even harder at that comment.

***

The food smelled great as dad sat next to me to let the meat cook on the grill. He had continued to wear the same workout clothes except for the sweaty shirt. He was showing off a good pump, I'd say, his perky nipples saluted me and his calves looked exceptionally delectable. If I was not so hungry, I probably would have tackled him as soon as he walked through the door.

"So how do you feel about the hypnosis, son?" Dad asked as he took a sip of his beer and sat next to me.

"I was hesitant at first but if it makes you happy, Dad, I'm game but, how about you? Did you feel different when you were under?" I asked. I kept putting the old man under and never even thought of asking if it was enjoyable.

"Not just me, son. Remember what you told me, if we're both not into it, we don't have to do it." He held his gaze on mine, "But I will be honest, if it'll help us... me... I want it."

I nodded and smiled at him. He reached and patted my thigh before answering the second half of my question.

"And to answer your question, I didn't feel anything. It felt like I fell asleep and when I ‘woke up' I felt refreshed. I hope it can help me to be able to give you what you want but if not, it's helping me to feel relaxed at least."

"Did you remember what you did when the man from the Company put you under?"

"No. We were talking and then he was telling me we were done. Whatever I did, I don't think it was embarrassing but I did feel good afterwards."

We ate, we tanned, and we had some more beers. It was a nice relaxed way to spend the weekend. Dad worked hard and in my own white collar way, I worked hard too. It was nice to lie in the backyard and think about nothing.

I had my eyes closed and tried to keep everything out of my mind. I just heard the sizzling of the grill, dad whistling, the light chirping of the birds. Suddenly, I began to think about the hypnosis and started throwing wood. It was a hot idea, having my dad do anything I wanted, bend over, and let me rim him or ask me to fuck him as matter-of-factly as he did when providing me with his oral services. I was maybe hoping it was a one session kind of deal and then Dad would be lifting his legs for me. Yet, he'd put off sex, even more than normal. I wondered if he needed more reinforcement or if I needed to expedite the process.

The more I thought about it, the more I decided I'd put him under again and take dad back to the white hallway. As soon as we went inside, I was determined I'd be putting him under again. I wanted to get in his ass but didn't want to do it prematurely. As I went through the motions of helping him clean and put away things, I was formulating a script in my mind of what I was going to say and do. I had to think of the Protocol the Company provided, and how reinforcement could help tap into Dad's inner psyche.

"That was great." Dad said as we were putting away the last of the leftovers in containers. I admired his hairy frame now that he had gotten a tan on his chest and back. A shame he didn't go shirtless at work, I'm sure he'd get more contracts showing his body off and he'd had an overall tan.

"You are the grill master, dad."

"You flatter me buddy." Dad rubbed my shoulder, as he stepped by me. I watched him walk down the hall, and even as he was out of my sight, the sound of the door closing suggested to me he was taking a piss.

It seemed the perfect chance to catch him unaware. That approach seemed to work the first time and if he was easily put under then, it should be no issue now. I put the food away as quickly as I could and then I walked down the hall to wait outside the bathroom for him to come out. I heard the flushing of the toilet followed by the start of dad washing his hands and whistling as he cleaned up.

"Hey buddy... you gotta go...?" Dad began as he opened the door but at the sound of me saying “power down” he stopped mid-sentence. He went from animated to emotionless in one swoop. His face was drained of emotion, his arms fell to his sides, and he looked past me, as though there was a point behind me, he needed to concentrate on.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Relaxed..." Was dad's monotone response.

"Remember what I told you about Kyle?"

Dad nodded and said "Yes..."

"Repeat to me what you learned about Kyle and what you need to do."

"Kyle does the fucking, to show him I love him, I have to let go and give him what he wants..." He responded. Once again, I smiled, "What does he want?"

"To fuck me." Dad responded, determined. As he finished his thought, I saw how he began to breathe a bit faster, and his cock began to swell up. The shorts he was wearing were flimsy and nothing hid what was happening down there.

"That's right. When this finally happens, you will give him happiness and he, in turn, will bring you pleasure. Your son will be happy, and you want to make your son happy right?"

"That's all I want, my boy to be happy." He was more determined with his response.

"Extend your hands and hold on to me, we are going back to the door in the white hallway." He extended his hands and I reached with mine. I held on, feeling the dampness on his skin.

"Walk with me as I count to five. Once I reach five, we'll be at the door."

"One... we're walking down the corridor," I slowly walked us to the bedroom where I had stashed the toys I would be needing, "Two... you are feeling relaxed and calm knowing your son will never cause you pain or hurt you," I passed a couple of framed pictures of us at a camping trip and from both of my graduations, "Three... you are closer to the door, remembering what you saw there, getting you excited..." At the threshold of the bedroom, I said, "Four... the door is at arm's reach, you want to open the door, right?"

"Yes, I want to open the door." Dad responded a bit breathlessly.

"Good... five, reach for the doorknob and open the door. What do you see?" I let go of his hand momentarily and saw him reach to the imaginary door to open it.

"I'm in bed with my boy... He is on top of me, getting ready to fuck me... My son looks happy..." Dad began to smile warmly as he saw the scene.

"He is very happy, but you can't bottom for him yet, why?" I caressed his hand.

"Men don't get fucked." Again, determined. I knew we would need to work on this now if we were going to get anywhere.

"Look at yourself, Brian. You are a man. Look at your muscles, your hairy torso, strong legs, are you not a man?"

"Yes, I'm a man."

"Keep looking at the scene in front of you, is your son inside you, fucking you, making you feel good?"

"God... yes, he is fucking me, making me feel pleasure." He tightened his grip on my hand and his breathing increased. He wanted to be able to give his boy this, the pleasure that he would experience was secondary at this point. All he wanted was to be a good daddy and take care of his boy's needs. He wanted what he saw.

"And as he is doing this... are you changing at all?" I asked, looking at dad's face to see if there was any resistance to what I was inferring.

Dad looked confused at this. I continued to caress his hand and pushed on, "Did you become less of a man?"

Again, confusion, his brow creased as he thought of it. I answered for him, "No you didn't. Look, Kyle is still fucking you, bringing you pleasure. He is fucking a man, not a woman. Say it, Kyle fucks men."

"Kyle fucks men..."

"Again, with conviction."

"Kyle fucks men." I moved his hand to my cock, and I moved my free hand to his, "Hold Kyle's cock and ask him who he fucks."

Dad looked at me as though trying to look through a fog and asked, "Who do you fuck?", his hand lightly gripping my cock like he did when he was ready to give me a handjob. I fished out his cock and began to match his grip and stroking motions as I answered.

"I fuck men, dad, not women, just men. Hairy, muscular, masculine men. Men that work construction, that have a tan from being in the sun working hard, muscles from moving heavy things all day." I said this as I stroked him.

"God, son..." he whispered to himself.

"Brian, who is getting fucked on the bed?" I asked, getting a thrill calling him by his name.

"I am..."

"Are you a man?"

"Yes..."

"So, say it, I'm a man that gets fucked."

Dad's voice was direct and unwavering. A pure expression of his unconscious. "Men don't get fucked."

Jesus Christ. Back to square one.

I let go of his dick and thought for a second. What would the Protocol suggest? I don't even remember where the idea came from, but I remembered something about triangulation. Shifting the focus. "Brian.... Listen carefully to my voice.”

Dad looked at me with unwavering concentration.

"You are past the white door now... where only my voice matters."

"Your voice."

I felt his grip on my cock get tighter, now playing with it, then stroking it. Fuck, this felt good.

"When you are awake, Brian, and you worry about not being a man, you can listen to my voice and it'll relax you, helping you let go for your son."

I spread my legs and let Dad openly stroke me. The more I talked the more eagerly he tugged at my dick. "You know what that voice will be telling you?"

He shook his head no. Like an eager student studying for a test. Aww God, his hand felt amazing. This man, even under, only had one mission and it was to bring me pleasure. I had to bite my lip and take a deep breath before I continued because I didn't want to shoot yet, I needed to see this through.

"That voice will be telling you that anytime you don't feel like a man, to think instead about Kyle. Your son—" God, Dad's hand was driving me crazy. I wasn't normally a hand job guy, but this head fuck was messing with mine in its own way. "—and how manly he is." I finished my train of thought in a raspy voice.

"Yes, Kyle is a man." Dad responded determined, proud even. The same way he would when bragging to his buddies about me for something.

"Good," I said. "And because Kyle is a man, you do not have to worry about yourself. Just listen to that voice...Dad." My breath was getting shorter. I reached out and began stroking Dad's cock as he did mine.

"What does that voice say, Dad?" I stopped calling him by his name and reverted back to ‘Dad.' I wanted him badly and calling him Brian, while naughty at first, was not as personable as ‘Dad.' The man raised me, taught me so much. Now it was my turn to return the favor, as it were, and teach him new things. Things that would bring him pleasure.

"That voice is saying Kyle is a man." He was sweating a bit, his nipples were perky and his cock throbbed in my hand.

"What do men do?"

"Men fuck.”

"What is going to help you be able to be your son's bottom daddy?” I was stroking dad hard, and he was too, we were both lost in the moment. I don't even know when it was the last time, I called dad ‘daddy' but I had just said it and if I was not in the edge of shooting, I was when dad responded.

"Listen to the voice... allow Kyle to make me his bottom daddy." The combination of seeing dad zonked out, his words and his hand on my cock, I shot my load, some of it landing on his hand and floor. Dad, in turn, shot all over my hand. Like father like son, both shooting our loads at the idea that I needed to fuck him, and he was going to allow me to.

We were both breathing hard and as we both caught our breath, I looked at dad and with some clarity instructed him to close the door. Dad used his free hand and simulated closing the imaginary door. I continued, "You are a man that gets fucked, keep that in mind. You still can't bottom for Kyle, but you want to, desperately. You want to get pleasure, you want to make Kyle happy, but you need to prepare for it. You will ask Kyle to help you. It'll be scary but put your trust in your son, he loves you, he is here for you, he is going to make sure everything you do for him, is returned with pleasure tenfold."

"I trust my son." No hesitation at all. That made me really happy that dad have trust in me.

"And he trusts you. He loves you very much." I kissed his cheek and felt the stubble, it was the weekend he hadn't shaved since Friday.

Dad smiled and continued to stroke my spent cock, bringing it back to life, "Once you come out of this state of relaxation, at some point tonight you will ask your son to help you. You will ask him what you need to do, what can you do to get ready. You will only feel pleasure once it happens. This pleasure will make you feel comfortable getting played with and fucked by your son, Kyle. Understood?"

"Yes... I want that... I want Kyle to play with me..."

"He wants to play with you too. Now, you are going to wake up when I count to three. When you wake, you will not realize you were under but will retain all instructions and suggestions. You will also not find it weird that we are here covered in cum. You will find it hot and want to shower off the remnants of it before we head downstairs, and watch T.V. Understood?"

"I understand."

"Good, let's wake up. One... Two... Three..."

Life came back to dad's eyes, and he smiled when he saw the mess we had made, "Shame I didn't get that load in my mouth but can't cry over spilled milk, right buddy?"

I smiled and he closed the gap and gave me a kiss, "Let's hit the showers, son." I nodded and followed him as he dragged me to the bathroom without letting go of my cock.

We showered, made out under the running water, and then saw a bit of T.V. before we called it a night. As we were getting ready for bed, dad looked at me intently, "I love you so much, buddy."

"I love you too dad." I smiled and threw a pillow at him. He caught it and then stroked it a bit, almost as if he was arming himself with courage.

"I really want to give you everything I can, son. I'm a man and I shouldn't be scared to ask for help so here it is.” He took a deep breath, “Help me."

"Dad, anything you need, you know I'm here for you." I responded. I sat on the edge of the bed and dad came to my side and sat next to me.

"I want to be your bottom and I need to know how to do that. I don't know if hypnosis will help but in case it does, I need to prepare myself... but I don't know what I should even do first." He sounded determined but innocent all at once. I bit my lip as he said that, damn, I was once again throwing wood.

I moved a bit, trying to hide what was growing between my legs and at first, I was not sure if dad noticed but he definitely did when he got up and used my name, "Come on Kyle, I need your help. Tell me what I need to do to prep for when I finally give it up." He sounded annoyed that I would choose his vulnerable moment to be a horndog.

"Sorry dad...” I grabbed a pillow and put it over my crotch, “You need to clean yourself out and then practice. It's not much to it. Here..." I got up, covering my crotch making dad more annoyed.

“Take the pillow off, I already know you're horny,” he growled softly.

I blushed and nodded and went to get the toys. I pretended to take a while to look for them as though they were there for a long time and brought out the enema bag, "Here you go dad, this is an enema bag, you use this to clean yourself out."

"So...I fill this with water and then..." He mimed it not wanting to say it, blushing as I nodded my head.

"I can help you if that would—"

"I'll do it alone buddy. We may shower together but I draw the line with you watching me shit out poop water."

"Alright, I'll be here dad. Take your time, it's not a race."

"How long do I do it for?" He asked as he walked towards the bathroom.

"Until the water you push out is clear."

Dad was gone for a while. My cock deflated as soon as he left. Dad's mere presence had that effect on me. He could be standing perfectly still and I'd want to jump his bones. As he cleaned himself, I ended up working on emails and getting them scheduled to be sent out Monday morning. I even folded some laundry as he stayed in the bathroom. I didn't hear much other than the occasional flushing. After a little over half an hour, I heard the toilet flush again and dad come back to the room as I was putting away some clothes.

"If we were to do the deed, I'd have to do that every time?" He was red and sweating. God only knows what he did in that bathroom, but I didn't think it would take that long.

"We can get a bidet and a proper douche, you know, to be cleaner down there." I smiled at dad.

"Fuck, buddy... I have never been in the bathroom this long ever but honestly, I never felt so clean." I couldn't deny my need to be with dad. I grabbed the folded clothes still on the bed and put them on the chair in the corner of the room and ran towards dad. He held me and we began to make out. He held me tight, his shirtless frame on my clothed one. He pulled the shirt off and I began to play with his hairy chest.

As the kisses became more needy, my hands began traveling slowly down towards his ass, something he would not let me do before. The man had his hangups and one of those things was not getting near his hole. I kissed, sucked, touched, caressed and loved every part of my dad's body but his ass... that was something I wanted to explore at length but never could.

"Son..." He began as my hand caressed his ass.

"Dad please, I won't go in, I just want to touch it." I said, going back to kissing him deeply. Dad moaned into my mouth and let me explore. Fuck, that furry ass was making me bone something bad. Dad slowly lowered my shorts and began to play with my cock, "Fat executive cock..." he hissed.

We were both enthralled by what we loved on each other's bodies. I scooted up in bed and let Dad suck my dick some. I had to urge him to go slow at times and finally pulled him off. I didn't want to cum in his mouth, though I could read Dad's desire to get off that way. He loved having my dick in his mouth and loved swallowing my cum.

I got back down so we were face to face, naked in bed together. But as I got on top of him, almost a classic missionary position, I felt Dad's body jerk and shiver beneath mine. Like he got a cold spell.

"You OK, Dad?" I asked.

He nodded, gulping. "Yeah, son... it's just... fuck!"

He got another shiver. I realized it was the hypnotic suggestion, giving him that excitement when I was on top of him. I humped his cock and we made out. Dad was moaning into my mouth and clutching at my back and then my arms. Pulling me in, wanting nothing more than my weight on top of his.

"You're such a fucking stud, son," he whispered as we finally broke that kiss and looked into each other's eyes. Dad was vulnerable and yet totally alive. Turned on. Fuck, this was gonna happen. Maybe I wouldn't even need the toys.

I kissed my way down, feeling my father shiver as I enjoyed the feel of his fur and his aged brawn. I went further, pushing Dad's legs back. That didn't get resistance but almost immediately his hand was on my head, stopping me.

"Can't son," he said. Not apologetic. Like, freaked out just from the fact I was gonna rim him.

Goddamnit.

"Power down," I said.

Dad's body relaxed, almost to the point of going limp. I even had to hold his legs in place, splayed back. I could see his squeaky clean pucker. Maybe this wasn't the Protocol, but I wasn't gonna waste a clean dad hole like this. Not after dreaming about it all day.

"When you were awake, how did you feel Brian?"

"Horny... then nervous."

"I understand... but, I'm going to share a secret with you that'll make the nerves fade away. You want that, right? You can speak freely”

“Yes, I don't want to be nervous for my boy.” I smiled. It must be hard for him. A man that has lived so long with this notion and wanting to get rid of it, knowing that it'll be a pleasure for him and his lover but unable to.

“Can you keep a secret?" I whispered, looking up from his hole. Damn, I wish I didn't have to do this right now. I was ready to rock his world. Nevertheless, I persisted.

"Yes." His voice was quiet, obedient, determined.

Damn, I was rock hard. This whole thing with dad recharged me in a way that I was ready to shoot again if dad helped me out. "You are a special man, Brian. Some men only have one pleasure spot. Their cocks. You have four."

"Four?" he said, a bit surprised with a hint of confusion.

"Yes, four. You've already found two. Your cock, and the back of your throat." I reached and caressed his cock a bit.

Dad's dick surged hard again when he felt my hand and my voice, the words and their meanings sinking in.

"You like when Kyle tickles the spot in your throat, don't you Brian?"

"I do," Dad answered.

"It's pure pleasure for you."

"Yes," he said.

I ran my fingers along his leg hair as I scooted in. Dropping my voice to an even more suggestive register, I continued, "You have a spot like that deep inside you, Brian. Deep in your ass."

His face grew questioning, but he nodded.

"So deep only your son can reach it. Kyle is the only man who has the key to unlock that spot for you."

"Kyle is a man." No hesitation.

Fuck, my cock just spurted some pre on to dad's furry belly.

"You know why he has that key?"

"Because Kyle loves me." His smile grew with his response. I loved this man.

"Yes, Kyle loves you and he wants you to feel that intense pleasure deep inside you."

"I am a lucky father."

"You are a lucky man, Brian. Because you have one more pleasure spot. Your asshole craves stimulation."

"Stimulation."

"You want Kyle to make that spot feel good, too."

"Yes."

We'd see if this works.

"Ok Brian, continue to listen to my voice. I am going to count to three. You will not realize you were under, but you will continue to follow all suggestions and instructions while you were in this state. Once you wake, you'll feel alive and happy and allow your boy do what he wants, you trust him. You want this. Understood?”

“I understand.”

“Let's wake up, handsome. One... two... three...”

Dad's body tensed beneath mine and he let out a breath. It took him a half second to refocus, but he smirked at me.

"You're hard as a rock, buddy," Without missing a beat he responded as though he hadn't been under.

I nodded. "You get me that way, Dad." I attacked his chest again with my lips then started the process of kissing lower. We'd see if this worked. I slowly got to his cock, kissing it before I went lower.

Dad was hesitant, I could feel his body stiffen but then I pulled his legs back again and he let me.

I saw my prize, that beautiful daddy hole winking at me, inviting me to love it. God, I wanted that more than anything, to show how good my tongue could feel in there... before something bigger went in.

"Son please..." He whispered. He knew it was going to happen and was nervous.

"I'm here dad, please trust me, let me make you feel good just like you make me feel good."

"I trust you son... I trust you completely." He bit his lip before reaching for his legs and raising them on his own.

"Aww fuck, dad..." I said and before he changed his mind, I dove into his ass and began to kiss it. I was in heaven, after so many years, I was rimming him, and it was amazing.

"My fucking God!" Dad cried. Unprepared for the sensations, he let out a moan and spread his legs wider. "Kyle! Buddy!"

"Yeah? Like your son eating this ass?" I asked as I pulled back to look up his furry beef and into his handsome face.

"I think so..." He opened his eyes, then watched as I dipped back in again to lick his entrance. "Yeah... that's it.... I love it, son. Keep going, eat your dad's ass, buddy."

"Thank you, dad, thank you," I muttered into his hole. I responded enthusiastically and began to really eat him out. Dad was moaning, his nipples were hard, his cock throbbing. The man had denied himself this feeling for too long, and I was happy and lucky to be the one giving him this pleasure.

"Eat me out, son, God your tongue is slithering in there." He was now bucking his hole against my face, almost riding my mouth. I still didn't know how much of this was the hypnotic suggestion or his body naturally feeling good from my hitting his spot but either way, I was not going to question it. Right now, I was going to enjoy myself and really give dad the full experience.

I moaned and nodded, really pushing my tongue into that nice, clean hole, wiggling it around before retreating to tease the pucker.

"My executive stud," Dad grunted, "Showing his dad how good it is to have him playing with his ass."

‘His ass,' fuck that made me double my efforts before I reached for his cock and began to play with it.

"Yeah buddy, play with it, that ass is yours, all yours stud. Fuck, you got me so hard, son." Goddamn, my father was contracting his abs and thrusting that vulnerable cherry hole up against my munching mouth. This was out of control in the best way.

Thank you, Tech Bro, I was getting everything I ever wanted. Never would Dad have let me do this before, and now he was encouraging me to play with his amazing dad hole. This guy at the Company knew what he was doing, and Dad and I were proof of it. I would recommend the service to however many people I could and leave a great Google review.

My man was now a moaning mess, sweating profusely, his nipples hard, his cock dripping precum, I wanted to concentrate on his pleasure and not mine. My cock would explode in my shorts for all I care if it meant that dad would love this enough to let me play in there whenever I wanted.

I pushed my tongue deeper in there as I felt his hole begin to open and suck on my tongue.

"I'm on the edge, buddy... ready to cum for my executive stud... shoot for my boy..." That was hot, I got off his ass and crawled until I was on top of him, "I love you dad, so damn much."

"I want to shoot my load for you, I want to give you my load, buddy."

"Shoot for your son, dad, shoot for your man." I kissed him again. He didn't object to tasting my lips fresh from his ass. I slipped Dad some tongue before pulling back. I wanted to rim him more.

Going back to his ass, I doubled my efforts, just as my hand gripped his cock as I began to stroke him.

"Give me that load, dad, shoot for your stud, show him what a good dad you are."

"Fuck son, fuck, fuck, eat me out.... You're working my spot, son," Dad grunted.

I nodded and increased the speed of my strokes. A combination of my tongue work and my hand on his cock, Dad moaned and then I felt his cock expand and shoot his load. I continued to stroke until I felt dad's hand on mine.

"Fuck, son...fuck..." He was shaking. I kissed his ass one last time before I let him lower his legs. Scooting up, I lay next to him, my cock hard as steel. We were both catching our breath. Dad had his arm over his eyes, like he was recovering from a marathon.

"Fuck..."

"How do you feel dad?" I asked as I laid my hand on his chest. His hairy chest was damp from the sweat, and I could feel his heart beating hard.

"Damn..." He responded before he laughed, "That was... amazing. So intense, I never... All I can say is.... fuck..."

I smiled and grabbed his head. He lifted his arm and looked at me, "Was it everything you hoped for?" He asked in a sultry voice.

"And more, dad, c'mere." He smiled and we kissed. We stayed kissing until he realized I had not shot, "You didn't cum?" He asked concerned.

"This was about your pleasure dad." I responded honestly.

"I'm such a lucky bastard. Let's get in the shower, son, I'll take care of you there."

***

Before bed, I pulled out the dildo I'd purchased.

"What's this?" He asked, chuckling, nervous as he saw me bring the thing out of the packaging.

"You washed yourself, now, we need to train your ass to get used to having something up there."

I was undeterred and I looked at him before saying, "Trust me, dad."

He bit his lip and nodded, "How do you want me?"

It was difficult but after rimming him again, to calm his nerves though it was more for me, I lubed him up and ran the dildo along his ass lips.

"Oh!" he grunted. I grinned and gave him a determined look as I ran the toy over his sensitive spot. The more I ran it over his ring, the more he seemed into it, and I watched him get a boner again. I took the cue to push it in. It wasn't too big, but it was enough.

"Easy son, I'm cherry back there." He urged, reaching down to grip my forearm. Dad has a strong grip.

I nodded and concentrated on just the inner part of his sphincter, eventually working an inch in and out, giving my old man time to get used to it. All in all, we both worked to get this next step completed. A compromise between my desire to see Dad penetrated and his desire to focus on the pleasures in his anus itself. We would both get a good night's sleep after our efforts this evening.

I was getting hard, and I stroked my cock in one hand while I used the other to diddle his hole.

Dad let out a grunt and another inch of that fake cock slid inside him. The suddenness tripped my wires.

"Fuck!" I gasped as a load shot out. Since Dad had sucked me off an hour before, it wasn't the heaviest cum, but it was bigger than I expected.

I thanked him with a kiss and pulled out the dildo, laying it on the nightstand.

"That was incredible, Dad," I muttered as he pulled my body to his, “I'm glad bud... and it was good for me too.” We fell asleep soon after, dad holding me in his arms.

[waryfalcon]

Hi! My name is Jazz. Diane Duane reblogged my post about top surgery last week, and you reblogged it from her with a very kind offer of advice and information -- which I super appreciate, thank you. :) And I will now proceed to take you up on that offer.

I'd like to ask: if you had to buy a compression garment to wear while you were healing, where did you get it? Did you have to buy any additional medical supplies like...I don't know, gauze or anything? How much could you move your elbows out to the side while healing? (I've been trying to practice having "t-rex arms", and it's taught me that apparently I'm very expansive in my elbow movements...) And how long was it before you could reach and stoop again in the course of your daily routine, like to empty a dishwasher and other simple things?

Also, if you have any more "things I wish I had known/someone had told me" I will VERY gladly accept them. Your tip about roomy button-up shirts, for example, was great.

Thank you again!! It was super nice of you to offer this. And congrats on your own not-long-ago top surgery!

Hi, Jazz! I'm glad to help. I know it can feel so dang overwhelming! Feel free to hit me up with any other questions or if any of my answers were confusing. (ASDF I meant to reply privately and forgot. If you want me to kill this and message the info to you, let me know!)

Compression Garments

The first one you receive you will wake up in after surgery. I personally got a second. You could get a nice one, I woke up in a Marena Full Vest, but I opted for a $25 snap up half compression vest I found on Amazon with decent reviews because I didn't think about wanting the second and couldn't get a half vest from Marena which was what I wanted in a timely fashion. Note on sizing, I got a men's medium in the Marena but a large in the other and both fit the same.

Then after I could get a binder on over my head I switched to mostly using one of my old binders, this was probably 4 weeks in. I think I wore it something like 6-8 weeks, much of that time was both awake and asleep. They will have recommendations for times in your recovery packet. If they don't some surgeon's list their tips on compression vest time on their websites.

**Note: If you could use a US men's medium and have an address you are comfortable with an internet stranger shipping something, I can send you the Marena and cheaper vest I got both.

Additional Medical Supplies

Pre-Surgery: Hibiclens soap. You should be able to find this at local stores, but def look in the aisle location stuff. I found it was next to wound care stuff. The surgeon will probably give you instructions on how many showers to take with it etc, but I cannot stress enough, do not use it on your face. I didn’t make that mistake, but it was stressed to me hard enough to know that no one would want to.

All general recovery things they will give you to take home with you after surgery/after your follow up visits.

A roll of silicone tape kinda like this stuff. Whether your doctor recommends it, I found it was amazing for softening the scars. Also it is apparently convenient for when you reach the point you can submerge. My surgeon told me it would adequately protect the scars from sunlight if I wanted to go swimming (He told me to go hit the beach during our first cold snap in October, we are 10 hrs away from the nearest beach. I might have laughed at him.) I cut it in half down the length of it and used thinner strips, I found that was plenty to cover the scars and meant I didn't use it near as fast.

If you don't have ibuprofen, get that. I didn't need a lot of pain meds but everyone is different and it's better to have and not need than need and not have. They gave me hydrocodone/acetaminophen tabs and told me I could alternate with an NSAID like ibuprofen if I needed meds more frequently than I could take those. 

Both a small bottle of stool softener and a small bottle of regular laxative. You may only need the stool softener, I started with it and it was not enough. I only needed them once, but I definitely needed the laxative. The combo of the anesthesia and the hydrocodone was tough.

If you have drains (most common) then a small cup or two for draining/measuring. Something like this maybe. I ended up having my friend who stayed to help me out like SCROUNGING to find old ones from nyquil bottles because you can't find them in physical stores on their own very easily. If you have those, just save a couple. If you wanna throw them away after each use, well -waves vaguely at the link- a set like that would be handy.

Range of Motion/Recovery Time

Every recovery is different. I was never at full T-rex arms, but I definitely was not at full ranger of motion for about a month. Every surgeon recommends things a bit differently too. Definitely try and get help that first week with store runs if you realize you need something, grabbing food/making food so you aren't stuck ordering delivery a bunch. Set things you know you'll want to reach on lower cabinet shelves/flat out on the counter. Even if it messes up your sense of order, you can fix it later, reaching above your head or too far side to side is TOUGH. And I definitely did not do as good a job of this as I thought and had to get help getting stuff accessible. As far as reaching down, I didn't notice an issue there at all. But I mostly crouch on my knees when doing that anyway. Assume it will be about impossible week 1 and tough through week 2, getting easier faster than you should do it after that.

My surgeon recommended I not go back to work for 3 weeks, but I did some work from home that third week. When I went back the weight restriction was 10 lbs for another 2 or so weeks. 10 lbs is a lot lighter than you think. (My very young 11lb cat QUICKLY realized I couldn't pick him up off of things and took advantage so hard, luckily I had help to retrieve him that first week when I couldn't even shove him off things)

My surgeon insisted I walk around at least 3 times the day of surgery(to avoid possible blood clots in the legs) and walk around some each day after. But at least 2 of my friends had surgeon's who insisted on complete bed rest the first week. The friend who stayed with me spent half the time staring at me incredulously because I was constantly having to force myself not to try to do more than I could and the last time they did this, the person spent the whole time in bed/was in a lot more pain/etc (which is why I note very strongly that every recovery is different). Meanwhile day 1 something about the anesthesia/pain med combo? I was WIRED. I couldn't sit still or sleep. I paced and chatted at a mile a minute until after 2am. (Given that, I am very lucky I was not stuck on bed rest. I would have SCREAMED)

Other Things it would have been nice to know

I had the stitches that dissolve over time. They do this at different rates. It can sting quite a bit actually. A lot of first aid creams have something numbing. It won't hurt to use them after initial recovery, because when I say at different rates I mean I didn't start having the stinging until after a month. I found I mostly had issues with the nipple grafts, not the main incision, but just on one side. Also? Don't worry too much about bits of what looks like puss. That is normal when they break down slowly, it's most likely not an infection. Basically, ask the nurse during a follow up if you have any concerns, but don't worry about it too much.

If you are a side sleeper, you will probably try to do that sooner than you can comfortably. I would suggest maybe to have a body pillow to either side to sandwich yourself and block turning. This didn't happen for me until I started recovering, but yeah, I definitely did not have a safe guard in place for when it did and that was painful/also difficult to get up from without trying to support too much of my own weight.

Remember that suggestion of a friend? I knew it in advance, but I really didn't know how much I'd ask of them. The one who went to the hospital with me had to pick up my prescriptions after I had the surgery. The one who stayed with me had to get me the laxatives and the the bigger shirts/make food runs/get stuff down for me I didn't realize I'd have trouble reaching/wrangle the cat. Just so many errands.

[therecordchanger62279]

An excerpt from my unpublished novel:

No sooner had I closed the door to my apartment, and laid my keys on the table, I heard a familiar knock on the door - two quick knocks, followed by a pause, and then another knock for good measure. I opened the door, and greeted my neighbor from across the hall.

"Hi, Anita. If you're up this early, you must have a client on the way."

"The bastard just cancelled. Or rather his wife did."

"His wife called you?"

"Yeah. The moron put me in his appointment book with the number next to my name. She found it, and called just now."

"What did you say?"

"Well, she started yelling right away, and cussin' me out, and wanted to know who I was, and how long I'd been having an affair with her husband? I told her to relax. I said it was nothing like that. He was a client, and that was all."

"Dodged a bullet, huh?"

"Nope. She wouldn't let it go so I finally told her what services I performed for her husband, and told her maybe if she'd try it sometime he wouldn't have to come to me."

"You didn't!"

"I sure as hell did. I don't need the aggravation. Besides, I'm out the money, and now I've got a whole morning to kill."

"Well, you wanna come in for some juice or something?"

"No. I want some coffee, and since you don't drink it you can come over to my place."

"Anita, I can't -

"I'm not asking you over for that - although the offer is good any time. I came over to tell you FedEx dropped a box in the hallway at my door. But it's for you. I dragged it inside. But it's heavy, and I ain't draggin' it to your place. You can come get it. If I'm gonna throw my back out, I'd like to be getting paid when it happens."

"Do you know where it's from?"

"I think maybe your publisher. Is it your new book? Did you get it finished?"

"It's been finished, but they turned it down, so it's not that."

I grabbed some scissors from the kitchen drawer, and we went across the hall. I cut the box open, and staring up at me were copies of my last book, with a note, and an invoice on top.

"What is it?" Anita asked.

Reading the invoice, I replied, "Remaindered copies of my last book."

"What's that?"

"They're the remaining, unsold copies of my book after they've shipped all the rest to book shops. It means the book is out of print, and they're severing ties with me, and settling my contract. I expected it after they turned down the new one."

"Sorry to hear that. But at least you've still got your job, and you can always write another book, right?"

"I got laid off yesterday. The paper is downsizing. In fact as soon as I shower and change, I'm headed to the office to get my things."

"Oh, man, that sucks. I'm really sorry. What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna pack up and move to a warmer, cheaper, place."

"You can't! You're the only other person on this floor besides that weirdo in 3D. I'll be all alone"

"Honey, with a face like yours, you'll never be alone."

"And who's gonna sweet talk me like that if you leave?"

"Don't your clients do that?"

"Nah. They figure if they have to pay, I should be sweet talking them."

"That's just not right."

"Tell me about it."

© 2023

[party-gilmore]

hey just wanted to stop by and say that it's nice seeing your personal posts because they are very goals and it's inspiring to see that they can be achieved !! every time i see that your have your own place and own dog and the means to fulfill your hobbies i'm always like FUCK how do i be them. anyways have a great sunday and start to your week!!!

Omg that's??? SO fucking sweet thank you so much????? I wish I had any actual advice to give, but i just got really lucky to be honest.

I have very supportive parents, and though they're not rich by any means they're also not hurting, either. They bought this house about 30 years ago, and it was paid off by about the time I was in highschool. So a little over a year ago, they bought my grandma's old house from my uncle, and moved out there to slow down a bit and prep for retirement. I've been renting this house from them at a MUCH cheaper rate than I could get anywhere else (to basically just pay their monthly mortgage), and all the groundwork as fair as room design and painting and upkeep was mostly already done!

However, it's still a very far cry from where I was about three years ago. Until about mid-2019, i still hadn't managed to move out of my parents house, and was staring down over 20,000 dollars in various credit card debt. I was so embarrassed, I never really talked about it much, and kept trying to "figure it out on my own." I was pretty much just keeping my head above water, without paying rent or utilities or ANYTHING, and i felt so ashamed like i failed at being an adult. When i finally opened up, my mom offered to help and wished I'd told her earlier. I just felt so bad taking money from my parents, because i was in my mid twenties and thought I should be able to stand on my own two feet.

Anyways, she helped me plan some stuff out - i had a truck at the time, paid off, and took it to CarMax on a whim to see what they'd give me for it. Mom taught me about the difference between secured and unsecured credit - how X thousand dollars on a car note is MUCH better to have than X thousand dollars in credit card debt - and i paid off almost my entire high interest card with it and got a smaller, more fuel efficient car. Honestly just getting that one big chunk of the weight out of the way started a chain reaction basically of being able to do the next steps and get me to where i am now:

No bills other than car note, rent, utilities, and about 500 dollars on a torrid card for warm winter clothes that i actually NEEDED.

[ask-the-friendly-red-cyborg]

I'd love to know more about your characters, but I don't know where to start with questions. ;v; Could you tell us a few facts about each of them we might not know? 'v'

((I think I'll do a quick recoup for everyone, as the blog has been around for more than 2 years already, and some story bits are quite far in the past - so beware of a really long post

Fukase, nicknamed by this here fool of the mun Red Boi

He's a V class cyborg of F558.x build, with the lower case x pointing that his build was experimental. In his case, the experiment was in creating a possible spy build with extra adaptive abilities, and to achieve this the DNA was spliced with some cephalopods and who knows what. The results left the DNA unstable, leaving the build with a chance of undergoing permanent changes in their bodies under high stress. But on a positive note, their natural regeneration is outstanding, but kinda hindered by the wrong setup of the regeneration system. In general, there were quite a few programming errors, as it was seemingly decided last minute as to which manufacturers were going to finalise their production and what are the final class they were to be.

Prior to his synchronisation, he was a performer with Yamaha on one of a rather sparsely populated planets. He had an accident during one of performances when the building caught on fire but his system failed to respond in any way, leaving him inside before his absence was noticed. He recovered quickly due to his natural regeneration, but the programmed block of regeneration on the left side of his body left him with burn marks and a need for his left eye to be replaced with an artificial one. (When the spacecraft he's currently on got into a star storm - akin to solar storms here, - his system shut down, allowing the natural regeneration to take over and heal the scars)

After synchronisation, he lived on his own, sometimes travelling to join a friendly Miku in performances when she asked him to.

When he checked in with the scientist overseeing the experiment, due to his regeneration failing he was written off as the final failure in the 558.x project and sent off to the main base of operations to be disposed of, but he was told it was so that he'd be treated for this. F112 caught it and sent him coordinates where they could meet up, since then Fukase has been travelling on the cargo space ship with him, officially not becoming a member of the crew, though.

Personality-wise, he's just a cinnamon roll, with the downside being he's the worst at keeping secrets. He's a guy to say something like "so and so hates this, but they told me not to tell anyone ever", and only then realise he's said something wrong. Other than such slip ups, he's very attentive to others, and might be surprisingly serious and insightful on some issues.

He hasn't had much life experience, and is pretty excited about anything new he learns about, and always tends to point out the best in people and situations. Unless it's him, as he's a bit self-conscious, especially about his unhealthily thin appearance, which leads to him exclusively wearing oversized clothes, especially thick sweaters.

F112, or Shitsui, or pretty much any way you want to address him (just not Fukase)

He's quite old for a cyborg, being one of the first V class cyborgs to use the second generation CPU that could interact with the brain leading to the "synchronisation", or a cyborg gaining self awareness and personality.

As it was back in the day when cyborgs were viewed as just a cheaper alternative to androids, he was bought, privately owned and treated like a life sized doll for the first 3 years of his life, till his physical and cybernetic systems gave up, and he was taken for dead and quite literally dumped.

He managed to survive by consuming spoiled food found at the dumpster. With him having no sense of taste, his food preferences haven't changed much.

He managed to get away from the centre of the human civilisation here by hiding on different ships going anywhere but just far away. He managed to hack his system, delete most of his programming and "not necessary" databases (which leads to him not being able to talk on mundane topics without using technical terms or rather general words, or results in him not being able to process a question) and installed what he deemed to be useful: weapons, combat and technology related databases.

He went on to work with some space pirates, then with bounty hunters, after working with one specific team on catching a dangerous criminal of one of the alien races he, as well as all members of the team, got full citizenship from that race as a thanks. This made him able to get an id and find a job that doesn't involve risking his life on the daily...

At least, he thought so, as the cargo ship he works on currently is prone to malfunctioning, especially its navigation system, which poses a risk of getting totally not where intended when making a wormhole jump, and getting stranded in the midst of unknown time and space without the chance of recharging the wormhole generator. And being the mainframe maintenance and general techy guy, he's the one who knows the most about how much trouble it actually means.

Before finding this seemingly safe job he found himself on the same planet where Fukase lived, right after the latter got synchronised, received his check and apartment from Yamaha and was literally thrown into the world he wasn't used to and knew nothing about. F112 got a place to live for a time, Fukase got a rather sceptical source of information about the world, both got someone to trust in each other. For the more comfortable and convenient communication, F112 set up a direct channel between the two of them, which he actually never took down and sometimes used to check on Fukase. One of such checks coinsided with Fukase being told to go to the HQ, which made F112 really passionately reach out to him and explain the real danger, giving also the coordinates of the nearest stop where they could meet up.

Shitsui is understandably not a fan of humans, but is quite patient with anyone else, and feels a sort of kinship with any other cyborgs, or robots, androids and in general anything possessing AI (which lead to him befriending the ship's AI whom he calls Mathilda, and to him trying to strike a conversation with household appliances if he senses any trace of AI in them). He has a bit of a pet peeve against people not doing their job properly, as he's seen it backfire terribly too many times. He has extreme sensitivity to the touch, easily getting overwhelmed by a lot of textures, and as a result wears clothes that cover his whole body, including gloves which he takes off just when feeling extremely secure (read it as "when alone with Red Boi"). Outside of other cyborgs or AI possessing beings, has hard time trusting and opening up.

Himitsu (the name given by Fukase for his secretive nature prior to erasure of his personality matrix)

Spy class cyborg, as such - was going to be disposed of prior to synchronisation (shady military dealings), but because of the brain activity heavy tasks he got to perform, got synchronised beforehands, and escaped with his life - but lost an arm after being shot with a blaster and having his system switched off to avoid being directly commanded to return. By the time he got far enough away that he thought it safe to turn his systems on, the wound was so far gone that the regeneration system deemed it irreparable and cut it off from the rest of the system to avoid spread of infection, causing it to separate.

Being an army intelligence cyborg, he was transported between the missions mostly in the state of hibernation under a specific hibernation agent which was deactivated with an antidote when he needed to be awakened. Due to the use of those, he's unable to fall asleep, unless his body completely shuts down for literal 15 minutes once in a while, which causes him to be moody and sleep deprived 24/7 and as a result transforms slight amount of spice his personality naturally has into him being a SASSquatch.

Found out about the other two after casually reading through the army archives on cyborgs, decided to try and find them, first watched them from afar and then approached. As he was a spy class cyborg, he was properly screened from giving off any electronic signals that could've exposed him as a cyborg, which he offered to trade for removing any controls he had built in. As his last intelligence mission had his cover as an engineer, he was also offered a place as a ship's tech, and does his best to whip it to shape and help pressure the captain into realising that they really need some new parts and "if the fate says it malfunctions so be it" isn't a good motto.))

[everlarkbirthdaydrabbles]

Hi my birthday is February 10, I'd like one set in college, fluffiness and in any rating. Thank you!

Happiest of birthdays to you! To celebrate in style, the always amazing @titaniasfics has written this delicious little everlark drabble, just for you! Enjoy!

Near-Sighted

The prompt asked for college!Everlark, fluffy or smutty. This one came out rated T.

Many thanks to @eala-musings for her betaing magic and @akai-echo and @everllarkingnewtina for prereading.

Happy birthday!

Katniss was absolutely positive she’d left her glasses sitting between The Aeneid and her laptop.  A cursory glance over the piles of books on the cherrywood table assured her that her glasses were most definitely not anywhere to be found. Not on the assorted tomes lining her work area, not in the middle of the notes she was taking for her Latin Literature in Translation class. Not on the chair, in her backpack, her shirt pocket or even on top of her head. In a huff, she gave a cursory scan at the stacks she’d visited, but her vision was blurry and nothing stood out at her.

Dammit, she needed those glasses!

Her problem was not the reading or note-taking - she didn’t actually need glasses to read. She had no problem whatsoever seeing what was right in front of her. But she did need her glasses to see far away, especially as she was going to meet Madge for dinner after she finished studying. She needed them most at night if she wasn’t planning on walking into poles and sides of buildings.

She slowly expelled a lungful of air, trying to calm her frustration at having arrived at this predicament. Rounding her table, she checked the floor, the trash bin, even the lamp attached to the wall. Anything that might point her in the direction of her second pair of eyes. Finally, she issued a muffled squeal of delight when she saw the very glasses she sought on another table, just a few feet down and across from her. She walked quickly, oblivious to everything around her except for her goal of reaching her missing accessory. When they were within reach, she scooped them up from the top of the book pile and, with a sigh of relief, put them on.

Yes!  Yes!

Oh, no…

She pulled them off of her eyes, blinking quickly to clear away the distortion of her surroundings. Instead of coming into focus, the world had become curved and elongated, like a mirror in a fun house.  She studied the frames carefully. Solid black. Square frame. Almost too big for her face. Touch of silver inside the right earpiece…wait, no touch of silver inside the right temple tip–  

“Excuse me,” came a man’s voice, so close to her, she started involuntarily.

She still held the confounding frames in her hand when she raised her eyes to meet the speaker.  He was a student, like her, not entirely unfamiliar, though she’d never spoken to him. Medium build, ashy blond waves and eyes that were an absolutely riveting shade of blue. She didn’t speak as much as croak, “Yes?”

“You seem to have become fond of my glasses,” he said, a lilt of humor in his voice.

Katniss looked at him, then down at the glasses, then back up at him before thrusting the glasses forward. “Well, that explains why I can’t see with them. Your vision is worse than mine.” She placed them on the stack where she’d found them, burning inside and out with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I was sure they were mine.”

“Did you misplace yours?” he asked, taking the glasses, wiping them briefly with a white cloth the kind that always came in eyeglass cases. He put them on and she suddenly envied him and his possession of glasses that should have been, and very nearly were, hers. Except for the fact they were not.

“Sadly, yes. They look exactly like yours and now I’m afraid I’ll never find them.”

He nodded thoughtfully, evidently thinking and scanning the stacks as she had, although she could have assured him that it was an exercise in futility.

“Where are your books? The ones you took from the shelves?”

I pointed at the table where I’d been working. “There.” I followed him as he made his way to my work area and perused the selections.

“Are you taking your lit class with Professor Coin?” he asked, picking up each book and scanning the spine of each in turn.

“Yeah,” she answered. “I was working on a paper that’s due next week.”

“Do you like her?” he asked, putting one of the books under his arm and indicating towards the stacks.

“Eh, well…” I started, wondering instead where he was going with my book. “She can be…abrupt…sometimes.”

“You’re too polite. She’s unpleasant and cold. I had her last semester. Almost made me hate reading, and I thought nothing could make me hate reading.”

She chuckled, nodding in agreement. “That’s a good way of putting it.” She pointed at her book. “What are you doing with it?”

“I figured I’d use your books as a map, go back through them until we get to the place where you lost your glasses.”

Katniss was taken aback at the offer for help. “Please, I can do that, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

He smiled, his eyes literally twinkling, an effect that momentarily befuddled her. Even with the glasses, his eyes were a captivating shade of blue.  “I needed a study break. I’m Peeta, by the way. You actually look familiar.”

“I’m Katniss,” she said, wracking her brain before clearing her throat and speaking. “And yeah, I think we might have taken a freshman class together or something.”

“We were in the same Freshman Composition and Survey of World History classes together. You also took your lunch in the cafeteria about the same time every day for a while, but…” He rubbed the back of his neck, perhaps not completely oblivious to Katniss’s surprise. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he said, a slight flush tingeing his cheek. He turned and looked again in the direction of the stacks. “Let’s start here.”

Katniss took a couple of books and followed him, attempting to study the binding for the call numbers as her mind raced. How did he remember so much about her? Yet she barely recalled him, though in her defense, freshman classes were impossible large and often taught in amphitheater-style rooms that prohibited people from interacting with anyone who was not seated closeby.

She scolded herself, setting off to search the shelves with renewed energy, attempting to focus on the task before them.

“Are you staying on campus?” he asked after several moments of scanning the row upon row of books.

“Oh, me?” she said, looking up only to become distracted by the way his back flexed under the thin materials of his white t-shirt. “I have a little place off campus that I share with three other roommates. It’s cheaper and quieter usually.”

“And probably cleaner. I’m in the dorms with another roommate, but it’s a zoo sometimes. That’s why I come here to study.”

Katniss nodded to his turned back and remembered to speak. “Me, too. I think sometimes I’m the only one in my apartment who actually studies.”

He stopped and turned with an expression of surprise. “Right? I mean, at some point, between the parties and the hanging out, you have to earn a degree, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, “I have a scholarship to keep up. Otherwise, I get sent home.”

He gazed at her, the intensity in his eyes flaring momentarily, making her feel both flushed and shivery at the same time. “I’m on a scholarship, too. Seems we have some things in common.”

“Yeah,” she said, very near breathless now. She didn’t understand how looking at someone while they spoke, something she was accustomed to doing with everyone, could have such a strange effect on her. She wasn’t much of a talker, but there was something about him that inspired a wave of contrasts - hot and cold, speech and silence, interest and shyness.  She was grateful when he turned to the next aisle, leaving her momentarily alone to take a deep breath and compose herself. She hadn’t felt like that in, well, never.

When she rounded the end of the stalls, Katniss could tell his search had been unsuccessful. He was about to speak, but the buzz of her phone reverberated between them.

“Excuse me,” Katniss said as she pulled the cell out of her pocket. It was Madge and, judging by the time, she was already running late to dinner with her friends. This was confirmed by Madge’s message:

-Are you coming?

Katniss smiled apologetically at Peeta as she typed out:

-Sorry. Got hung up at the library. Misplaced my glasses

“My roommate,” she said by way of explanation. Madge’s response vibrated to life.

-Dummy, there’s a pair here, on your desk

Katniss groaned when she read the text, a sound that drew Peeta’s attention. “I’m completely brainless,” she said, shaking her head at herself.

“Why?”

“Madge…my friend…she told me my glasses are home. I’ve wasted your good time and mine also. I’m sorry.”

Peeta’s eyes widened before he chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. It’s probably the only kind of adventure you can actually have at the library. I’m happy to say I can take that off my bucket list, now.”

Katniss laughed, noting how far his humor went towards making her feel at ease. She actually didn’t really care about the glasses anymore.  The phone vibrated insistently in her pocket, reminding her that she had other obligations that she simply didn’t care about either.

Peeta handed back the book he was holding, which she took absently. On an impulse, she spoke, tripping over her words, “I…I haven’t had dinner yet, and I can’t get too far without my glasses. Blind, you know?”

He tapped his own pair. “I might know something about that.”

She felt her skin prickle with heat and a certain excitement. “So…there’s a place nearby. You could…come with me…keep me from falling into a construction pit or something.”

“Ah, or from playing in traffic,” he said, the deepening pink of his cheeks and neck betraying his own nervousness. “I would love to have dinner with you.”

“That’s..great…I’ll let my roommate know,” she said as she tapped out a quick message to Madge:

Have other plans. Text you at 11

The response was nearly instantaneous:

It had better involve a guy and there had better be lots of naughty bits

Katniss glanced at Peeta, who waited patiently for her to finish, and answered:

It does and I hope so too ;)

fin

[musicalshards]

Hi, so I have a really old saxophone (tenor sax maybe??? I have no idea) that I want to start learning but it's been sitting in its case for years now and is pretty musty. I'd like to wash it or something but I don't know how to do that without damaging it, do you have any tips or anything for me? Also what kind of reeds should I get for it? Thanks in advance! 😊

OOHOHO this is a very exciting ask to answer!! >:D Warning: this may not be all you need to do, in terms of cleaning and function especially, so further advice may be needed (or feel free to send me further info).

Cleaning: I haven’t ever had to do a major cleaning job with any of my saxophones. I know you can bathe a french horn and all its gubbins, but I wouldn’t recommend that for a saxophone without further research because I’ve never heard it been done. If it’s just rusty on the outside, it’s probably okay but looks a bit crusty. Dust? Get a soft chamois cloth (the type glasses cleaning rags are made of) or even just a nice duster-cloth and give it a good polish. If you take the cap off the top of the body (if there is one) and it comes off in a big fluffy pipe-cleaner thing, wash that in really hot water + washing up liquid (plus rubber gloves if the water is super hot). Do the same for the mouthpiece if it’s black not metal, but NOT id it is metal, or the ligature. If it is metal, thoroughly get in there with some baby wipes and dry with kitchen towel. Leave the fluffy thing (if present) to dry for a day after patting it down with a towel before putting it back in the saxophone. Don’t use any reeds that might be in the case, and if there’s a little patch stuck onto the top of the mouthpiece, take it off before washing the mouthpiece and throw it away. If it comes with a pull through cloth (a soft polishing-style cloth with a weighted string attached to it), wash that too, wait for it the same amount of time to dry, then drop the weighted string down the narrow top, stick your hand down the bell and pull the whole thing through quite a few times (then maybe wash it again just that first time). If you don’t have a pull through cloth, I’d recommend you buy one.

Function of the instrument: I, obviously, do not know how well this instrument functions and neither do you (assuming you have no woodwind experience), so the advice here may not be totally accurate. There might be rods and keys broken or bent, which I can’t help you with and you’d probably have to take it to a repair person to find out, or ask someone who does play saxophone. The pads might also be faulty and thin, and this could render the instrument basically unplayable depending on how bad it is. A quick google search says you can tell if you somehow obtain a bendy light stick (???), like a flexible LED type one, stick it down the saxophone and close all the keys (bit by bit) and if you see light coming out there’s a leak? Idk about this one. Otherwise, it’s difficult to tell. If your instrument doesn’t function well (idk how you came to obtain it so honestly it could be anything), you won’t be able to go onto the next step until you get some advice for it.  

Reeds and shit: I use Rico reeds mostly. Lots of people say they’re shit - I like them, mainly because they’re a little softer than Vandorens (essentially meaning easier to play) and I’m still improving my technique and can’t play on reeds harder than 2.5. (Harder reeds essentially get a better tone that makes v. high and v. low notes easier and sound better). Rico’s are also significantly cheaper than Vandorens (for me) and are totally great for beginners. You should probably start on a 2 strength (the regular Rico ones are orange; there are Rico Royals in blue but I’ve never personally liked those) but if you find making a sound (more on that) really difficult, try 1.5. Try buying a couple of single reeds before buying a whole pack if you can. You also HAVE to know which saxophone you’re playing to know which reeds to get, so feel free to shoot me a quick photo of it and I can tell you what type it is if you’re not sure. 

Making a sound: You might find internet tutorial videos and books more useful than me saying this, but feel free to ask me any specific questions about “I’m doing this and it isn’t working” or “how do you do x or y”. Much of what you find for the clarinet will be similar, but look specifically for advice on the specific saxophone you’re playing (if it is tenor) because this does make a difference - tenor embouchure and air support is much wider and open than alto, and it would benefit to begin learning from a tenor perspective rather than a “generic saxophone” view - because that doesn’t really exist. Also take into account that make, model, mouthpiece, ligature (sometimes), reed strength or generally having an asshole reed will make a difference in this, so don’t be disheartened if it isn’t working out! If you have any saxophone or clarinettist friends who can help you, that would be invaluable (clarinets also use very similar single reed but remember their embouchure and mouth-things are generally tighter from the saxophone).

Other stuff: The proper function of the instrument will also depend on what brand it is, which I’m also happy to help/give advice on. To a certain extent this will effect how easy it is to play, but if you’re only beginning it should be fine. In terms of beginning to play, I personally advise buying The Standard of Excellence Book 1 for (insert saxophone type here) - it does teach you music itself from a basic level which won’t be useful, but it will teach you the saxophone fingerings and stuff. There are resources all over the internet you can find to help. If repertoire and music to play is what you’re looking for, try looking at some things by Rob Buckland - he has a great series running from simple and introductory music straight up and past Grade 8. 

Wfoof I hope this isn’t too long, but I hope this is useful! Again, I’m intrigued by this mysterious sax lying around so feel free to message me and I can help you identify model, make and such things and offer any other advice!