#presidio wall

[chaunceyandchumleysdad]

Don't you hate it when you put your house up for sale, a house that includes a pickleball court, and you have to drop the sale price from $36M to $29M because of pickleball players?

[ereardon]

One Night in Tokyo [Jake Seresin x Reader]

Summary: Calling off your wedding three days before wasn’t part of the plan. Neither was going to Tokyo alone on what was supposed to be your honeymoon. That’s how you ended up at the bar of The Shangri-La, drinking martinis. That’s how Jake Seresin found you. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, SMUT, called off wedding, alcohol. This is filth, y’all

WC: 6.2K

You knocked on the door, fingers shaking. Maybe it was the nerves. Or the gin. Or both. You waited, shifting subtly from side to side, letting your weight sink into the balls of your feet as your stilettos dug into the carpet of the hotel hallway. 

Finally, just as you were wondering if you should knock again or leave, the door swung open. 

You stuttered. His green eyes roamed over your body, starting at your feet, working their way over your short dress, up to your cleavage, rolling over your collarbones, finally meeting your own. 

He smiled. You smiled back, timidly. He stepped to the side, leaving a gap in the doorway. You looked beyond where he stood. The glittering lights of Tokyo flickered beyond the floor to ceiling windows of the hotel suite. 

“Coming in, baby?” he asked. 

You looked up at Jake Seresin before nodding, stepping over the threshold, letting Jake’s hand fall to the small of your back as he closed the door, locking the two of you inside, sealing your decision. 

**One Hour Before**

You were tired. But you were also stubborn. They say to fight the jet lag by staying up until an appropriate time in wherever location you have landed. But it had been two days and you were still struggling to stay awake past seven o’clock. Sitting in your hotel room wasn’t doing any good, so you wandered down to the bar, ordering a gin martini, nursing it slowly, people watching. 

Shangri-La Hotel Tokyo. The nicest hotel in the city. That’s what you’re supposed to stay in for your honeymoon, right? The fanciest hotel. Have the best time. The best sex. A place you’ll want to revisit in the future when your marriage has taken a few turns, tumbled down a few hills. When your husband’s snoring means you have to sleep in two different beds and your kid’s soccer practice schedule leaves you so worn out at the end of the day that you can barely brush your teeth let alone shave your legs and when the ten year anniversary comes around you’re clinging to the memories of sweaty hotel sex with no set alarms and no responsibilities, the way it was on your honeymoon to cancel out the feelings of inadequacy that have piled up in your marriage. 

Or at least, that’s how it should have gone. Before the wedding got called off. Less than three days before the ceremony. 

By then, most of your family had already flown into San Francisco. Your sister was the one who showed up at your door, her face tight and pale, her phone glued to her palm as she started to make the calls. 

“Aunt June? It’s Gwen. Listen, about the wedding…” 

You went into the bedroom and laid down, let the searing sun glare across your closed eyelids. San Francisco was cloudy every fucking day except the day your life turned upside down. Then it had the audacity to sparkle, sun shining from every corner of its asshole.  

Michael had come home and bared his soul. He didn’t love you. He maybe never had. But he had done what he thought was right. Met a girl, asked her to marry him. Planned a wedding. 

What he hadn’t anticipated was that you would throw an antique clock at his head, nicking the bottom of his ear, creating a gouge in the wall of the one bedroom apartment the two of you shared in Presidio Heights. He didn’t even have time to get his things. You simply opened the window and tossed them out onto Laurel Street. Including his fucking Xbox, which smashed into a million pieces as he shrieked from three stories below. It was the first time you smiled all day. 

That was how you ended up alone in Tokyo on what should have been your honeymoon, sipping a gin drink, something called Lavender Moon, that was fuzzy on your tongue, followed by two gin martinis with a twist. 

That was how Jake Seresin found you.  

You didn’t even notice him at first. He was smooth and slick, like a jungle cat, perched in a chair on the other side of the square bar, face partially hidden by the dim light. But when you left for the bathroom and returned, he had made his way to a seat directly next to yours. You climbed onto the chair you had recently vacated and noticed a new drink in front of you. 

“Hendrick’s martini with a twist. Dry.” His voice was silky but you frowned anyway. 

“Did I ask?”

He grinned, revealing a set of brilliant white teeth. “Looked like you needed a refill.” 

You shook your head. “You expect me to drink something that just magically appeared at my spot at the bar when I was in the bathroom. No thanks.” 

He leaned back, one arm against the sleek bar. He smelled like expensive cologne, the kind that doesn’t overpower but instead glides under the radar until it’s consuming you. He wore a perfectly fitted button down that showed off his sculpted arms, and a pair of tailored pants, belt cinched tight with a fancy Italian leather belt. 

You raised an eyebrow. “So you can go.” 

He made no move to vacate his chair. “You here alone?” 

You narrowed your eyes. “And you think I would tell you if I were? So you could come murder me later tonight? I’m good, but thanks for checking.” 

He flagged down the bartender. “Another martini for me, extra dry. And my girlfriend will have the same.” 

“Was this martini no good, sir?” the bartender asked. 

He smiled at you. “It was poisoned is all.” 

The bartender frowned, but cleared it. The bar stranger turned to you, his entire body shifting and opening up toward yours. 

“Jake Seresin,” he said, holding out one hand. “Think we should be on a first name basis as you’re my girlfriend and all.” 

You laughed. “You’re smooth, I’ll give you that.” 

“There’s more where that came from…?” He waited. 

You gave in. “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Jake repeated. The way he said your name sounded better than it ever had when Michael said it. “What are you doing here, alone, Y/N?”

You could make up any variety of lie. You could say you were an insurance salesman. That you were a stripper waiting until the clubs opened. That you owned the hotel. 

So why did you tell him the truth?

“I’m drinking alone,” you said, “because my fiancé decided he didn’t love me anymore and I threw a clock at his head. And before he could explain why I was on a flight to what was supposed to be our honeymoon. But now apparently it's just an excuse to get sloppy drunk and flirt with ridiculous men.” 

Jake was silent. You expected a joke or maybe even an apology or some kind of reaction. But he simply took a sip of his martini, taking his time before setting it down without spilling a drop. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slim billfold, sliding a black card across the bar toward the bartender. “All of the drinks on here, please,” he said. The bartender nodded, picking up the card and walking away. Jake looked back at you, pulling out a second card, placing it directly in front of your drink. “Sun suite. Thirty-seventh floor.”

You put your fingertips on the card. “What makes you think I’ll sleep with you after knowing you for approximately forty seconds?” 

Jake signed the bill, sliding his credit card back into his wallet before standing up. He was hovering so close to where you sat you could practically feel him hugging to every curve. Jake bent down, his breath warm against your neck and ear. “For once in your life,” he murmured, “do something exciting. I’ll see you soon, baby.” 

And then he was disappearing out of the silk screened doors and you turned back to the bar with shock written across your face. 

Who the fuck was Jake Seresin? And why did he have you dripping wet beneath your cocktail dress in a matter of minutes? 

***

There was a stillness to the room. As soon as the door shut, a flood of panic zipped through your veins. Was this a mistake? He was a stranger. A good looking, smooth stranger. 

Serial killer material. 

“I don’t plan on murdering you if that’s what you’re thinking,” Jake said from across the room, a smirk spread along his beautiful face. He had a glass of scotch in one hand, long legs leaning up against the back of a silk couch. You frowned and he chuckled. “You’re easier to read than you think, sweetheart.” 

“So you do this often, huh?” you asked, stepping closer, running one hand over the marble counter of the bar set up in one end of the living room. 

Jake approached gently from behind, grabbing a bottle of champagne from a bucket of ice, peeling off the foil wrapping at the top before popping it gently in one hand. “Yes,” he admitted. “Since my divorce.” 

“How long?” 

“Two years.” 

“Shame,” you replied as he poured you a glass of champagne, taking the delicate crystal stem in one hand. 

Jake shrugged. “It’s my fault. I was gone all the time and she got tired of waiting around. I don’t blame her.” 

You looked up at him. He was even more chiseled than you had originally thought. Short stubble over the bottom half of his face, piercing green eyes, slightly too long hair swept back with a practiced hand gesture. Who wouldn’t wait for him? 

Jake shook his head. “Anyway, you don’t want to hear about that. That’s not why you’re here.” 

“Maybe I do,” you said quietly, turning back around to look at him before facing forward, eyes scanning the cityscape outside the large windows. “Maybe I want to know you before we do this.” 

You shivered as Jake’s hand skimmed your waist, and you could feel the heat from his body as he stepped in closer, hovering only inches from you, his hips level with yours, his breath on your neck. “Y/N,” he murmured. “It can just be a drink if that’s what you want. Nothing more.” 

You swiveled around until you and Jake were face-to-face, your ass pressed up against the glass. “I want more,” you whispered. “I’m just…” You trailed off. 

He nodded. “I know.” Jake took the glass out of your hand and put it down on the coffee table near the silk couch. When he stepped back toward you, his hand smoothed over your waist again. Large. Warm. Thrilling. When was the last time you had been touched by someone since Michael? “We’ll take things slow.” 

“Is that what you tell all the girls after you spike their drinks?” 

He laughed. It was a nice laugh. Better than nice. It hugged you like a good pair of leggings. A warm scarf on a cold autumn day. It radiated a warmth you hadn’t seen in your almost-husband in a long time. Jake smiled down at you. “Why did you come here tonight?” he asked. 

“You told me to.” 

“But you don’t seem like the kind of woman who does things because someone told her to,” he replied. Jake let his fingers slide up slightly, thumb brushing beneath the curve of your breast in your tight black dress. You swallowed a gasp. “You seem like the kind of woman who likes to be in charge.” 

“Maybe being the boss is exhausting,” you whispered as Jake slid his thumb up over your breast, toward your nipple. You could feel your pulse between your thighs. “Maybe for once I want someone else in the driver’s seat.” 

He leaned in, second hand grabbing your waist, tugging you up against him tightly, the hand on your breast now palming you entirely, squeezing you until you groaned lightly. “Say the word, baby, and I’m all yours. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” 

You looked up at Jake. “And then what?” you asked. “I leave and we never see each other again? Just disappear into a city of fourteen million people?” 

His lips curled up. “Why not? It’s one night, Y/N. You look like you could use a good fuck. And trust me when I say, I’m good.” 

You rolled your eyes and he chuckled. “Oh fuck it,” you muttered, reaching your hands up and winding them around Jake’s neck, dragging his head down to yours, pressing your lips to his. You whimpered as Jake’s hands gripped your waist tightly, walking you backward until you were pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window, his tongue padding yours gently, his knee nudging your legs wider until your core was pressed down against his trousers, lighting up your clit. 

Jake pulled his lips from yours, sliding down and kissing along your neck, sucking behind your ear, one hand cupping your ass, pulling you forward against his thigh, forcing a moan out of your mouth. “Do you want to tell me what you want?” Jake whispered gruffly. “Or do you just want me to guess?” 

“Fuck me until I can’t walk,” you replied and he groaned, burying his face in your chest, fingertips dragging down the top of your dress until your breasts were spilling out and Jake’s mouth was on your nipple, hot and wet, and when he sucked harshly you let out a gasp. “Oh, shit!” 

Jake pulled off of your nipple with a groan, spinning you around until you were facing the city, your hands pressed high on the glass. He adjusted the front of your dress so your breasts were covered once again before sliding his body over yours from behind. You could feel how hard he was in his trousers as he rubbed himself over your ass, his lips trailing over your left shoulder. Gently, he moved the hair from your neck, kissing you until a crop of goosebumps arose on your arms. 

He slid his hands down over your sides, letting one hand dip down below your ass in between your legs, brushing lightly over your soaked core. 

He grunted. “Fuck, you’re wet.” His hand moved down, trailing along your inner thigh before he nudged your legs apart, widening your stance, stepping in closer, pressing himself flush with your back. One hand came up and held you across your abdomen, and the other wrapped around and slithered up your thigh, crossing over to the apex between your legs, his fingers slipping beneath the lacy fabric of your panties, thick fingertips brushing over your wet folds. “Holy shit,” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

Jake’s fingers slid down past your clit and folds as you wobbled in his arms, until his middle finger was circling your entrance. You were practically bucking against his hand, his large palm flattened against your clit, and he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder as his finger slipped inside of you, spreading you open while you whined in his arms. “Oh my God!” 

“You like that, hmm?” He thrust his finger into you until he was met with the spongy part of your walls, fingertip curling and brushing against your inner wall as you shook in his arms. The next time Jake pulled his finger out he added a second one and you hitched forward, leaning your forehead against the glass, breath fogging and blurring the cityscape below. 

“Shit, yes, yes.” 

Jake buried his fingers into your cunt as you dripped on his knuckles, his free hand holding you up as your legs started to shake. Then, in an instant, he pulled his fingers out and you frowned. Before you could protest, Jake had turned you back around and he was on his knees. “Come here,” he demanded and you stepped forward, letting Jake’s hand slide up your bare leg, one finger hooking into the lacy fabric of your thong, pulling it down your legs slowly until you stepped out of it. He made sure it didn’t catch on your stilettos as he pressed your feet open wider, hands sliding back up the outsides of your thighs, bunching the black tight dress up around your waist so your dripping core was laid bare for him. Jake pulled himself to eye level with your wet pussy and groaned audibly. “Fuck,” he muttered, bending forward, licking a stripe up your folds as your hands shot out, reaching for his shoulders to steady you. 

“Oh!” 

His fingers dug into your thighs as his sharp tongue spread you open, licking around your entrance, nose buried deep against your puffy clit as you rocked back and forth across his face, barely able to contain yourself. Jake’s hands kept you just close enough that you were practically shaking as you grinded against him, letting his tongue work you into a frenzy. 

And just as you were starting to build the heat in your lower abdomen, he pulled back, pink lips glistening. You pouted, hands still digging into his shoulders. 

“Not yet,” he whispered huskily, standing up and wiping at his wet face with a towel from the bar. 

“So is that how this works?” you asked, yanking down the hem of your dress as Jake leaned against the bar, sipping on his drink. “You go down on me for five seconds and then ask me to suck your cock?” 

“Is that what you want?” he asked, putting down his drink, inching closer, one hand on your throat, thumb over your pulse point, your neck turned up toward him, his green eyes shimmering. “My cock filling your mouth? Not sure how it’ll fit with all that sass you’ve got going on.” 

“Well you probably have a micropenis, so I’m sure it’ll fit with room to spare.” 

He laughed, taking your hand and sliding it down his chest and abdomen, your fingers tracing along his rock hard body, over his belt buckle, down to the impressive tent in his pants. He was massive, you could tell even over his pants. “Micro?” he asked. 

You shrugged, fingers still hot over the bulge beneath his belt. “I’m guessing two, three inches tops.” 

Jake grinned, undoing his belt, opening the first button of his fly and grabbing your much smaller hand, thrusting it down the front of his pants until you were met with the hot, pulsing length of his cock against your fingertips. You wrapped your fingers around it the best you could but he was thick and veiny and there was barely any room in his underwear to get a good grip. “More than three?” he asked. 

You looked up into his eyes. “Three and a half.” 

Jake’s smile turned into an open mouth moan as his eyes rolled back into his head when you used your other hand to push down his boxer briefs and the waistband of his pants, freeing his hard cock. It was hot in your hand as you rubbed your thumb over the tip, drawing the precum over the fat head of his cock and down his length, wrapping your fist around him the best you could, slowly pumping him a few times, letting his balls drag across the sides of your fingers when you pressed against his base. 

He opened his eyes and you smirked. “Not so bossy now, are you?” you asked. 

Jake raised his eyebrows. “You want to forget about your piece of shit fiancé?” 

“Ex-fiancé,” you corrected him. 

He nodded. “You want to forget about him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then get on your knees, sugar. Show daddy what you’re made of so I can treat you after.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” He did not. You let out a sigh, slowly sinking to your knees in front of Jake. He leaned over, grabbing a pillow from the silk couch. “Wait. Kneel on this.” He dropped the cushion on the ground and you knelt down, hands at your sides. “Come on, sweetheart. Take my cock in your mouth like a good girl. And then I’ll make you come.” 

He slid his pants and underwear down to the ground, stepping out of them and you leaned in, running one hand over his outer thigh, his thick cock staring you in the face. 

Jake threaded one hand into your hair as you lowered your mouth onto his tip, tongue brushing the underside of his cock as he groaned. “Oh, fuck, yeah, that’s good.” You slid his cock across your tongue until the tip hit the back of your throat as you gagged around his length. Pitching forward, placing both hands on his thighs, you bobbed up and down on his cock, letting spit pool in your mouth as you suctioned onto him, tasting his salty skin as Jake pulled you in, your nose brushing along his perfectly kept pubic hair. 

“Shit,” you muttered as you popped off of him for a second, eyes tearing up, before diving back in, sucking hard, pulling a moan from Jake’s mouth as he closed his eyes above you. 

“Fuck, God, shit come here.” Jake tugged at your hair, pulling you off of him, and you looked up, spit dripping from your mouth. “Come here,” he repeated, bending down, helping you to stand, pressing his mouth to yours, tasting himself on you. He walked you backward against the far wall of the room, his wet cock pressing against you and Jake’s large hands reached down, yanking up your dress, pulling it over your head. 

You were standing in front of him bare except for a pair of stilettos and he grabbed your thighs, lifting you up seamlessly, his lips landing on yours again as his cock nudged against your folds, your legs winding around his waist. He brushed against your core, the hot, pulsing tip of his cock threatening to split you apart, and you moaned into his mouth. 

Jake slid his lips down to your neck, sucking below your ear as you grinded your hips the best you could, trapped between him and the wall, desperate for more. “Greedy girl,” he whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe gently. “You want this cock, huh? Want me to fuck you against the wall until you’re creaming on me. Is that what you want?” 

“Yes,” you begged. “Please?” 

He was still wearing his shirt and you fumbled for the buttons, undoing them hastily, pushing it apart to reveal his perfectly chiseled chest. Jake carefully let you slip one arm out and then the other, never putting you down, until your chests were pressed together, your breasts molded onto him. 

“Jake,” you whined. 

“Such a fucking needy girl,” he muttered, rutting himself against you, pressing you further against the wall, his cock slipping over your folds, nudging at your clit. You yelped. “Knew the second I saw you that you’d like it fucking dirty. You would have let me fuck you right there at the bar, wouldn’t you?” 

“No,” you gasped as he reached down, spreading you apart with his fingers, placing the head of his cock at your entrance. 

“No?” He stopped moving, leaning back to look at you. 

You shook your head, breathless. “You were a serial killer, remember?” 

Jake laughed, sliding himself inside of you. 

You gasped, mouth falling open as Jake’s thick cock split you in two, filling every single inch of you, pressing you further up the wall as his hands held your waist tightly. 

He pushed in further, eliciting pants of pleasure from you as he held back from slamming against your cervix. “Fuck,” he muttered, his green eyes locked on you. “You’re so fucking tight.” 

“Oh, fuck.” 

“Hey, look at me,” he said gruffly and you lowered your chin, looking him square in the eye. He was all of the way inside of you and you had never felt so stuffed in your life. You hadn’t even known there was that much room inside of you until Jake had taken up residence inside your cunt. “You come when I say,” he commanded and you found yourself nodding. “This pussy belongs to me now.” 

And then he pulled back, slamming inside of you as you cried out in his arms, his fingertips digging into your waist and ass, holding you up as he fucked you against the wall, your back slamming against the ornate silk wallpaper as his cock brushed against the furthest recesses of your walls. “Fuck! Jake!” 

“Tell me when you’re going to come,” he grunted. 

You whimpered as Jake pulled you into his arms, yanking you from against the wall, crossing the room while still using his hands to pull your hips up and down against his cock, laying you down on the fluffy bed as he stood against the side, your feet now resting on his shoulders as he bent you over further, driving his cock deeper inside of you while you sobbed in pleasure. “Jake! I—” 

He pulled out of you in an instant and your eyes flew open, outraged. 

“What the?” 

His hand came out and slapped your puffy pussy lips. You looked up, stunned. “Get on the bed,” Jake demanded and you let your heels fall off, crawling back onto the middle of the bed, looking up in surprise. “Now come here.” 

Jake crawled until he was positioned over you, beautiful face looming only a few inches above you. 

“You’re going to make me come,” he whispered, “and then you get to come. Understand, princess?” 

You had two failed orgasms under your belt and you felt heat creeping up across your collarbones and onto your neck. Desperation clung to you as hard as you tried to shake it off. “Yes, daddy.” 

Jake’s eyes flashed. Was it power? Was it passion? Either way, he smoothed his hand over your breasts, down your stomach, thumb pressing down on your clit as you groaned. “Spread your legs.” 

You did as you were told and Jake lined himself up with your soaking entrance, pushing into you with one long thrust as your breath broke, your fingers reaching out and wrapping around his biceps. He pushed further into you, grunting lightly, picking up his pace, his cock brushing against your walls as you climbed toward an orgasm, writhing beneath him, whimpering. 

A scream started to build in your throat until it couldn’t be kept down any longer and you found yourself wailing, body vibrating as you teetered on the edge when Jake sat up, pulling your hips up over his thighs, fucking into you hard, his thumb pressing against your clit in tight circles. 

“Oh, oh God!” you shouted as you started to flex around him. “I’m going to come! Jake!” 

“Don’t come,” he demanded, pulling his thumb away, fingers tightening on your waist as he drove his cock further into you, feeling the warmth of your walls hugging him in tightly. “Fuck.” 

He dropped you down, pulling out and shooting hot, sticky cum across your bare tits as you whimpered below him, a series of loud grunts leaving his mouth as he fisted his cock, milking himself over you. 

Jake rolled over onto his back before getting up, grabbing a towel from the bar, handing it to you. You sat up, wiping at your bare chest. 

“Alright,” you said softly. “My turn?” 

He smirked. “Desperate, are we?” 

“No.” It was a lie and you both knew it. Jake leaned against the headboard, both hands behind his head, cock spent but already hard again, taunting you. 

You straddled his hips, your aching core hovering over him. “Say please.” 

“Please.” It was a thin, wretched whisper. You couldn’t believe you were begging a near-stranger to let you orgasm. In five years Michael had never put you in a position like this. 

“That’s my girl,” Jake whispered and a shudder of excitement ran down your spine. “Come here.” 

He watched as you sank onto his hard cock, letting out a sharp cry as he filled you again. You pitched forward, hands on his pecs, grinding yourself against him, bouncing up and down on him, using him. Jake gripped your waist, eyes trained on you as you tossed your head back in a moan. “Shit.” 

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” he whispered and your eyes snapped open, catching his. Jake smiled. “You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Hmm?” 

You nodded frantically, jaw dropping open when Jake’s hand skimmed down, thumb pressing against your clit as you leaned back. He circled your swollen bud, watching his cock disappear into you. “Jake, please, please, let me come, oh fuck it feels so good.” 

“Come on my cock,” he demanded, pressing down harder against your clit and you burst, letting out a loud cry, falling forward into Jake’s waiting arms as he thrust his hips up into you while you rode out your orgasm, your mouth biting against his shoulder as his hands stroked your bare back, pulling you down hard against him. 

Finally, he stilled and you pressed yourself back, arms shaky. Jake tucked a section of hair behind your ear. 

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he said and you blushed, suddenly incredibly aware that he was still inside of your throbbing cunt, his other hand holding your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your left hand was conspicuously bare, fingers digging into the flesh of his pec. 

“You’re just saying that so I blow you again,” you murmured, trying to roll off of him but Jake caught you, grounding you above him. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head, green eyes hard and demanding. “It’s the truth. I don’t make a habit of lying to one night stands for no reason.” His eyes grazed over your body. Covered in a thin sheen of sweat and semen and tears. You felt more alive than you had in years. Finally, he lifted you slowly off of his cock and you grunted as he slid out of you, your pussy aching and sore. Jake set you down gently on the bed next to him, standing up and crossing the room toward the bathroom, turning on the shower. “Join me?” 

You followed him into the marble bathroom. The shower was enormous, with no obvious door, just two half walls on either side of glass, with built-in seats on either side, a large silver shower head directly above you with a steady stream of water trickling down. Jake stepped in and held out a hand. You took it, letting him pull you in, the hot water falling over your face, letting Jake rub soap over your chest, down your stomach, between your legs. He turned you around, one hand on the wall, as he scrubbed over your back, pressing a kiss to the top of your ass, pushing himself against you until you could feel how hard he was. 

He grunted. “Fuck. I need you.” “Again?” you asked. Michael has been able to go once, maybe twice in a night. Jake was insatiable.

He nodded, chin dragging against your shoulder. “Go dry off.” 

You did as he said, sitting on the edge of the bed wearing only a towel wrapped around your waist, wet hair dripping down your back. Jake emerged a few minutes later, dropping the towel he had been using to dry his hair, perfect body glistening with water from the shower and on full display. He had chiseled abs that looked like they were carved out of stone and he grinned when you opened your legs wide, the edge of the towel not nearly long enough to cover your pussy. “How do you want me?” 

Jake stepped up to where you sat on the bed, reaching out and flicking at the knot in the towel, sending it flying on either side of you, leaving you bare in front of him. He fisted his cock, already hard, a few times before lining himself up with your entrance, pushing himself into your tired, swollen pussy as you laid back with a groan. 

“Oh, fuck!” 

Jake pulled out before slamming back into you, watching as his cock disappeared into your tight pussy. He put one hand on your lower stomach, groaning loudly as he felt his cock stretching you, creating a bulge where his hand was pressed against your skin. “Fucking Christ,” he muttered as you grabbed your own tits, whining below him, luxuriating in the delicious stretch of his cock inside of you. “You like that, don’t you?” he asked, sliding his other hand below your thigh, angling you back until he was thrusting deeper into you as you cried out. “Want me to break your fucking pussy in half, do you?” 

“Yes!” 

“Go on then,” he said. “Come on my cock. Show me how much you love it.” 

You let your head roll back, whiny sighs tumbling out of your mouth as Jake grabbed your waist, fucking you slow and deep, his pelvic bone brushing over your sensitive clit with every drag of his cock against your walls until you were shivering against him. “Fuck, I think I’m gonna come. Oh shit, Jake, now!” 

He leaned over, cock descending deeper into you, his voice rough as his lips brushed near your ear. “That’s it, baby girl. Show me how much you want me.” You let yourself fall over the edge, crying out his name on repeat, tears falling from the corners of your eyes as you felt Jake’s cock slide against your contracting walls, overstimulating you until you were whimpering and writhing beneath him. 

He leaned back, pulling out of you. “Come here.” 

You squinted, trying to let the spots fade from your vision, and watched as Jake stepped over toward the floor-to-ceiling window, his cock dripping wet. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said. “Make daddy happy.” 

You found yourself kneeling on the ground at his feet, both of Jake’s hands on the window, your bare ass pressed against the cold glass as your fingers found his waist, his cock thrust into your mouth. You could taste your own juices on him and he groaned immediately when you took him into your mouth, the mushroom tip of his cock bruising the back of your throat as he started to face fuck you. 

“Fuck, oh God, Y/N, just like that!” 

You gagged around his length, using your hands on his waist to pull him closer, letting saliva drip out of the corners of your mouth as tears streamed down your face, your mouth full as you attempted to suck along his veiny cock. He pulled back enough for you to take a deep breath, thrusting your tongue on the underside of his cock, making Jake’s hips jump, forcing his cock even deeper into your throat. 

“Fuck, baby, want to come in your mouth,” he whispered huskily. “Make you forget what it’s like not to have my cock in your mouth.” 

Your fingers tugged him closer and Jake leaned forward, crying out as his hips thrust forward, propelling his cock against your tongue and throat, hot, salty cum spilling into you. He fucked your mouth a few last times, his cries filling the room as his cock filled your mouth, and you let it drip down the sides of your mouth and into your neck and tits until he pulled out, resting his head against the cold glass window as you swallowed below him, your pussy wet where it was pressed against the wooden floor. 

“Fuck,” Jake muttered, finally opening his eyes. The sight of you below him, covered in his cum, chest heaving from exertion, a wet patch on the ground from where you had dripped your excitement onto the floor, practically sent him into a fit. He leaned down, pulling you up, dragging his thumb over your lip, collecting his cum from your face before feeding it between your lips. You sucked on him eagerly, swallowing as your eyes stayed glued on his. His cock, despite being spent, twitched in excitement. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” You let Jake use your towel to wipe the cum off of your tits and neck and face. 

Somehow, despite the fact that he was a stranger, it felt normal to slip under the sheets next to him, the lights of the city glittering below you from outside the window. Jake leaned over, pressing one large hand to your abdomen, skimming the bottom curve of your breast. “Still think I’m a serial killer?” he asked softly.

“Maybe,” you replied. “But at least you’re a good lay.” 

Jake chuckled, lying back and settling in. You rolled onto your side away from him and closed your eyes. 

When you opened them, it was light out. You reached out and Jake’s half of the bed was empty. Your dress from the night before was lying perfectly across the couch, panties folded on top, shoes set up neatly on the floor. You sat up, rubbing at your eyes, before spotting a piece of white cardstock on the writing desk against the wall. 

Hotel bar, 8pm. And this time, you get to come first. 

Tag list [using my list from The Off-Season since it's my most up-to-date Jake list but if you're not interested in these types of fics just let me know!):

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@teacupsandtopgun @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @blue-aconite @seresinhangmanjake @eminyourjeans @shawnsblue @babyminghao @sadpetalsstuff @angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @wkndwlff @mygyn @oneelleandaneye @averyhotchner @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @rxmtoon @valkyrja-siren-blog @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @clancycucumber230 @theharddeck @redbarn1995 @shanimallina87

@memeorydotcom @joaquinwhorres @bobfloydsbabe @gretagerwigsmuse

[trans-axolotl]

" “In the year 2024….” read the headline of an editor’s message in a 1970 issue of The Presidio, a publication out of the Iowa State Penitentiary. Even for people in prison, whose primary currency is time itself, the date felt far-fetched. Something so distant, it was more the setting of a science fiction novel than of a real-life possibility. Al Ware, the paper’s incarcerated editor, had just experienced the solar eclipse of the century, though Iowa was outside the range of the total eclipse. He whimsically mused on whether he’d be around for the next one—if he meant alive or still in prison is up for interpretation.

People travel for hundreds and thousands of miles to view total eclipses and consistently have difficulty describing the experience fully with just words. But even a partial eclipse can be a stunning spectacle. For those in prison, whose lives are often drudgery punctuated by fleeting moments of fear, being able to experience something collectively with people beyond the walls is the type of reprieve that buoys the psyche for quite some time.

I sat in prison for the partial eclipse of 2017. A far cry from how Florida prisons handled a total eclipse in 1970, the Federal Bureau of Prisons decided a dusk-like darkening of the sky was a security threat that warranted a total lock-down. Never mind that for half the year the sun set at dinner time, and we were allowed to continue going about our business, jogging on the rec yard, grabbing a book from the library, and just generally moving about the compound. Perhaps some nefarious actors would use the few minutes of diminished daylight in the middle of the day to orchestrate a prison break, or perhaps the reverse, introduce contraband.

It felt like my life came to a screeching halt the moment I was arrested. No longer did I feel like I was living, an active verb, I was merely existing. If I vanished off the face of the Earth, not a single thing would change in the world, so minimal was my presence, so isolated was my life. Headlines flashed across the television screens, one of my only tethers to the outside world. Floods in Houston, fires in California, a mass shooting in Miami. It was as if these events were happening in some other world, one to which I only had the narrowest window...

...And with that, she led us outside. She didn’t ask where the colander had come from, and I did not tell. Its round holes somehow cast crescent shadows, illuminating the laws of physics. The sky darkened but nothing like dusk, a bizarre energy filling the air—or perhaps it was the abject fear that I was risking time in the hole to watch odd-shaped shadows dance on the ground, unable to even look at the eclipse directly.

For days to come, we tried to explain to our friends what it felt like, what those colander hole shadows looked like. It was simply too difficult to describe.

Whether Al Ware is still around to see this eclipse—he would be eighty-two—is unknown. What is known is that at least a few hundred people that experienced the total solar eclipse from prison in the United States in 1970 are still in prison. The next total solar eclipse that can be seen from the contiguous US won’t be until 2044—and unless that’s your release date, I’m sure it feels just as abstract as 2024 felt to the men at the Iowa State Penitentiary back in 1970."

- Watching an Eclipse from Prison, by Morgan Godvin

[jacky93sims]

Presidio Tv Stand and Wall Shelves for The Sims 2

These are 4to2 conversions from Onyxium, low poly. Tv stand and Television are a single object, while shelves are separates. When you put the tv in your game it will have a grey screen for a moment but then it turns black (idem when sims turn off the tv). I put a bunch of bonsai on the shelves and stand slots to let you see the placement. 4 colors. See the original post for better pictures (I'm not good as an interior designer ahahah)

DOWNLOAD HERE

[thiswasinevitableid]

#6 indruck nsfw? (or sternclay but in that case probably not a Christmas-themed party)

I actually ended up going with Sternclay! Content note: smoking.

06. (1950s) I’m supposed to be at this Christmas-themed singles mixer to meet someone of the opposite sex but I can’t take my eyes off you

When he was a boy, Joseph’s winters were snow-coated. Tonight, there’s no white draping the hillsides; it’s just heaps of cold, gray fog, so thick that it’s only because he just crossed it that he knows the bridge to San Francisco is even there. 

The party isn’t his idea; it’s his mothers, even though she’s hundreds of miles away. When he jokingly pointed out that if she wanted him to meet a nice, Jewish girl, a Christmas mixer wasn’t the best place for it, she’d gone quiet a moment. 

“What I want is you happy. I don’t care much how that’s managed, just that you are.” Her tone tries to lighten, “after all, I met your father in a movie theater.”

What she meant was that she’d sat down on him accidentally in the dark when she was supposed to sit in the next seat over. His father always jokes that true love just fell into his lap.

He turns the car down a street of tall houses bejeweled in colored lights. As empty curb sides become scarce, he decides he must be close to the Owen’s house and pulls into the next empty space. A quick glance in the rear view mirror to straighten his tie and run a hand over his hair, and then he steps onto the sidewalk. 

431 Washington Drive is lit up even brighter than its neighbors, laughter and music reaching him while he’s still two houses away. He follows a pair of young women in red and white dresses up to the door and smiles at Mrs. Owens as she welcomes him in. 

“Joseph! Oh I’m so glad you made it, Louisa was just telling me how terrible the traffic is tonight.”

“It wasn’t too bad, and I was looking forward to tonight too much to miss it.” 

She takes his coat and hangs it by the door, then waves for him to follow her into the living room. A table sporting more food than a grocery store sits against the far wall, a tall, tastefully decorated tree stands in the corner, and the fireplace crackles beneath the clinking of glasses. 

He’s only fifteen minutes late, but pairs and quartets are already forming, and as he walks to where Alex Owens is tending the bar, he counts the number of women eyeballing the room with the same searching gaze he is and doesn’t love his odds when it comes to meeting his true love tonight. 

“Finally decided to try your luck huh?” Mr.Owens slides a martini glass to the man on Joseph’s left, “This is Joe, used to work at the Presidio with me. Joe, this is Rick, Jerry, and, oh, Cynthia, come over here” he waves until a woman with brown curls and a green dress joins them, “this is Joe, the guy I was telling you about. He’s real swell, plus” Owens pats his shoulder, “he’s the real deal; got a medal of honor and everything.”

Cynthia casts an interested smile his way, “You must have done something very brave.”

“I don’t understand. I thought we weren’t involved with the war?”

The man on the other side of the desk looks at Joseph as if he’s a child who still believes in fairies, “We are not at this time. But we have to take all possible measures to be sure we’re prepared for all possible outcomes. And you come recommended to us by the head of our Japanese translation project.”

Well, that confirms his theory that the program isn’t just to train people for diplomatic purposes. 

“Tell me, Mr. Stern, how many languages do you speak?”

“Four, sir, if we count English. Then it’s German, Japanese, and Korean.”

“An interesting combination.”

“I learned two from my family, and Japanese from a neighbor who used to babysit me-”

“And you’re confident in your ability to speak all these languages as well as a native?”

“Yes. If you’re in need of translation in other languages I’m certainly happy to help.”

The man across the table looks at him again. Joseph looks at the desk, searching for any sign of what the man’s name is.

“We need people who are willing to enter German-controlled territory. Including people who could pose as Japanese allies of Germany. Something you could do easily.”

Joseph wants to point out the flaws in that assumption but decides not to get into an argument with someone who seems like he could make him disappear. 

“Are you asking me to be a spy?”

“Perhaps.”

“I, I suppose I’m flattered, sir, but I’m just a nobody clerk who happens to be good with languages.”

The man stands, opens a drawer, and slides a manila folder across the table. Joseph opens it to find five, familiar names on immigration visas.

“Am I correct, Mr. Stern, that those are your family members who fled Germany?”

“Yes, sir. We’ve tried everything we can to get them out, they’re stuck in France and my mother and grandparents are worried sick.”

The man looks at him and he understands how a fly must feel in a web.

“If you accept our offer, those visas will be issued tomorrow.”

“I’m afraid my work overseas is still classified.” He plasters on a smile, “Besides, I’m sure you’re much more interesting than all that ancient history.”

Over the next thirty minutes, he proceeds to have some variation of this conversation four separate times. Each woman he chats with is perfectly nice, and two seem to think he’s very charming, but nothing compels him to keep talking other than the sense it’s what he should do. 

He excuses himself to the punch bowl, internally cursing Owens for telling everyone his name is Joe. He’s Joseph, Joseph Stern, serial number–

No, none of that tonight. Breaking down and ruining someone’s nice Christmas mixer is the antithesis of being polite. 

He’s distracted enough getting his mind right that he doesn’t notice the hand going for the ladle alongside his own. 

“Oh!” He pulls it back with a start, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I was busy making sure the record didn’t need to be flipped.” An apologetic smile parts and auburn tinged beard and Joseph’s tongue forgets how to make words.

How did he not notice him before? How has the whole room not noticed him and devoted their attention to him? The man is actually taller than him, with hair the same color as his beard and full lips that Joseph wants to sink his teeth into. His deep brown eyes remind Joseph of coffee, warm and soothing as they glitter with the lights from the tree. It’s only when they blink, concerned, that Joseph realizes he’s been staring. 

“No harm done. Here, let me get some for us both.” He ladles out two glasses, passes one over and extends his hand, “I’m Joseph.”

“Barclay.” The hand around his own is warm and big, god what a man could do with hands like that, “are you, uh, enjoying the party?”

“Yes. But between you and me,” he lowers his voice to a whisper, “so far the food is my favorite part.”

“Really? Did you have a favorite?” 

“Those little slices with the salmon mousse. Or the round cookies, those ones, I think they’re called wedding cookies-”

“Uhuh, that one’s an old family recipe.”

“You made them?”

“I made everything except the dips. Mrs. Owens reigns over those let me tell you..”

Joseph stares at the veritable feast of small bites, “All the rest? God, it’d take me a week to do all this.”

Barclay’s smile turns shy, “Nah, it’s not all that hard. A lot of rolling deli meat and sticking toothpicks in things.” His voice is so deep Joseph wants to dive into it and never surface. 

“Mrs. Owens should still count herself lucky that you were around. Are you a friend of the family?” He steps away from the table to let others get a drink, and Barclay moves right along with him. 

“Yeah. I, um, I help them out with things like this.” Barclay stares into his glass and Joseph understands. 

“You’re from the program.”

Barclay winces, “Is it that obvious?”

“No. You were a suit better than anyone here.”

“Not sure that’s true.” Barclay gives him a pointed, appreciative look.

Joseph sips his drink with a smile, “What I mean is, I put it together from the fact you seem sort of separate from everyone even though every woman at this place should be flocking to you.”

Barclay goes pink and all Joseph can think about is chasing the color down his throat and across his chest with his tongue. Then the other man sighs, “Maybe they would, but you’re not the only one who pegged me. Turns out when they find out you did time, most people suddenly have somewhere else to be. You’re the only person who’s said more than two words to me after you worked it out.”

“From what I’ve seen, most people wind up in jail for things that pale in comparison to the real evil of the world.” (And if anyone talks down to Barclay in his earshot they’re getting a shiner that will last a week.”

Barclay raises his eyebrows, “Thought all that was classified.”

“You heard me say that?”

“No, Mrs. Owens was chatting with one of the other guests about it. Oh, here, do you want to sit down?” He tilts his elbow at the small couch near the tree, then moves a pillow out of the way so Joseph can sit first. 

“Yes, well, everyone is very interested in my time overseas.”

“What do you do now?”

His glass pauses halfway to his lips, “you’re the first person to ask that all night.”

Barclay frowns but continues waiting for his reply.

“I teach at the University in Berkeley. Languages, mostly,  for the college of applied arts.”

“Fuck, that sounds terrifying.” Barclay actually covers his mouth, “sorry, we’re not supposed to swear around company.”

Joseph shrugs, “I don’t give a shit”  This marks his greatest accomplishment of the week: making Barclay laugh.

“Now, what was that about my work being terrifying?”

“Having to stand in front of all those people, with all those eyes on you” he shudders, “And be ready to answer any question from people who are convinced they already know everything? No, thank you.”

“I’d say it helps to picture everyone naked but it really doesn’t.”

“Hmm, I guess picturing yourself naked doesn’t work any better.”

“No, but I do have a dream like that at least once a week.”

“Freaky. I have one about trying to make a souffle with only an apron for cover. Which I guess could be scarier if, like, I was cooking bacon or deep frying something.”

Joseph snickers to distract himself from the idea of Barclay in nothing but an easily yanked off apron. 

“Do you cook for a living?”

“Yeah, I’m over at Bettys in Berkeley. Spent most of my life cooking at Amnesty Lodge but, uh, the whole” he mimes a key locking a door, “took me away from there.

“It’s not in the city?”

“Nah, it’s a couple hours up the coast. Have you ever gone up there?”

“From what I hear I’m a bit too square for that neck of the woods.”

Barclay moves a centimeter close, “If you ever wanna go, you can take a ride with me. I’ll make sure no one razzes you too bad.”

The conversation winds here and there, stopping only so they can cede their seats to a couple that’s ten seconds from doing something indecent and to refill their plates. Joseph knows this isn’t what he’s here for, that at this point he doesn’t want to speak or even look at anyone beside Barclay for the rest of the night. 

Fuck it. There will be other singles mixers. Other parties. But there’s no guarantee Barclay will be at any of them. 

As they’re stepping onto the back porch for some air, they’re waylaid by another guest who wants to thank Joseph for his bravery and tell him about his brother who never came home. Joseph offers thanks and condolences in the appropriate order, then excuses himself to the darkest corner of the deck. Barclay joins him, taking a position that means Joseph isn’t immediately visible to people coming out of the house. 

Joseph’s nerves get the better of him, “Do you have a cigarette?” 

Barclay pulls a box from his inside pocket, “I don’t smoke, but having these is a great way to make all the other cooks like me if I’m somewhere new.”

Joseph takes one, leans in so Barclay can light it for him, protecting it from the ocean wind with his hand. 

He takes a drag, then sighs, “I barely do it anymore. But sometimes I…well, I guess it’s this or running screaming into the hills.” 

Barclay tucks the packet away with a sympathetic expression. 

Joseph exhales, leaning his arms on the deck rail, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.” Barclay mimics his pose, so close their forearms rest against each other and Joseph tries to burn the memory of that feeling into his mind. 

“A lot of my work isn’t classified. I just don’t want to talk, or think, about any of it ever again.”

Barclay gently brushes their hands together, “Why tell a nobody cook that?”

Joseph looks at him and says, with more conviction than he’s felt about anything in months, “Because you aren’t a nobody. You’re talented at what you do, you talk about the people you love like you actually love them, and I haven’t felt so safe, so happy, around someone in a long, long time.”  Reality creeps in from the darkness and sighs, “maybe that’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t think so.” Barclay’s voice is barely a whisper, but his eyes burn with something hopeful and fragile. 

He crushes out the cigarette and straightens, “You said you lived on the Oakland border. Can I give you a ride home?”

“If it’s not too much of a hassle.”

“Not even close.”

“Then yeah, that’d be swell.”

Joseph smiles, “In that case, let’s agitate the gravel, as the kids say.”

He thanks the Owens’ for a lovely time, explains he’s offering Barclay a ride so he doesn’t have to worry about buses and railcars so late at night. As he steers the Chrysler onto the main road, Barclay fiddles with the radio until Peggy Lee croons about winter weather. Joseph steals glances of Barclay’s profile bathed in the lights of town all the way across the bay. 

“Would you like to stop at my place for coffee? We don’t have to, I could-”

“I’d love to.” Barclay smiles almost flirtatiously in the dark cab. 

There are two parties going on further down the street when he pulls into his driveway, but all the houses immediately surrounding his are dark. Barclay follows him inside, offering genuine compliments to his decor as Joseph starts the coffee.

“Oh damn, are those fruit trees?” Barclay peers out a window to the back yard.

“A lemon, two pears, and an apple. I planted them when I bought this place.”

“Seems kinda big for just you. Or do you split it with someone?”

He shakes his head, “Just me. I bought it thinking I’d be married within a year. Four years ago.”

“You ever thought about a roommate in the meantime? I must get lonely.” Barclay sounds concerned, as if he finds the idea of Joseph spending day after day padding through an empty house feeling like a ghost genuinely distressing. 

He glances at Barclay, “I’m considering it.”

Barclay nods, manages to locate the cups on his first try and pulls two down. 

“Barclay? You don’t have to tell me but…what were you arrested for.”

The cook runs his thumb along the handle of a blue mug, “Forgery. But not, uh, not money. Me and a few other people made fake visas to get people out of Germany. Before the war even really started. We got away with it for a while but then something went wrong and we got found out. I took the blame for the whole operation; I didn’t want my friends going to jail. And I, I figured if they could reform the group, they could maybe get more people out.” He chuckles, “only reason I didn’t do even more time was my friend sprung for a really good lawyer.”

Joseph turns the coffee pot off and steps towards him, “I’m going to ask something else. You can say no if you want but if you do please don’t tell anyone what I asked.”

“O-kay?”

“Can I kiss you?”

The apprehension evaporates from Barclay’s face, “Fuck, thought you’d never ask.” He reaches out and drags Joseph to him by his lapels. It’s a lightning strike, his whole body alive and burning in ways he’s never felt. He wants to feel it forever, do it forever, even if all that’s left at the end is his ashes. 

His hands find Barclays hair and burrow into it, clinging to him even as the cook pulls back.

“You’re giggling, baby.”

“It’s, it’s the beard. It actually tickles.”

Barclay smirks, “You usually take your men clean shaven?”

“I….I usually don’t take men at all. Not for lack of wanting to just, for so long if anyone found out they’d fire me or stop trusting me and there was a lot, and I mean a lot riding on me succeeding.”

“If this is gonna get you in trouble-”

“I know there are at least two men in my department who are living together and are as good as married. They’ve taught there for years. But more importantly” he cups Barclay’s face, “I do not fucking care. I’ve given so much for so many people and right now I want to take the one goddamn thing in the world I want.”

Barclay growls playfully, “You’re a real smooth talker, baby. Let you take me any time, anywhere.”

“Bedroom. Now.”

The cook laughs as Joseph drags him down the hall and flicks on his light. When he reclines on the bed, hands behind his head and rumbles, “how do you want me?” Joseph pauses. 

“I…I don’t know. Shit, I have no idea how to do this.”

“Not like there’s a rulebook.” Barclay holds out his hand, guides Joseph to sit on the bed once he takes it, “all I know is I wanna make you feel like a fucking king. After that, everything else is just icing on the cake.”

Joseph glances at the zipper of Barclay’s fly, “Could I blow you?”

“Do you really want to?”

“Yes, badly.”

Barclay quickly undoes his pants and struggles to get his jacket off as Joseph yanks them down to his ankles. His cock is soft beneath his underwear and feels perfect in his hand as he cups it. He’s jerked off plenty, so he uses that as his starting point, rubbing and stroking the shaft until it hardens in his hand. Barclay is already coming undone, has given up on unbuttoning his shirt to tug at the blankets and make pleading grabs in Joseph’s direction. 

“Good?” He smirks as a harder stroke makes Barclay yelp and buck his hips. 

“Uhhuh, so good, aces, baby, baby, fuck you could keep doing that and I’d be in fucking heaven.”

“Not a chance, big guy.” He rubs lazy circles around the head of Barclays cock, pre-cum collecting on his thumb, “you’re in my house and I get to do whatever I want to you.”

Barclay moans loud and long, thrusting into Joseph’s grip.

“And what I want is to blow you until you’re a sobbing mess. Is, is that alright? Talking like that?”

“Do not stop I swear to god.”

He laughs, scooching back so he can lay between Barclay’s legs, “Noted, big guy.” He studies the cock before him, concocting a dozen plans of approach before throwing them all aside and taking as much of it down his throat as he can. 

“Fuck!” Barclay’s thighs tense beautifully on either side of him, “oh god, Joseph-”

“Hands on the blanket, I don’t want you mussing my hair.” He’s not sure why he says it, only that there’s a double thrill in his chest as he does and as Barclay obeys instantly. He licks a stripe up his cock, then returns his attention to the head, sucking and swirling his tongue in whatever ways elicit the most intense reactions from the man beneath him.

“J-Joseph, I’m really close, I, should I-”

“You’re not cumming on me unless you earn it. I can’t stand messes.” He sits up, grabbing the handkerchief from his inside pocket, “so tonight-”

“AH, ahgod, ohfuck” Barclay grins as Joseph jerks him off, “fuck baby that’s so fucking hotah.” He cums in the dark fabric, panting out thank yous as Joseph takes the time to wipe his whole cock clean. Next time he’ll do it with his tongue, assuming Barclay is very good and earns his reward. 

“Please let me touch you?” The request is shy, almost hesitant, and so Joseph takes time to kiss Barclay on each cheek and his gorgeous mouth before standing to take off his slacks. 

“Of course, big guy. How do you want me?”

“Uhhhhh” Barclay stares at Joseph’s cock poking out from under his shirt, “Uh, I mean, can, can you straddle my chest?”

Joseph settles his knees on either side of Barclay. Then his hands whack into the wall as the cook strokes his cock. 

“Wanted to see you like this all night.” Barclay murmurs, free hand reaching up for Joseph’s face, “want to see you every way there is. God, how did none of those gals scoop you up and run off with you. You look like a fucking movie star.”

“Barclay” It’s a whimper, the compliments seeping into his skin to warm him. 

“I wanna make you happy, be so good you’ll wanna, wanna stay in bed all day, fuck, I’m babbling I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, god that’s good.”

Barclay sits up enough to lick the head of his cock, “that’s it baby, relax for me, let go, I’m here, gonna take such good care of you.” Another lick and he’s done for, cumming with a surprised gasp across Barclay’s face. 

He looks down at the cook, who’s wearing a pleased grin.

“I misspoke earlier. I do like something of mine messy: you.”

Barclay laughs, dragging him down into a hug even as he tries to help him clean his face, “I call bullshit on you never doing this before. You’re apple butter smooth to the last.”

“I really haven’t. All that just now I, I didn’t know I had it in me. But being with you made it seem so easy.”

“No kidding.” Barclay chuckles as Joseph uses his sleeve to clean the last of the cum, “hard to find a guy who’ll boss me around but still take care of me. Believe me, I tried.”

“Glad I could provide.”  Joseph rests his head on Barclay’s chest, peace washing over him in unfamiliar waves. 

“Hey, Barclay? Have you ever thought of being someones roommate?”

[airlinestravelnews]

Discover the Secret Treasures of San Francisco, California

Introduction

San Francisco, California, often hailed as the cultural and technological hub of the West Coast, is a city teeming with history, diversity, and innovation. While many travelers flock to its iconic landmarks like the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz Island, there exists a world of hidden gems waiting to be discovered by the adventurous and curious.

History and Culture

San Francisco's rich history dates back to the Gold Rush era of the mid-19th century when it transformed from a small settlement to a bustling metropolis. Its cultural landscape is equally diverse, shaped by waves of immigrants from around the globe. From the vibrant Chinatown to the colorful Mission District, each neighborhood adds its own flavor to the city's tapestry.

Hidden Gems in San Francisco

Off-the-beaten-path neighborhoods

Exploring neighborhoods like the Castro, Hayes Valley, and the Outer Sunset reveals a side of San Francisco that often goes unnoticed by tourists. Quirky boutiques, hole-in-the-wall cafes, and street art adorn these streets, offering a glimpse into the city's creative underbelly.

Unique landmarks and attractions

While the Golden Gate Bridge and Fisherman's Wharf are must-see attractions, lesser-known sites like the Sutro Baths ruins and the Wave Organ offer a more intimate and offbeat experience.

Lesser-known dining spots and eateries

From food trucks to hidden supper clubs, San Francisco's culinary scene is a treasure trove of flavors waiting to be explored. Dive into the city's diverse cuisine, from authentic dim sum in Richmond to gourmet food trucks in SoMa.

Artistic and creative hubs

The city's artistic spirit is alive and well in its numerous galleries, studios, and performance spaces. Attend a poetry slam in the Tenderloin or explore the vibrant street art scene in the Mission District for a taste of San Francisco's creative pulse.

Outdoor Adventures

Exploring natural landscapes

Escape the urban hustle and bustle by immersing yourself in the natural beauty of San Francisco. Hike through the Presidio, bike along the scenic coastal trails, or simply relax in one of the city's many parks.

Outdoor activities and recreational opportunities

From kayaking in the bay to surfing at Ocean Beach, San Francisco offers endless opportunities for outdoor adventure. Join a guided tour or strike out on your own to discover hidden coves, secluded beaches, and stunning vistas.

Parks and gardens worth visiting

Golden Gate Park, with its lush gardens, tranquil lakes, and world-class museums, is a sanctuary in the heart of the city. Explore its hidden corners, from the Japanese Tea Garden to the botanical wonders of the Conservatory of Flowers.

Local Entertainment and Events

Live music venues and nightlife

San Francisco's music scene is legendary, with venues ranging from intimate jazz clubs to historic concert halls. Catch a live show at the Fillmore, dance the night away in the Mission, or discover underground bands in the city's dive bars.

Festivals and events throughout the year

From the iconic Pride Parade to the eclectic Outside Lands music festival, San Francisco hosts a wide range of events year-round. Check local listings for art fairs, street festivals, and cultural celebrations happening during your visit.

Cultural performances and shows

Immerse yourself in the vibrant cultural scene of San Francisco with a visit to the theater or a dance performance. From Broadway productions to experimental avant-garde theater, there's something for every taste and interest.

Insider Tips for Exploring San Francisco

Transportation options and navigating the city

Take advantage of San Francisco's public transportation system, including buses, trams, and cable cars, to navigate the city like a local. Consider renting a bike or scooter for shorter trips, or simply explore on foot to soak in the sights and sounds of the city.

Budget-friendly ways to experience San Francisco

San Francisco can be an expensive city to visit, but there are plenty of ways to experience its charms on a budget. Look for free or discounted admission days at museums, pack a picnic for lunch in the park, and take advantage of happy hour specials at local bars and restaurants.

Safety tips and precautions for travelers

Like any major city, San Francisco has its share of tourist traps and safety concerns. Stay aware of your surroundings, especially in crowded areas, and keep your belongings secure to avoid pickpocketing and theft. Stick to well-lit and populated areas at night, and trust your instincts if something feels off.

Conclusion

San Francisco is a city of endless discovery, where every street corner holds the promise of adventure and intrigue. Whether you're a first-time visitor or a seasoned traveler, there's always something new to uncover in this vibrant and eclectic metropolis. So pack your bags, hit the streets, and prepare to be amazed by the secret treasures of San Francisco, California.

Unique FAQs:

Q: Are there any hidden beaches in San Francisco?

A: Yes, San Francisco is home to several hidden beaches, including Marshall's Beach and China Beach, which offer stunning views and secluded spots for relaxation.

Q: What's the best time of year to visit San Francisco?

A: While San Francisco enjoys mild weather year-round, the best time to visit is typically during the spring or fall when the crowds are thinner, and the weather is pleasantly mild.

Q: Are there any ghost tours in San Francisco?

A: Yes, San Francisco offers several ghost tours that explore the city's haunted history, including visits to haunted hotels, cemeteries, and historic sites.

Q: Can I visit Alcatraz Island?

A: Yes, Alcatraz Island is open to visitors and offers guided tours of the infamous former prison. Be sure to book your tickets in advance as tours often sell out quickly.

Q: What's the best way to get around San Francisco?

A: San Francisco has a comprehensive public transportation system, including buses, trams, and cable cars, which makes it easy to navigate the city without a car. Additionally, biking and walking are popular and eco-friendly options for exploring the city.

[alexmmx]

SF - Presidio Woods - 1991 This is the southern side of the formal Army base as those are the $$$$$$ Rich Homes of Pacific Street Side as it is border by a Stone Wall from the 1880's. There is a pathway that will lead to the Presidio Golf Course Parking lot. But it also has the grand green flat way as in 1906 about thousands of Quake refugees were camp out until the fires were out. Camera - Nikon Ftn with a 35mm F/2.8 Nikkor lens Film - EXPIRED TMax3200 BW 35mm

[iamdrakovi]

Embark on a historical voyage through Tucson with me and my loyal companion, Lillie. Explore the essence of a city close to my heart, as we seamlessly intertwine its rich history with the present. If you share a love for Tucson, your read is sincerely welcomed!

Journal Entry (Part I) - August 20, 2023

As the sun dipped below the Arizona horizon on Founder's Day, I found myself caught in a temporal current, my senses tingling with the unmistakable energy of a time portal. With Lillie, my loyal blue-nose companion, by my side, we stepped into the unknown, leaving the familiar hum of 2023 behind.

The transition was swift, the world around me morphing from urban sprawl to the rugged terrain of 1775. The scent of dust and distant fires filled the air as I stood within the nascent Presidio of San Agustín del Tucson. Lt. Colonel Don Hugo O'Connor and Lt. Juan De Carmona moved purposefully nearby, discussing the layout of this northernmost outpost of Spain.

Lillie, ever alert, sensed the shift, her ears perked as she surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. The landscape held an untamed beauty, the echo of Native American contributions still resonating through the uncharted streets. The clash of cultures was palpable, a dance between tradition and the encroaching wave of colonization.

I marveled at the simplicity of life in 1775, the absence of skyscrapers replaced by adobe structures, and the distant sounds of Spanish commands. The Tucson of yesteryears was a canvas waiting to be painted with the strokes of time.

Wandering through the Presidio, I marinated in the authenticity of history. The clash of cultures played out before my eyes—the intricate tapestry of Native American wisdom blending with the imposing shadow of European influence. The air buzzed with the promise of a city yet to emerge.

Lillie and I traversed the streets marked by Church Ave., Washington St., Main Ave., and Pennington St., witnessing the birth of Tucson beneath the canvas of a desert sky. The taste of the past lingered on my tongue—a mixture of dusty air and the distant hope that history would remember the voices that shaped it.

In the quiet moments, I pondered the committee's debate over the ethnocentric choice of Founder's Day. The complexities of identity, like shadows on the adobe walls, played out in real-time. It wasn't just a journey through time; it was an immersion into the struggles and triumphs of a community finding its voice.

As the temporal currents pulled me back to 2023, I couldn't shake the profound connection between the two eras. Founder's Day had become more than a celebration; it was a bridge connecting past and present. The challenge now lay in carrying the wisdom of history into the future, embracing our roots, and nurturing a world where the echoes of both timelines harmonized in the dance of progress.

Journal Entry (Part II) - August 20, 2023

The temporal currents seized hold once more, whisking Lillie and me away from the Spanish-infused air of 1775 Tucson, propelling us further into the depths of history. The landscape transformed again, revealing a Tucson untouched by European influence, a canvas painted solely by the hands of the Hohokam people.

As we materialized in the year 800 AD, the contrast was stark—a Tucson in its infancy, a vibrant village nestled in the embrace of the desert. The air was thick with the scent of juniper and mesquite, and the ground beneath my feet bore the imprints of a people connected intimately with the land.

Lillie's curiosity matched my own as we wandered through the Hohokam village. Adobe structures, humble yet resilient, stood in harmony with the natural contours of the landscape. The air resonated with the hum of communal life, a tapestry woven by the hands of those who understood the delicate dance between earth and existence.

The Hohokam people moved with purpose, their daily lives intertwined with agricultural rhythms and celestial observations. I watched in awe as they cultivated the land, utilizing advanced irrigation systems that hinted at a profound understanding of nature's cycles. The vibrant hues of their pottery told stories of artistry passed down through generations.

In the heart of the village, a communal gathering unfolded. The elders shared wisdom with the younger generation, a sacred exchange that echoed through time. The air buzzed with the sounds of conversation, laughter, and the shared heartbeat of a people grounded in their traditions.

As I observed this ancient Tucson, the weight of responsibility pressed upon me. The Hohokams had found a delicate balance with the earth, a harmony that spoke of sustainability and respect for the interconnected web of life. In their simplicity, I found a profound wisdom, a lesson echoing through the ages to our modern, bustling world.

Lillie, ever attuned to the energies surrounding us, seemed to sense the significance of this encounter. Her presence among the Hohokams felt like a bridge connecting canine companionship across the epochs. We were not just witnesses; we were participants in a dialogue between two eras.

As the temporal currents once again tugged us back to 2023, I carried with me the vivid images of an ancient Tucson, the legacy of the Hohokam people etched in the fabric of time. The challenge ahead was clear—to honor the lessons of the past, to intertwine the wisdom of the Hohokams with the complexities of the present, and to shape a future where the roots of understanding and respect ran deep.

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Chronicles of Tucson: A Dance Through Time on Founder's Day by Drakovi Bloodrose

These two journal entries is my heartfelt exploration of Tucson, a city I hold dear to my soul. Fueled by an artist's passion, an herbalist's connection to nature, and a writer's desire to weave tales, I embarked on time-traveling journeys with my loyal companion, Lillie.

My love for Tucson and its vibrant community is the driving force behind these narratives. Founder's Day, a celebration that resonates with the beating heart of the city, inspired me to delve into the depths of its history. In traversing the timelines of 1775 and 800 AD, I sought to uncover the layers that compose Tucson's identity, to understand how the past continues to shape its present.

Every word penned in these entries reflects my admiration for the complexities of Tucson's identity. The clash of Spanish influence in the Presidio era and the harmonious coexistence with the Hohokam people in 800 AD are not just historical snapshots but vibrant scenes etched in my love for this community.

Through the lens of a time traveler, I aimed to capture not only the visuals but the essence of each era—the scents, tastes, and sensations that make Tucson a living, breathing entity. This isn't just a recounting of the past; it's a call to action, urging us to honor our roots, appreciate the contributions of diverse communities, and collectively shape a future where Tucson's beauty lies in deep connections.

If you enjoyed this read, please check out more at my blog "Simply Drakovi" below!

As I share these narratives, I hope to inspire a collective appreciation for the unique spirit that defines Tucson. May these words serve as a reminder to cherish and preserve the timeless essence that makes this city truly remarkable.

[metamoonshots]

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[shahananasrin-blog]

[ad_1] SAN FRANCISCO (KRON) – Pickleball is stirring up controversy in San Francisco’s Presidio Heights neighborhood. A resident created a petition complaining about the noise from the popular sport. Neighbors from behind the Presidio Wall pickleball courts have complained and actually made a petition against the sound that comes from these courts, but people who play there daily say the sound doesn’t travel very far. “It’s pretty self-contained, and the court noise is only at certain times of day too. I don’t think it’s disruptive,” said Lucas Ho, who plays at the courts.  With pickleball becoming all the rage, San Francisco has opened public pickleball courts throughout the city to make it more accessible. Time running out to remove sailboat stuck at Stinson Beach “I love it, just got the pickleball bug and it is hella fun. The community is awesome,” said Zane Roshe, another player.  When the Presidio Wall courts get busy, you can hear the “pock-pock” pickleball sound from a block away. It’s become a nuisance for one Presidio Heights resident who created a petition on change.org called “Halt Pickleball Play on Presidio Wall Courts for Proper Environmental Impact Assessment”. It was created Saturday, but when you go to click on the petition now the website says the petition isn’t available, because it either violated community guidelines or the starter removed it. Word about this petition was circulating on the court Thursday. The San Francisco Parks and Recreation Department does plan to add more pickleball courts across the city to ease crowding at existing courts. Department leaders say they are aware of the petition and they are working with neighbors and the pickleball community to find appropriate compromises.  Players say everyone leaves by dusk so it shouldn’t be too disruptive. “I don’t really see how the noise is enough of an issue that it bothers people regularly, because there is no lights here so that limits the time,” Ho said.  While standing above the pickleball courts, KRON4 could hear the game. It’s not too loud but neighbors who live there say it really echoes through the neighborhood and that’s what’s frustrating.  No neighbors wanted to be on camera. KRON4 even reached out to the woman who made the petition but she did not get back to us in time for this report. [ad_2]

[leanstooneside]

Indulging weakness, even when you know it will damage your health and happiness

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21. our tradition

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25. their feeling they

26. its activities

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34. reader's attention

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36. its quality; professionals

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39. people's stuff

40. your language

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46. target's soul

47. Southern California's Annenberg Center

[freddbeny]

Discover the Finest Presidio Linear Outdoor Lantern Lights - Lighting Reimagined

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[solnunquamoccidit]

Plano y explicación del Real Astillero de la Habana en la Ysla de Cuba y de sus inmediaciones (Anonymous, c. 1747)

1. Puerta de entrada al Arsenal 2. Recinto del Arsenal 3. Cadena de madera para cerrar el Arsenal 4. Cuerpo de Guardia y quarto para Rondines 5. Casa de la Subinspección y demás dependencias 6. Casa del Comandante del Arsenal y demás dependenias de Yd. 7. Plaza de Armas 8. Estacadas 9. Tinglado para depósito y bentilación de escaleras 10. Obradores de Fundición, Armeros y Faroleros 11. Cocinas para Marineros Presidio y Brea 12. Obradores para Carpinteros de lo Blanco Escultores Cerrajerros Erreros Pintores Jalabarteros Yladero de Estopa y Despensa 13. Sierra de Agua con un desagüe al Mar 14. Cobertizo de tablas para depósito de Medicinas 15. Laboratorio de Medicinas del Hospital 16. Cobertizo provisional para abrigo de las Cureñas 17. Tinglado de dos cuerpos de bajo para Quartel de Presidiarios y el alto para Hospital y sus dependencias 18. Cocinas para el Hospital 19. Manzana de dos cuerpos, el bajo para Obrador de Arboladura y depósito de maderas, el alto para Patio de Gálibos, Obrador de Velas y Suplemento del hospital 20. Tinglado para Obrador de Tondería y Almacén de Excluido 21. Obrador para barrenar Bombas depósito de maderas y barias Embarcaciones menores y Alojamto. de barios Oficiales de Mar 22. Almacén Ynútil de mampostería 23. Obrador de Recorrido 24. Tinglado cuyo centro sirbe para los géneros del Almacén General y los Corredores para Alojamientos de Rondines y efectos de cargo del Astillero, y Contramaestre del Arsenal 25. Comisaría del Astillero Ynterbención y Almacén General 26. Parque de Artillería 27. Cañería para la Aguada de los Buques 28. Muelle 29. Grada de Navío inútil 30. Ydem para Navíos y Fragatas 31. Dos Tinglados construidos en el sitio de una Grada arruinada 32. Grada de cajón en su embocadura para Navíos de primer orden 33. Grada inútil para embarcaciones menores 34. Tinglados para depósito de efecttos del Almacén General 35. Abittación del Comandante de Yngenieros 36. Cobertizo para despacho de Yngenieros y casilla de herramientas 37. Cañería para surtir de agua la Ciudad 38. Cobertizo para los efectos de cargo de las gradas obras Civiles y Depósito de Betunes. 39. Parte del Recinto de la Habana 40. Parte del Varrio de Jesús María 41. Factoría de Tabacos en dicho Varrio 42. Bajo formado para el desagüe de la sierra de Agua 43. Horno para quemar Yeso 44. Puerta de la Habana nombrada la Nueba 45. Puerta baja por donde se entraba antes para hir al Arsenal y al Varrio de Jesús María 46. Yglesia y Cementerio 47. Plazuela de Yden con su fuente 48. Solares sin fabricar

Library of Congress

* First established in the 17th century, The Royal Shipyard of Havana became a major shipbuilding centre during the Bourbon era, as well as the Monarchy’s main naval base in the Indies. Originally located by the inlet connecting Havana Bay to the Atlantic, the navy yard was moved to a large plot to the south and outside the walls, at Havana Bay proper.

Despite being damaged during the British siege and occupation (1762–3), it remained active as an important shipbuilding site and was where several of the Spanish ships that took part in the Napoleonic Wars were built. Yet, it entered a period of decadence as the Age of Sail came to an end, and the fortunes of Bourbon Spain waned both at home and abroad. The shipyard, while still in use, fell into neglect during the 19th century and was demolished in around 1910 to make way for the Central Railways Station.

[renovicstudio]

For a distinctive Presidio Heights mansion with a walled garden, designer Hillary Thomas turns back a century of neglect and falls in love in the process.

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 9.17

1111 – Highest Galician nobility led by Pedro Fróilaz de Traba and the bishop Diego Gelmírez crown Alfonso VII as "King of Galicia". 1176 – The Battle of Myriokephalon is the last attempt by the Byzantine Empire to recover central Anatolia from the Seljuk Turks. 1382 – Louis the Great's daughter, Mary, is crowned "king" of Hungary. 1462 – Thirteen Years' War: A Polish army under Piotr Dunin decisively defeats the Teutonic Order at the Battle of Świecino. 1577 – The Treaty of Bergerac is signed between King Henry III of France and the Huguenots. 1620 – Polish–Ottoman War: The Ottoman Empire defeats the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth during the Battle of Cecora. 1631 – Sweden wins a major victory at the Battle of Breitenfeld against the Holy Roman Empire during the Thirty Years' War. 1658 – The Battle of Vilanova is fought between Portugal and Spain during the Portuguese Restoration War. 1683 – Antonie van Leeuwenhoek writes a letter to the Royal Society describing "animalcules", later known as protozoa. 1775 – American Revolutionary War: The Invasion of Canada begins with the Siege of Fort St. Jean. 1776 – The Presidio of San Francisco is founded in New Spain. 1778 – The Treaty of Fort Pitt is signed. It is the first formal treaty between the United States and a Native American tribe. 1787 – The United States Constitution is signed in Philadelphia. 1793 – War of the Pyrenees: France defeats a Spanish force at the Battle of Peyrestortes. 1794 – Flanders Campaign: France completes its conquest of the Austrian Netherlands at the Battle of Sprimont. 1809 – Peace between Sweden and Russia in the Finnish War; the territory that will become Finland is ceded to Russia by the Treaty of Fredrikshamn. 1849 – American abolitionist Harriet Tubman escapes from slavery. 1859 – Joshua A. Norton declares himself "Norton I, Emperor of the United States." 1861 – Argentine Civil Wars: The State of Buenos Aires defeats the Argentine Confederation at the Battle of Pavón. 1862 – American Civil War: George B. McClellan halts the northward drive of Robert E. Lee's Confederate Army in the single-day Battle of Antietam, the bloodiest day in American military history. 1862 – American Civil War: The Allegheny Arsenal explosion results in the single largest civilian disaster during the war. 1894 – Battle of the Yalu River, the largest naval engagement of the First Sino-Japanese War. 1900 – Philippine–American War: Filipinos under Juan Cailles defeat Americans under Colonel Benjamin F. Cheatham Jr. at Mabitac. 1901 – Second Boer War: A Boer column defeats a British force at the Battle of Blood River Poort. 1901 – Second Boer War: Boers capture a squadron of the 17th Lancers at the Battle of Elands River. 1908 – The Wright Flyer flown by Orville Wright, with Lieutenant Thomas Selfridge as passenger, crashes, killing Selfridge, who becomes the first airplane fatality. 1914 – Andrew Fisher becomes Prime Minister of Australia for the third time. 1914 – World War I: The Race to the Sea begins. 1916 – World War I: Manfred von Richthofen ("The Red Baron"), a flying ace of the German Luftstreitkräfte, wins his first aerial combat near Cambrai, France. 1920 – The National Football League is organized as the American Professional Football Association in Canton, Ohio. 1924 – The Border Protection Corps is established in the Second Polish Republic for the defence of the eastern border against armed Soviet raids and local bandits. 1928 – The Okeechobee hurricane strikes southeastern Florida, killing more than 2,500 people. 1930 – The Kurdish Ararat rebellion is suppressed by the Turks. 1932 – A speech by Laureano Gómez leads to the escalation of the Leticia Incident. 1935 – The Niagara Gorge Railroad ceases operations after a rockslide. 1939 – World War II: The Soviet invasion of Poland begins. 1939 – World War II: German submarine U-29 sinks the British aircraft carrier HMS Courageous. 1940 – World War II: Due to setbacks in the Battle of Britain and approaching autumn weather, Hitler postpones Operation Sea Lion. 1941 – World War II: A decree of the Soviet State Committee of Defense restores compulsory military training. 1941 – World War II: Soviet forces enter Tehran during the Anglo-Soviet invasion of Iran. 1944 – World War II: Allied airborne troops parachute into the Netherlands as the "Market" half of Operation Market Garden. 1944 – World War II: Soviet troops launch the Tallinn Offensive against Germany and pro-independence Estonian units. 1944 – World War II: German forces are attacked by the Allies in the Battle of San Marino. 1948 – The Lehi (also known as the Stern gang) assassinates Count Folke Bernadotte, who was appointed by the United Nations to mediate between the Arab nations and Israel. 1948 – The Nizam of Hyderabad surrenders his sovereignty over the Hyderabad State and joins the Indian Union. 1949 – The Canadian steamship SS Noronic burns in Toronto Harbour with the loss of over 118 lives. 1961 – The world's first retractable roof stadium, the Civic Arena, opens in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. 1961 – Northwest Orient Airlines Flight 706 crashes during takeoff from O'Hare International Airport in Chicago, Illinois, killing all 37 people on board. 1965 – The Battle of Chawinda is fought between Pakistan and India. 1974 – Bangladesh, Grenada and Guinea-Bissau join the United Nations. 1976 – The Space Shuttle Enterprise is unveiled by NASA. 1978 – The Camp David Accords are signed by Israel and Egypt. 1980 – After weeks of strikes at the Lenin Shipyard in Gdańsk, Poland, the nationwide independent trade union Solidarity is established. 1980 – Former Nicaraguan President Anastasio Somoza Debayle is killed in Asunción, Paraguay. 1983 – Vanessa Williams becomes the first black Miss America. 1991 – Estonia, North Korea, South Korea, Latvia, Lithuania, the Marshall Islands and Micronesia join the United Nations. 1991 – The first version of the Linux kernel (0.01) is released to the Internet. 1992 – An Iranian Kurdish leader and his two joiners are assassinated by political militants in Berlin. 2001 – The New York Stock Exchange reopens for trading after the September 11 attacks, the longest closure since the Great Depression. 2006 – Fourpeaked Mountain in Alaska erupts, marking the first eruption for the volcano in at least 10,000 years. 2006 – An audio tape of a private speech by Hungarian Prime Minister Ferenc Gyurcsány is leaked to the public, in which he confessed that his Hungarian Socialist Party had lied to win the 2006 election, sparking widespread protests across the country. 2011 – Occupy Wall Street movement begins in Zuccotti Park, New York City. 2013 – Grand Theft Auto V earns more than half a billion dollars on its first day of release. 2016 – Two bombs explode in Seaside Park, New Jersey, and Manhattan. Thirty-one people are injured in the Manhattan bombing. 2018 – A Russian reconnaissance aircraft carrying 15 people on board is brought down by a Syrian surface-to-air missile over the Mediterranean Sea.

[alexmmx]

SF - Presidio Woods - 1991 See the Stone Wall on the right side that wall dates back from the 19th Century as the Border Wall for the Army Base. But on top of the Presidio Entrance was the entry way to head down to Mission Dolores back when the Spaniards had a Base near where the building was once the Headquarters of the US Army 6th Army. Camera - Nikon Ftn with a 35mm F/2.8 Nikkor lens Film - EXPIRED TMax3200 BW 35mm