#thigh exercise at home
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fitnessmantram · 1 year ago
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Yoga Pilates Exercise to Reduce Thigh Fat, #yoga #thighfat #bellyfatloss...
You can try a number of pilates moves to work on your thigh fat. Pilates side leg series that is basically a sequence of 5-10 exercises which are done by lying on the side of the body. They target on all the muscles of the leg and tone and shape them
Read More: 28-Day Wall Pilates Challenge - Elevate Your Fitness Journey
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robertasgym · 1 year ago
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Effective Workout to Resolve Flabby Arms, Legs, Belly
This workout routine is designed to target all the major muscle groups in your body, helping you to tone your arms, legs, belly. It is s combination of cardio and strength training exercises, which will help you to burn calories and build muscle. The following workout can be done 2-3 times per week, with a least one day of rest in between. With dedication and consistency, this workout routine will help you to achieve your fitness goals and create a toned and healthy body.❤️💪 **If you want to be notified when I upload a new video, make sure to subscribe to our channel. I upload new videos everyday from Monday to Saturday! 
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anonymusbosch · 1 year ago
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new-gemini-project · 2 months ago
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Ballet Beautiful: Lean Legs and Butt Shaper Workout
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Ballet Beautiful: Lean Legs and Butt Shaper Workout with Mary Helen Bowers is a graceful 16-minute, lower body-toning workout that uses ballet-inspired movements to burn calories and quickly sculpt lean muscle and firm definition throughout the legs , thighs, butt, hips, abs and back without any weights or equipment!
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neverendingford · 5 months ago
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#tag talk#I've been getting back into working out and it's pretty great#home workout not gym workout cause no fucking way I do not belong at the gym#bicep curls are my favorite and squats are my least favorite but I want big thighs so I must continue#I don't split my exercising into different groups on different days. I just have a general set of exercises that I do#I prefer to work my whole body instead of having leg day arm day back day and what have you#it's way more satisfying to lie exhausted and unmoving on the floor as your whole body aches versus only isolated ache and exhaustion#I want to start running again as well but I haven't found a good way to incorporate that into my routine yet.#I'm gonna go on a sunrise hike later this week with a friend. I'm pretty hyped for it I've been wanting to for a while.#brain is overloaded trying to calculate scenarios with the new poly relationship I'm sort of in now#I say sort of because it's so new it's not really established yet. but we have a discord group chat and movie plans for tomorrow#I think our identity is shifting back to R now. I put on a skirt to wear around the house and it feels right and not weird anymore#so I think nature is healing and we're back to normal identity balance which I'm conflicted about#cause on one hand I'm way more cheerful but he's way more solid and reliable and grounded but I'm more social and lively#idk. like most things in life it's not about picking one or the other but rather balancing two opposing sides of a spectrum#my answer is not to pick one identity or the other but rather to learn how to integrate them both into a functional working system#but that's easier said than done.#idk. being two people who slide in and out of phase is kind of annoying actually. I lack consistency#consistency in relationships. consistency in appetite. consistency in physical activity. consistency in entertainment preferences#it makes it so hard to find a routine and stick with it because I oscillate between two people with separate preferences for routine#I worry I'll lose his routine now that I'm slipping back into R not L. I've started exercising again. my bottom dysphoria is manageable.#and I'm worried I'll lose that if I finish turning into R again. worried I'll lose this routine I've finally established.#I'm worried I'll lose who I am again and again and again and never be able to rely on my internal infrastructure#this sucks#I didn't ask for this
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gabekidd · 6 months ago
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Good news: I didn't want to waste money on maternity clothes this pregnancy, but wanted a pair of jeans that I could wear (mainly with Capital Collision in mind), so I bought a pair from Old Navy one size up from my usual thinking I could use one of those maternity pants extenders. They got here today and... they just fit on their own.
Bad news: It feels like I'm going to spend another night barely being able to walk.
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osohchoso · 1 month ago
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Gym Rat!
Personal Trainer!Choso x F!reader
Content: no use of y/n, working out, dry humping, praise, unprotected sex (p in v), multiple positions, creampie
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Personal Trainer!Choso whose hand brushes against yours when you reach for the last container of chocolate protein powder in the grocery store. He notices your shy smile as you quickly retract your hand, assuring him he can have it.
Personal Trainer!Choso who insists you buy it, practically shoving the protein powder into your own cart as you object. As much as he prefers the chocolate flavor over the vanilla option, he would gladly sacrifice his preference if it made someone as beautiful as you smile again.
Personal Trainer!Choso who can’t stop himself from gushing about his passions when you compliment his shirt, the tight black fabric sporting the red arrow logo of his in-home gym. He can feel the heat rising to his cheeks as you give him your undivided attention, wide eyes glittering with interest.
Personal Trainer!Choso who offers to train you when you explain your New Year’s resolution is to build more muscle. He asks for your phone number so he can send you his website, wanting to prove to you he is legit and credentialed, not some creep trying to lure you into his basement. 
Personal Trainer!Choso who wants to sweeten the deal, assuring you the first session was free. He just wanted an excuse to get to know you better. He practically chokes when you accept without hesitation, planning to be at his house tomorrow evening.
Personal Trainer!Choso whose mouth goes dry at the sight of you standing in his house, your curves concealed in a tight matching work-out set, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Personal Trainer!Choso who preaches the importance of stretching before beginning the workout. He models a few exercises aimed at your quads and hamstrings, examining your form with an appreciative gaze.
Personal Trainer!Choso  who stands closely behind to spot you during your squat routine, whispering words of motivation as you adjust the barbell on your shoulders, it’s heavier than you’re used to. "You can handle it," his gruff voice assures you.
Personal Trainer!Choso  who scolds you immediately when your ass brushes against the front of his shorts, sending a shiver racing through him, he educates you on dangers of your improper technique. He doesn’t hesitate to put his hands on you as he adjusts your form. One strong hand grasping your inner thigh to widen your stance, the other firmly pressed to your back to prevent you from bending your spine.
Personal Trainer!Choso who doesn’t realize how dirty it sounds when he said, “you can take it deeper than that,” while challenging you to squat lower.
Personal Trainer!Choso who can’t force himself to look away when you take a sip of water, your shaky hands spilling it down the front of you. The fabric of your shirt clinging to your breasts and soaking through to the skin underneath.
Personal Trainer!Choso who couldn’t believe his ears when you asked if he would be uncomfortable if you continued the workout without your shirt, his eyes widening in surprise as he finds out the sports bra underneath also matched your outfit perfectly.
Personal Trainer!Choso who watches the way your glutes twitch and shake with each rep of your hip thrusts, your out of breath gasps music to his ears.
Personal Trainer!Choso who is feeling cocky, claiming he could hip thrust your weight easily, a smirk crossing your face as you take him up on that challenge. His shoulder blades pressed to the sideways bench and feet planted firmly on the floor as he invites you to sit on his lap, arms crossed behind his head in an arrogant display.
Personal Trainer!Choso who, to no one's surprise, effortlessly dips you up and down as if you weighed nothing on top of him. "Told ya so," he boasts but doesn't stop.
Personal Trainer!Choso who can feel your heat radiating onto his hard bulge with each thrust up. The spandex of your leggings does little to shield the shape of your cunt from him. He guarantees you can feel him too, judging by the way your teeth dig into your bottom lip and your nails grip his shirt.
Personal Trainer!Choso who can’t stop the involuntary groan that comes rolling off his tongue, trying to play it off as a typical grunt you would hear from other weightlifters.
Personal Trainer!Choso who starts to get a little too confident, thrusting faster and faster as he watches your face twist in enjoyment. Your own hips grinding against him as you seek more friction. Both becoming so lost in the sensation that he almost drops you. His hands flying to grip your ass, fingertips digging into the pliable flesh as he holds you against him.
Personal Trainer!Choso who can’t believe his ears when you are the one to suggest an idea for a "better workout".
Personal Trainer!Choso whose mind can't comprehend how he got into this situation. His shorts and boxers discarded and back still pressed against the bench as you lower yourself back onto his lap, his swollen tip easily slipping inside your entrance.
Personal Trainer!Choso  who resumes his repetitions, his nails biting into the skin at your hips as he holds you down on him, frantically burying himself deep inside your heat. He wishes he could rip that sports bra off your breasts, wanting to watch how they bounce on each messy thrust instead of being held hostage by the tight material.
Personal Trainer!Choso whose legs are about to give out, unable to hold his position any longer. He grasps your waist and presses your back to the foam tiles covering the gym floor. Gripping your legs and pushing your knees up to your chest. Pulling himself out just to drive back in even harder, tip bullying your cervix on every mean shove.
Personal Trainer!Choso whose calloused thumb was rubbing rough circles on your clit while he continued to slam into you, your loud moans filling the air alongside the sound of skin slapping skin. He can feel the way you were clenching around him, practically sucking him in. You were just as close as he was.
Personal Trainer!Choso who fucked you through your orgasm, refusing to let up pace as he whispered praises. “Such a good girl for me, you take me so well,” all while he nears his own climax. He can’t bring himself to pull away from your wet heat, painting the inside of you with hot ropes of cum.
Personal Trainer!Choso who collapses onto the foam tile next to you, chest heaving and drenched in sweat after the intense workout routine you both shared, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he says, “good thing we stretched first”.
Personal Trainer!Choso  who can't stop the smile forming on his lips when you ask when your next ‘training session’ will be.
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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago
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Nanami Kento
TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, inexperienced reader, virginity loss, size-difference, abuse of power, lies and manipulation, captive darling, age-gap
AN: thinking about a pervy sex therapist Nanami~
fem reader
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You started coming to his home office once a week. 
Unsure of it all, in the beginning, you were so nervous. He looked so strict – sitting opposite you in his dark brown leather chair with such a tight expression on his face. 
But you came around to like him soon enough. 
He was a nice man. Serious but tender with you – putting out freshly baked muffins on the coffee table and always giving you a warm cup of chamomile with vanilla and honey before getting started. 
And he was knowledgeable too – had that mature air about him that seemed so polished and proficient you couldn’t help but hang off every word like it was scripture.
When he told you to stop wearing bras because they hinder natural breast growth, you listened, and when he said that keeping your pussy hairless was important for hygienic purposes, you believed him because you trusted him.
He diagnosed you with virgin anxiety and has been so patient with you ever since, helping you overcome it.
Professional enough to practice with you. Sticking a gloved finger inside your pretty pussy when you’re propped on his examination bed, testing out your tightness with words reassuring you that you just need to wait and allow your body to provide the wetness – smiling at you kindly, that way old men do, more with his eyes than his lips, when you’re weeping with slick enough to accommodate all three of his lengthy fingers inside you – squeezing on him so tight.
You gush, shaking your head while spluttering apologies when you cum around them, but he just rubs your clit slowly, with veteran steadiness – telling you it's only natural and healthy for a young woman like you to be so sensitive under a man's touch – that it’s nothing to be ashamed or scared of – on the contrary, it’s something you should feel very proud of.
He’s also kind enough to give you extra sessions – at least three times a week at his home office – sometimes even breaking his own rules, treating you to a house call, coming to your apartment for a nice little chat. 
He even assigns you daily exercises for you to do on your own – though he encourages you to call him so he can guide you through it. Instructing you to wet your fingers in your mouth first before you touch yourself down there.
He listens to your little moans filtered through the phone – bated breaths and whimpers as you get yourself all bothered and needy for more. 
He tells you to turn on the camera so he can see if you’re doing it right, and you listen – placing the phone in view of your tiny fingers struggling to reach and stuff your cute cunt.
He praises you on your good job – his own camera off, for obvious reasons – he can't have you seeing his raging shaft just yet, or how he jerks it to the sight of your tight little cunt. A deep furrow between his brows and his jaw locked tight, resolute in his plans of coaxing you into giving him your first time. He groans just thinking about it, splurting his load into his fist, listening to you moan for him. “This feels funny, Nanami-san~ Is this right? ~ Please, Nanami-san, teach me~” 
He's been coveting your virginity for months now – grooming you – making you pliant and gullible, and soon, all his patience and hard work would pay off. 
It’s cute that you don’t know it yet… but your pretty little pussy is all his.
He expertly works it into your sessions as an exercise. One he promises you’ll benefit from. Telling you your condition can be blamed on never having studied a real grown man’s cock – that, because it’s such a foreign thing to you, you end up fearing it.
He reminds you how this is a safe space – tells you that all he cares about is your wellbeing – as he sets himself next to you on the couch, his thick thigh next to yours, while buckling up his belt and zipping himself free – taking his fat erection out for you to lay your innocent eyes on.
“Here it is.” He clears his throat with a rusty sigh, sounding relieved when his manhood springs free, standing proud and fat.
His veins flex along his arm beneath dark blonde hair as he strokes the length lazily – up and down slowly. Making old noises – heavy sighs and hums – dragging the foreskin back and revealing its plush mushroomed head.
You take it in with doe eyes.
“Don’t be shy. Tell me your thoughts.”
You swallow thickly at the assignment, blinking out of your stare. Shocked and embarrassed, though curious, but also a little grossed out – you’re not sure what feeling you end up with. “Uhm- It’s very… big.”
He chuckles low at that. “Come on, you can do better. What else?” He urges you, offering another deep but light-hearted laugh. “You can be honest. It’s a little funny looking, huh?”
“Yeah-” You giggle lightly in return, though you’re still somewhat uneasy – sitting as though you plan on leaving, but staying nonetheless, at the edge of your seat – eyes glued to the chubby member, studying the curve of its spine and the veins forking their way up to its head.
“Feel up to touching it?” He asks, and your eyes snap to his – lined with crow’s feet and something so trustworthy. 
But still, you promptly shake your head in embarrassment. “Oh- no, thank you, Nanami-san-” But he’s already taken your smaller hand in his, pulling you back by guiding it to his lap. 
“No, no, little one- this is what we've been training for. You won’t get better if you don’t try.” He scolds you, voice both dismissive and reassuring all at once. “Here- feel it.” 
He wraps your tiny fingers around the stout shaft and overlaps your hand with his, helping you find the rhythm – stroking it nice and slow. 
“There you go, just like that. Good.”
You hesitate at first. Giving your lip a soft bite while thinking about his previous words.
Was he right? Are you scared because you've never looked at or touched a real penis before?
You don't want to be a virgin forever – it's embarrassing as an adult – it makes you still feel like such a silly little girl.
So... if Dr. Nanami says that this will help you overcome your fears, then you suppose...
You'll do it.
You gulp and follow his movement – up and down the large and lengthy pole.
It's so warm – pulsing in your grip, twitching at your soft touch. Skin so thin, almost rubbery, holding something much tougher than you’d imagined.
In your hand, it’s a lot bigger as well. You can’t even reach your fingers around the thickness to touch your thumb.
“All of this goes inside me?” You ask, under your breath – swallowing thickly while he leads your dainty hand downward into the hair around his base, then up to the wet tip, which pilled and trickled with white pearls getting caught between your fingers – warm and sticky.
“That’s right, every inch.” He answers – voice relaxed – pleased by how well you were doing. “Does that scare you?”
You bite your lip and rub your thighs together. “A little…”
“But it makes you feel a little warm, too, hm?” He suggests. “Makes your mouth wet? And also, that soft place between your legs?”
You make a nervous sound, digging your nails into your knee, where you let your other hand rest awkwardly. 
He hums again with a soft chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed, little one. It’s a good thing.” He ensures, encouragingly squeezing your hand underneath his while lifting the other up to your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear – before sliding it across the back of your neck. “Let's see you be brave and give it a taste.”
You hesitate again – this time a little more decidedly. “I don’t think I can-” But Dr. Nanami is strong, keeping your neck in a pinch as he guides you down into a bow.
“It’s alright, I’m here to help you. Just open your mouth, and I’ll show you how.” He insists soothingly. Spreading his thighs out further while laying your head down on his lap, hips moving languidly when brushing his shaft up between your lips. 
It’s so big, so hot, pumping with warmth where you kiss it on the side on a particularly fat and throbbing vein.
He lifts you up slightly and angles the tip into your mouth, creating a cute bulge in your cheek where he rests his hand to keep you down when you flinch at the salty tang getting caught by your saliva. The taste quickly coats your entire tongue.
“Mmh- that’s a big girl~ getting her first mouthful of cock.” Dr. Nanami sighs with a groan, dropping his head back against the couch cushions while pushing up into the pouch of your cheek in lazy thrusts. It strains – makes you feel like it might poke through and make a hole.
He lets it settle there for a moment, enjoying the wet warmth and the unsure movements of your sweet tongue – not knowing where to go with all the space occupied by his meat.
But then he tangles both hands in your hair, gathering it all into a neat ponytail. And, lifting your skull up directly above, he sends his cock down your guzzle even when you whine out in meek protest.
“Breathe through your nose and try your best to swallow it down as far as your throat allows.” He instructs, keeping a tight-knit grip around your hair in one fist whilst the other hand slides down to pet your cheek in soothing circles.
Forcing it down your tight little amateur throat even when your jaw feels like it’s unlocking. 
“Good girl.” He sighed once he’d wedged himself in all the way until your lips kissed the pubes at his base.
Your smaller hands dent the muscle of his thigh, offering a meager push. Mewing out a “Mrph-” while you gag around the trunk. 
He holds you there, roosting inside your throat for another satisfying moment before easing up, pulling you up by your pony.
You gasp, halfway choked on your spit – but he's not much concerned.
“Stand up- let me feel.” He rushes out in a stiff order, ignoring how you cough and slurp for air – forcing you up to stand between his knees. 
His firm hands plant themselves on your hips, being the only sturdy thing balancing you as you wobble – unsteady when he tugs your skirt and panties down until they drop into a pool around your ankles.
He then pulls you onto his lap – seating you with your back leaning against his chest with his cock gliding up through your inner thighs, rubbing against your bare cunt.
You’re still light-headed, bracing yourself against his broad chest while he keeps one thick arm strong around your waist – holding you snug. The other jerks his manhood, tapping it against your clit in soft spit-wet slaps.
“Let’s see how it feels inside you.” He grunts against your ear, resting his chin-stubbled jaw in the dip between your neck and shoulder – looking to where he has your thighs spread over his own.
“N-no, Nanami-san-” You manage to squeak out softly with a voice both teary and hoarse from choking. “Please- I’m not ready-”
But he doesn’t listen – and any struggle you try to inflict ends up aimless where you’re barred beneath his arm – strict and tough with brawn like it’s a seatbelt on a rollercoaster ride.
“I think you're more than ready for it. Trust me.” He’s growling now – so menacingly, you don’t dare speak against it. Only watching the glossy veiny beast with bleary eyes while he rubs through your pussylips with the fat plush bulge topping it – catching your clit and making you gasp before zoning down to your pretty little twitchy hole.
You whine when it’s forced to stretch open as he nudges himself inside the pill-sized opening despite your effort to climb away from it.
“It hurts, Nanami-san!” You cry, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.
“Your virgin pussy will understand it soon. Don’t worry.” He dismisses – continuing to ease his thickness into the tautness, knowing you must be feeling close to tearing apart once his head’s finally swallowed in with a pop, followed by his inches bullying through you one by one, each feeling like a painful mile. 
You cry out, nearly screaming, “Please, Nanami-san! Take it out- it’s too much-” worming on his lap, trying to wiggle it out.
But he has you under reigns, and your struggling only results in him sinking inside you faster. Now, so deep you feel him nuzzle against your womb – and still it keeps sleaving itself until it curves against your walls and pudges out in a cute belly bulge.
“We've trained for this. You need to allow your body the time it takes to get comfortable.” He coos, sounding less on edge now that you’ve taken him inside your comfort.
His chest rumbles with satisfaction against your back as he sits there relaxed, bouncing you slackly but not too much just yet.
He keeps you seated but lifts his other arm to tug off your tiny T-shirt. 
“Here, let's take this off. It’ll help.” He excuses, and you’re a little too desperate for the relief to refuse – listening to the kindness in his voice and lifting your arms in hope, letting him fling it off.
Only in socks now. You throw your head back and whine when he twists one of your pretty nipples into a sore nub – chest arching from the contact. The arm holding you in place slides a hand between your thighs and starts circling your cute button, flicking over it with a gritty fingerprint.
The friction makes your belly bloom all sorts of colors, making you lock and quiver around that big thing he has nestled inside you, throbbing against your womb as he only gently bounces you on his lap – stretching your little pussy out generously as it suckles him so very sweetly – so very wet, drooling on his lap –squeezing him oh-so-snug.
You feel sticky after a while of twisting and refusing. Feeling so full and feverish. Neck wet from tongue and lips – so wet, spit is running slow trails down your chest, cool in the chilly open air of his home office.
You still think you want to stop, but you’re not as tense anymore – resting prettily against his chest. Moaning for each swirl he does over your budding clit – having quaked with pleasure a whole of three times already, gummy walls rippling all along his shaft as you softly loll your hips on him in return.
There’s a pool of your slick between the two of you – having drooled form where it seeps around the tight edges of where he has you stuffed air-tight, running down his balls to gloss the leather seat beneath. 
He takes it as a sign that you’re ready for the real thing. 
It’s almost unfair – how easily your smaller body is held in his hands. Maneuvered so effortlessly as he lifts your thighs up against your chest, then spreads them wide. 
He hooks your knees on his elbows and braids his fingers behind your neck. It's an awkward position, but you’re completely locked in it. Unable to do a thing except wail with moans once he starts pistoning his fat man-cock up inside you. 
It’s way worse when he stands up – bouncing you in the air – holding you folded against his chest, your legs dangling over his arms, jumping as he pounds his meat inside you, stuffing your cunt full on every deep thrust – stabbing your poor stomach until you’re screaming and squirting from the pressure.
Feeling you soak him is the last straw – so tight while spraying a hot mess.
He sits down again, lifting you off his cock before fanning your clit with four fingers – making you gush out every last drop, screaming while raining on his cock until you’ve strangled it out one final time – left shaking.
You’re then ushered down to the floor, on your knees – the top of your head leveled with Dr. Nanamis's big hand, keeping your face forward as he faps his sturdy thickness at your mouth.
“Open your mouth wide.” He orders, his teeth grit while his bulbing cockhead kisses your lips. 
You listen when he gives your little head a shake – rolling your tongue out while dropping your jaw for him.
“That’s a good girl-” He praises, placing his tip on the wet bed of your soft pink tongue, giving his cock only a few more tugs before his balls clenched hard and sent a big fat load through his cock out into your pretty little open mouth.
He groans heavily, almost angrily, squeezing every spurt out – some coming out so heavy it spills up your face and down your chin – but mostly getting caught where you have your lips parted to receive it.
“Good girl.” He repeats, taking in the sight of your painted face – so cute covered in his cum. 
He smiles.
“Now swallow it all down. And don’t waste a single drop. It's rich in vitamins young girls like you need to become proper ladies.”
You don’t want to close your mouth – you want to spit all of it out and rinse the rest with toothpaste and water. But the hand petting your head is so heavy, you don’t dare. So you swallow. Sniffling at the yucky taste once it sits warm in your stomach, still so sticky and gross on your tongue.
But Dr. Nanami seems pleased.
“Moving forward, I think you’ll benefit from closer examination.” He says. “I've made arrangements to have you institutionalized here, where I can keep a closer eye on you and offer more frequent assistance. You still have a long way to go before you’re well, little one. I’m not close to seeing the results I need in order to release you from my care.”
You’re still too shocked by the former events to look confused, but the sick feeling in your gut just keeps growing.
“Don’t worry. We’ll keep training, and soon I’ll have you turned into a proper little cock-pet.”
You want to run, but after what you’re body had just been put through, aching and screaming at you like it was your fault – you knew you wouldn’t be able to do much more than crawl, and something about the still fat cock resting its weight against Dr. Nanamis thigh told you he wasn’t done with you just yet.
“Give my cock some time to rest, and we’ll try it again later.” He confirmed your fears, still with his hand stroking your head like a pet at his feet. “Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me how your sweet pussy liked losing its virginity- and how this little face enjoyed getting its first-ever taste of cock and cum, hm?”
sequel
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scribeanand · 1 year ago
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Top 10 Exercises for BUILDING STRENGTH AND TONING MUSCLES
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boysmentfs · 4 months ago
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Stepbrother's Room.
Erick never liked the idea of going to live with his stepfather and stepbrother, but his mother thought differently, So here he is, living with his stepbrother and stepfather for 1 month now.
The ideas he had about James (his stepfather) changed a lot since he started living with him, he no longer found him stressful or grumpy, But Gio (his stepbrother) made his life difficult, whenever he crossed paths with him he would make fun of him, calling him a faggot, 4 eyes and all those cliché insults.
But that was not the worst, Erick endured all the insults, the worst was yet to come when his mother and stepfather said that he was going to stay with his stepbrother since they were going on their honeymoon, Erick didn't want this to happen. now just imagining that it would only be the two of them alone, Erick began to tremble.
The day arrived, his mother and stepfather packed and left the two boys at home, Gio turned to look at Erick while smiling at him and giving him a grimace.
"They're really crazy if they think I'm staying with you, you f*ggot freak"
Gio commented as he got up from the couch and walked out the door, leaving Erick alone watching TV.
"Better for me, home alone and without having to put up with you"
Erick commented in a low tone while Gio closed the door.
The hours passed, Erick finished watching TV, ate alone, washed his dishes and that's how he went to sleep knowing that tomorrow he wouldn't see Gio either until his parents arrived, He went to bed with a smile and closed his eyes.
The night passed and the day began to shine, the sun began to set through the window as the clock rang, Erick yawned, wiped his eyes and got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom, It was time to take a shower since he didn't do it yesterday because he was lazy.
Once he finished showering, he went to his closet to put on his favorite outfit, a blue shirt, his short red shorts, and his boxers, but when he looked for his clothes he couldn't find anything and wrinkled his face.
"Mom must have made a mistake and put my clothes in that idiot's room... Damn it" Erick cursed as he went to Gio's room, when he opened the door the smell of hormones, exercise, and sweat invaded his nose.
But what surprised Erick the most was that there were no clothes lying around and everything was in order, Erick knew that Gio was the typical dumb straight jock so why was his room so clean and tidy?
He shook his head, he didn't come for that, he just came to get his clothes, but something was calling his attention, on his bed there was a transparent male thong and a toy, so Erick approached.
When he grabbed the toy he was surprised, it was a rubber sex toy from a woman's intimate part, he grabbed the thong and smelled it, it had the smell of Gio, Even though he was his stepbrother, Erick began to fall in love with Gio, and how could he not? Gio was tall, muscular, bearded, and had just turned 25 years old.
The moment Erick smelled Gio's thong he head started to spin and a heat began to grow in him while his small 5-centimeter cock became erect and hard, His head moved on its own as Erick looked at Gio's toy, he climbed onto the bed and sat down as he began to insert his cock into the fake rubber entrance.
His hands began to rise with the toy between them as Erick moaned in pleasure but he knew something was wrong, He would never get excited by seeing a sex toy, much less a p*ssy he was homosexual, not heterosexual, He tried to stop but it was as if his hands were moving on their own.
""Fuck... No, this-this is wrong... But.. DAMN IT, this feels so good" Erick commented between moans and gasps.
While Erick had his eyes closed, his body began to change, his feet began to grow in size until they reached a large 16 size, while a masculine smell came out of them and hair too.
His legs and thighs also underwent a change, his once thin legs were now full of muscles, they looked like trunks, capable of breaking a watermelon, A layer of hair also came out on them.
His buttocks, which were of a normal size, began to enlarge as his hole began to close, No one would ever put a cock in his ass again, now he had two buttocks like bubbles, big and firm.
His stomach started to burn as all the baby fat he had started to disappear to make way for a well-worked, firm and desired 6-pack of abs.
His chest, which was thin and flaccid, began to expand outwards as two large and sensitive pectorals began to emerge, he now had 2 large pectorals created by the gods.
His torso began to expand as well to give him a more masculine, more jock look.
Erick wasn't realizing this, the only thing he had in mind was feeling that toy p*ssy around his hard cock.
His back began to expand to give him a more manly and mature look, while muscles also began to emerge on it, his shoulders also lengthened.
His biceps and arms began to change, his biceps began to enlarge to look like the size of balls and his arms began to fill with hair while now his veins were more noticeable.
His hands began to grow larger as he held the toy, his fingers lengthening as they now looked more masculine, while veins also popped out.
His Adam's apple became more noticeable, making his moans more manly and masculine.
Next was his face, it started to change and his bones started to crack as his whole face changed, His jaw became slimmer and more defined, his lips grew a little in size while his nose was now cuter, his eyes that were green changed to a brown color, A 5 o'clock beard started to appear on his jaw making him look hotter and more handsome.
His hair that was almost blonde in color began to lose its shine as a new color began to bloom in his hair, a brown color, His haircut also changed, giving it a more masculine and jock cut.
His Adam's apple stood out, making his moans sound much more mature and masculine, when he heard his new voice he opened his eyes, he recognized this voice as Gio's voice.
The moment he saw the mirror in front of him, he was surprised, there was Gio jerk off in his bed, but... Gio was not at home, there was only him.
"What the fuck!? Gio? What's going on?" Erick commented while continuing to jerk off.
But before Erick could react, he saw his cock grow larger and thicker as he was about to break the toy.
"No... It can't be, I can't be Gio, I can't be that idiot!
But just then he came inside the fake p*ssy, causing his past self to come out along with his c*m.
"FUCK... That felt so fucking great... Ryan didn't lie to me that a fake p*ssy was better than a real one, good thing that freak f*ggot isn't here, house to myself"
gio took his cock out of the toy, he cleaned and got out of bed putting on his thong, Once he put on his thong he sat back down on his bed waiting for his stepbrother to arrive so he could continue harassing him.
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fitnessmantram · 2 years ago
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Yoga Pilates Reduce Thigh Fat #short #reducebellyfat #bellyfatloss #yoga ...
Pilates is an excellent low-impact, easy-on-the-knees exercise for shaping the thighs and buttocks. Pilates requires beauty, equilibrium, stream, and control, which focuses on each of the muscles in the leg, including little natural muscular build and powerless muscle gatherings. While the legs are being toned, the idea keeps them long and slim.
Read More: MCT Wellness- Is MCT Wellness a Hoax?
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robertasgym · 10 months ago
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18-Min Lower Belly and Thigh Fat Eliminator
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Ready to kick those pesky lower belly and thigh fats to the curb? Say hello to the 18-Min Lower Belly and Thigh Fat Eliminator! If you've been struggling with those stubborn areas, fret no more. This workout routine is like your trusty sidekick, here to make your fitness journey a breeze.
In just 18 minutes each day, you'll be on your way to a trimmer waistline and toned thighs. No fancy gym equipment needed – just grab a mat, clear some space, and you're good to go. With simple, easy-to-follow exercises, you'll feel the burn in all the right places. So why wait? Start your journey to a fitter, happier you today with the 18-Min Lower Belly and Thigh Fat Eliminator!
You've got this! Even on those days when motivation feels low, remember how far you've come already. Stay consistent, stay positive, and soon enough, you'll see the progress you're aiming for. Good luck and have fun!❤️💪
**If you want to be notified when I upload a new video, make sure to subscribe to our channel. I upload new videos everyday from Monday to Saturday!
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diejager · 1 year ago
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random thought but… stepdad!König fucking reader after finding out they wanna be in a relationship with him and saying “I’m going to marry you” or “I’ll make you mine one day” or smth like that. 🤭 and dbf!Horangi just kinda agreeing with him while sandwiching reader from the back, already having an idea of being the husband’s best friend that fucks his wifey 💝💝💝
—🎀—
Gah- that pink bow has my heart😵‍💫 cw: smut, STEPCEST, DUB-CON, creampie, sex marathon?, phone sex? Double penetration, p in v, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cheating, marriage, tell me if I missed any.
For a second, he forgot how to breathe, his knees weak and fingers twitching, his cheeks flushed with the joy he felt. Your little confession riled him up, your sweet tears and pout gave him the hardest erection he’d ever lived. Sweet, innocent words that would’ve seemed blasphemous to any other, sounded erotic, making his blood boil and arousal simmer under his skin. It worked through his body with tight and rushing pleasure, pumping blood down to his engorged cock and heavy balls.
“I want you,” sealed the deal, commanding his body to pound you into your bed, make you forget you ever had a life without him - he promised it.
And promised he did, he fucked you all day, pressing you down on your bed, folding you in half as keened loudly. The bed creaked and the wooden headboard slamming into the wall behind it with every rock of his hips, fingers gripping your soft bedsheets and toes curling over his shoulder. You were stuck beneath him until the time he knew your mother would be back, taking every moment he had to watch his cock push in you and back out with a ring of cum and slick around his thick cock.
At first, he took you alone, slamming into your while you mewled out, your sweet sounds reaching the hungry ears of your neighbour on the phone. König had called Horangi in a blur, his mirth infectious, making Horangi happy, chuckling out praises to you and giving his word that he’d come by after his exercise at the gym. Your stepdad kept his friend on the phone, the Korean wearing EarPods during his whole course, working out with his cock throbbing and pushing against his shorts.
An hour in, waking up after you passed out in pleasure, eyes rolled to the back of your head in white pleasure, Horangi made himself home, naked and kneeling between your thighs. You let out a surprised moan, back arching when he drove his tongue inside your twitching hole, his thumb rolling your sensitive clit. He took his take taking you apart, watching you flay and cream all over him, covering is face with slick.
Near delirious and body oversensitive, you felt them push into you, softly alternating between both cocks stuffing your stretched cunt. You were trapped between them, body pushed back and fourth, feeling them fill you up, bottoming out, balls slapping the other man, pulling out to the tip and slamming back in. You bucked your hips, chasing their cocks, nails digging into Horangi’s shoulder, gasping and moaning with your legs spread open by König’s hands.
“I’ll marry you, ja, Schatz?” König growled, pumping you full of cum, womb stuffed full with his and Horangi’s charged load. “Breed you and make you mine.”
“Fuck, I can’t wait to suck your tits,” Horangi couldn’t stop himself from agreeing, mind conjuring every image of your swollen stomach and wobbling walk. “Drink your sweet milk.”
“Do you want that, Schnucki?”
All you could do was nod, throat sore from screaming and body limp in your stepfather’s arms, your eyes were heavy chest puffing with loud, exhausted breaths. You liked their idea, marrying, breeding, becoming theirs, perhaps their delusions finally got to you.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly
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meeorganic · 2 years ago
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You see, having sturdy thighs is necessary for more reasons than you may guess. You are running, stair climbing, and many other activities. You will only be climbing that mountain soon if you have muscular thighs. And summer is swiftly approaching. Who doesn't adore the appearance of powerful, toned thighs in the newest pair of shorts? We're here to assist you as you research how to develop larger thighs.
Of course, having a great appearance is crucial, but the thighs are different. Some of your body's most prominent and strongest muscles are found in your thighs. Regular thigh exercises will increase your running speed, balance, and stability.
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modedelagauze · 3 months ago
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Lying is The Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
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​​pairing: Ellie Williams x f!reader summary: Ellie finds out you do burlesque and fucks you in costume after the show. cw: nsfw, dom!Ellie, thigh riding, praise kink, cursing, strap, fingering (4.2k) Read the extended version on AO3 HERE
an: I've got serious p!atd brain rot right now so stream Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off to get the full vision~
unedited btw!
“Five minutes!” shouted a voice over many, somewhat distorted by the echo of clicking heels rapidly shuffling between the narrow corridors of the dressing rooms and storage closets sandwiched among one another downstairs. You took a moment to reapply a thick layer of the blood colored bullet in your fingers and puckering to place a kiss on the surface of a half boa covered mirror as a way of wishing good luck to yourself before the show. You were one of the only cabaret girls who actually sang at the club and the only girl to  have ever sang for Ellie Williams personally. At the beginning of the semester you’d often spend late afternoons alone and enclosed within the padded walls of the black box theater, on campus, practicing. You were blissfully unaware of the fact that there was someone else who was also using the space on occasion, probably for the better. It only was two weeks into the term that you’d stayed later than usual singing–ten minutes at most–and been disturbed by the nervous brunette carrying a guitar. To avoid drawing attention, Ellie had always entered the theater through its reliably unlocked back doors only to be gifted with the sound of your voice. Entranced by the melody, she decided to wait behind the curtains, standing just far enough for a view of your form without being noticed. It was only when you turned to take a swig of water that you became aware of the girl watching you. After that encounter she suggested that the two of you spend some time singing together, that you could learn a thing or two from each other. You ended up learning how magical her fingers could feel buried deep within that aching cunt of yours. With time, of course, she’d gone and destroyed what the two of you had built by indecisively bouncing back and forth between you and some girl back home. So, here you were ignoring her third call of the week and at the same time hoping to see her in passing just for one moment of spite.
On the stairs down from the dressing room, you practiced breathing exercises in preparation for the upcoming vocal stress. Girls called out wishes of support as you made your way down the long hall until their voices faded into the hushed whispers of patrons and the sharp clanging of glasses upon their wooden tables. It felt as though time had sped up tenfold how a wire was so quickly slid behind your ears and down your costume; a small flesh colored earpiece rushed into your right palm to be placed comfortably at your own will. Right at center stage was the band’s pianist, side facing the curtains, whilst the rest of the group were all tucked along the left side of the stage facing the audience. He passed along a supportive nod in your direction as you rushed into position; that being sat atop the far right side of his piano with an arched back and one thigh flush against the wood while the other was kicked up and bent.  
“Thirty seconds till curtains rise,” ushered one of the techies and thus began the pianist, a playful and upbeat tempo before joined by the bass then guitars. The crowd cheered, queueing everyone behind the curtains that the two dancers upon the stage beyond had begun dancing along to the music. Slowly the velvet draping began to reveal light, decorating everyone behind the curtains too in ribbons of dancing radiance. 
In synchronization with the drums having now kicked in and the curtains fully raised, you began in a teasing tone, “Is it still me that makes you sweat?”  Your hands navigated down your hair and to your breasts, stopping to cup them ever so slightly before tauntingly sliding a single bra strap down between the lines, “am I who you think about in bed when the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you’re sliding off her dress?” An o-shaped expression of faux-embarrassment graced your face for a moment before gliding off of the piano and maneuvering around it to wrap your arms around the pianist in an attempt to imitate the look of a neck kiss. The next line was one of mockery, “Think of what you did and how I hope to god she was worth it.” As the final words of the phrase escaped your lips, your eyes landed on Ellie sandwiched within the crowd along the center stage, earning a stutter only recognized by the pianist as his eyes quickly darted to you and back to his instrument of choice. “When the lights are dim–And your heart is racing as your fingers touch her skin.” The line was rushed in order to catch up with your stutter, though the pianist threw in an additional key to make up for it, smiling as he played. In one fluid motion the two dancers along stage, darted to your figure and tugged on either side at both arms. You sang with pure confidence, borderline arrogance “I’ve got more wit” as one dancer dropped your arm the other spun you into hers and ran a hand along your face, thumbing at your flush bottom lip “a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck than any girl you’d ever meet.” Your song choice for the night had been a very carefully curated one though you weren't expecting to see Ellie any time soon–especially at your place of work out of all locations–it felt so good to sing your emotions out and leave them on the stage, but seeing her just now had felt like the greatest fuck you that the universe could offer. Had she even known that you’d be here or was it all by pure coincidence? Regardless, you'd come to the conclusion that now was no better a time than ever to remind her of the mistake she’d made. The other dancer’s hands found their way to your waist, unraveling you from the original’s hold and into her own. Both of your hands landed in your hair, teasingly pulling at it leading her to imitate the ghost of an open-mouthed moan, “Sweetie you had me.”
The routine required you to pick a random guest in the audience to sing to and Ellie had just so managed to pick one of the best seats in the house. Navigation was really quite effortless as you made sure to spend a lingering moment here and there singing into the face of occasional patrons. Each strum of the bass was a stride forward before unabashedly ending up at Ellie's table. You managed to dance around the other people sitting there and right into her face without wasting a beat. You asked and received and here she was in all her glory, a bewildered look upon her face as if she hadn't expected for you to make such a commotion about her appearance. You knew under that carefree attitude that she loved to portray there was still that same nervous girl tucked away within. It was as if she’d planned to show up in order to provoke you and realized that now was too late to back out. Usually she had no issue confronting any issue at hand but the problem was that she hated the attention confrontation brought her. She wanted your attention after having not seen you in so long and was desperate enough to risk embarrassment for it, which said more than enough.
Her gaze brought out a degree of seduction in you that had been fighting to finally be on the prowl again, tantalizing and enough for the girl in front of you to practically taste you with her eyes. You could see her fingernails hopelessly digging into the arm rests of her chair, respecting  the club rules that patrons weren’t allowed to touch any of the performers unless they placed the hands of patrons upon their bodies themself. 
A wicked smile was unavoidable as your hands grew to extend themselves past your own body and onto hers, delicately tiptoeing down her shoulder blades, scuffling the tips of your freshly manicured nails down the sides of her biceps. How you knew she loved the scratches; the way you would often leave her skin tinged red the following morning after a scandalous night. Maintaining eye contact was the name of the game for the entire duration of your little escapade. Naturally you already had the girl by an inch or two, but with the added height of heels you were a steel tower of carnality that she wished to rip apart. If anything she liked that you were taller because It made watching you sink down onto her strap all the more enjoyable. Seemingly the length of your legs created an illusion of prolonged time settling down upon her crude nature and she could watch you ride all night long.
You were sure to drag your claws along her jeans, pressing just hard enough for her to feel it through the fabric as your hands retracted down to her knees and you dropped to a close legged crouch looking up at her, running your hands across your own skin and through your hair, suspending it all in the air long enough for her to get a good glance at the exposed skin of your neck and hickeys from someone who wasn’t her. Slowly you stood again, rocking your hips back and forth as and circled her seat. She hadn't taken much of a sip from her drink and so from behind you snatched the floating cherry stem from its alcohol soaked entrapment. When you could see her eyes again, you reached to wrap your left hand around her jaw, forcing it open as you allowed the cherry to hover over your outstretched tongue then flicking it inside of her mouth. Of course she caught on and separated the cherry from its stem and you dropped what was left of it back into the drink. “Oh no, you know it will always just be me.”
From there you made your way back to the stage and concluded the set. Exiting the stage, you caught the view of a faint glow upon Ellie's face as was seemingly typing away furiously upon that screen. When you finally got to the dressing room your phone had lit up with a flurry of messages from the distressed brunette. The first about how beautiful you were, next demanding you keep your costume on, followed by how much she wanted to ruin your pretty makeup and finally concluding it all by asking if you could just come outside for a moment. And of course she got the better of you. Frankly you were turned on by how desperate she looked and sounded. Maybe you’d punished her for long enough? Washington got cold fast and by early November snowfall was impending so you grabbed your fleece and made for the back door where-to nobody’s surprise-Ellie was parked almost directly in front of the door whilst leaning against the passenger door waiting for you. 
“It’s good to see you.” She spoke as she moved to open the door for you to get in.
With only inches between your lungs, you crossed your arms stopping dead in your tracks. “That’s not what you said to me Ellie. You asked me for a moment, not a damn joyride.”
The brunette rolled her eyes, now dropping her crossed arms to motion at the enormous building behind you. “Can you just listen to me for five minutes (†)?” she sighed loudly before continuing on in an almost pleading tone. “You just gave me a fucking amazing show and the place is obviously about to close. The least I can do is congratulate you on all this, because I haven't heard a lick from you in the last two weeks and suddenly you've become a damn good showgirl.”
Avoiding the situation, you sniffled at the bitter cold before gliding inside of her leather interior. “I’m freezing.”
She was quick to slam the door shut, mumbling something about you irritating her as she made her way back around to the driver’s side. Humming quietly, the speakers inside said what she refused to say aloud, “Why don't you show me a little bit of spine you’ve been saving for his mattress. I only want your sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me.” And of course you would've done just that, but it was only fair that you made the process difficult. Too many times had you easily given into her apologies within hours. Truthfully you missed her and the way she fucked you, but don’t get it twisted, it wasn’t that Abby hadn’t been easily laying you to rest when you couldn't see Ellie and vice versa, but why have only one pretty girl in your life when you could have two of them? It was pure and utter unapologetic greed.
As she had previously requested, you kept the same lingerie from earlier on; a pair of fishnet tights, low rising short shorts decorated by black sequins with a matching bustier so low cut that she was surprised it had not warranted one nip slip throughout the entire show. A plethora of golden cuffs spanned either of your biceps while a frilled garter belt adorned your left thigh and your hair, she couldn't even begin to speak on those perfect ringlets and how they framed your face, cascading down your shoulders into ink blotted waterfalls. The charm decorated braids placed sporadically around your head were always the cherry on top of it all because she loved how she could always hear you coming before she actually saw you; waiting like a dog with perked ears for a treat. 
After her door was closed and locked you turned to face the girl, now ready to lay bare whatever needed to be said and done. “Well?” You taunted, sliding your feet from their heeled prisons and bringing your legs up to your chest to sit comfortably.
Ellie adjusted the gear before she moved to reach behind the head of your seat , reversing out of the parking lot. Her eyes darted over to you then back on the road, laughing dryly as she responded. “Please don’t play stupid with me (†). We both know why you’re in my car.” 
You opened your mouth to speak then decided against it, staring out of the window with crossed arms when you responded. “How did you even find out where I work at Ellie?”
She laughed before placing a hand on your thigh, playfulling squeezing the tender tissue. “I knew that I only had to look for the most glamorous place around. Besides, Jessie really doesn’t like conflict.”
“And who the fuck are you, going around asking my friends about me Ellie?”
“He’s my friend too. I don’t understand why you have to be so damn difficult when you’re sitting barefoot in my car. I can’t think of any other reason you’d be undressing yourself already.” You’d been so busy pretending to be mad at her that you hadn’t realized that the car had just come to a stop in an empty parking lot, with only the faint illumination of a nearby lamppost to reveal the silhouette of her face in a warm wash of light.
Finally you decided to face her, “Maybe I’ve decided to change things up. I like hearing you whine, Ellie.” her gaze softened, eyebrows raised as a smirk played at the corner of her mouth fighting to reveal itself. 
Ellie reoriented herself to lean on the center console, partially to close the space between the two of you and also to allow her eyes finally a better view, mentally undressing your figure in the process. “You’re so demanding (†).”
You leaned in, whispering a final retort before closing the gap. “I get off to being worshiped by you, Ellie.” 
You could feel the girl smiling into the kiss as her fingers entrenched your curls, holding them tightly in a delicate cluster. After the two of you finally pulled apart a string of saliva had remained connecting you both until you’d moved far enough to break the thin bond. Her eyes were darker now, thinking of the ways she could mold you into whatever she wanted in this car. “Get in the backseat,” she demanded breathlessly. The girl then increased the volume of her music before she joined you back there, the next track being ‘Is It Really You’ from Loathe.
The two of you fought like swordsmen to control the encounter, Ellie forcing you into the cold glass of the window when she was the one kissing you and then switching to Ellie restrained with her head to the leather when you were the one kissing her. You sat straddling her lap, one leg folded up along her hip and the other fallen between the leg space separating the front and back seats. Your fingers threaded through her hair as an arm moved to gently squeeze your throat, locking you in place as the other reached around, palming your ass for a couple seconds before she snuck a finger around the ribbon holding your bustier together, tugging at the material. “So fuckin pretty,” she gasped between the dancing of your tongues. “Put your arms up.” You did as told with a careless disregard for the long process of getting that thing back on after all of this was over. You just wanted her all over you now. 
Ellie was a mess as she watched the reveal of your breast falling free from the bustier, instantly taking a taunt bud into her mouth and tweaking the other in her fingers. You moaned at the shockwaves it sent echoing down your body straight to your pussy, but there were no breaks to this ride. 
You didn’t even realize her fingers had already peeled back the crotch of your shorts when the sound of your fishnets ripping under her grasp brought you back down to reality. The air was cold against your clothed, sticky cunt as it begged for room to breathe. Her fingers began massaging small circles onto the inflamed pearl, already wet enough for it to stick to your panties. “All this dancing around the fuckin’ questions I ask you,” she laughed over your hushed moans before stopping to slap your desperate pussy. “Tryna pretend you didn't want this, but you’re so fucking wet already (†).” 
You’d forgotten who you were under her hold. Somehow it had become so embarrassing to be as bratty as you were, deliberately pissing her off in order to earn a good fucking, sitting there with your eyes screwed up and a hand over your mouth, silencing the pornographic noises attempting to escape your throat over mere dry humping. “Come back to me baby; You don't get to run away.” she teased, resulting in an aggressive hickey pressed into the skin above your nipple. Another electrifying shock when she bit down and in that same moment sneaking her digits into your panties to now perform an inhumane assault on your pink parts. “I wanna hear you.” The vulgar brunette hummed.
“How many times did she make you cum?”
Your eyes threatened to shut closed again, nearing the verge of pleasure filled tears sliding down your perfectly powdered cheeks, “What baby?”
“Abby.” At this point she was starting to sound annoyed, picking up the pace.
Out squealed a voice that you hadn't known could even come from within, “I don't know.”
“Then we should start counting how many I can put you through.”
Just as you could see the horizon of your orgasm approaching she retracted her fingers from the sopping canal, earning an exasperated whine on your end. She took your jaw into her left hand, turning your face away from her as she drug her tongue down your skin, biting at it rougher than she normally was-like there was something to be proven. “You want me to fuck you real bad huh?” She gloated, hooking a finger around the seat of your undies and running her digits along your slit, collecting more than enough slick for it to run down her fingers and onto her palm “Yeah?” She continued, pushing two fingers into your hole without warning. 
“Please,” was all that you could muster, grinding your hips onto her fingers for any sort of additional pressure. Almost there. Like clockwork she caught onto what you were attempting and stopped you dead in your tracks with her fingers having gone limp and the other hand holding your hips in place. 
“Now, you know better than that.” She spoke imitating faux-empathy, “especially when we’re like this with each other.” Because normally after arguing the two of you fucked it out and at some point during the transaction someone apologized resulting in an orgasm for the other but for now this was world’s nastiest game of chicken. In passing moments, she began again, fingers curving directly into that spot that made you see stars in the night, a hand placed on your hips rocking them back and forth. “C’mon baby, fuck yourself for me.” And you damn sure rode her like it was nothing, eyebrows knit together as you focused your entire being on getting off. It didn't even take a whole minute for you to get there, and Ellie grinned at her handy work, but this was only the beginning. “One. That’s a good girl.” Your legs shook in reaction to her aggression and you attempted to stop her fingers from continuing on, wrapping your own around her steady wrist.
“Move your hands (†).” She ordered as your eyes began to water from the overstimulation.
“I can’t.” You pleaded in broken whimpers.
All she could do was laugh at you again, offering encouragement as if this was nothing to her. “You will. I need to hear that shit real loud on my dick.” Those words alone were enough to send you through another fiery orgasm. You swore your moans were loud enough to be heard beyond the entrapment of this car and Ellie liked pushing herself to see just how loud she could get you. “Two. It was that easy.”
Stiff fabric was good for hiding things just as she had until now, exposing the strap on that you had assumed to have been her phone in her pocket earlier. Ellie took you into her arms, rearranging the two of you where she was now the one on top and your head resting against the door’s storage compartment. “You ready baby?” she enquired, taking a minute to kiss your cheeks. You nodded, cunt throbbing for more as she watched it produce more of that thick hot arousal. 
“You got the prettiest pussy in the world, (†).” She began, taking the plastic dick into her hand and tracing your slit, bewitched by the beautiful glass shine of your cum dripping down onto the leather seat as if an antiquated romantic painting. In that moment the guilt came flowing down her conscious for everything. Just wanted to make up for it by making you feel good. “Fuck, I can’t wait,” the girl whined, slowly pushing herself into you, feeling her own wetness completely entrenching her boxers and making its way for her thighs. The way your hair laid along the car interior, fanning out around you like a headdress made her melt, stopping to kiss you again before she began stroking slowly, making sure to allow you time to adjust to the feeling of fullness. 
“More,” You pleaded, beginning the process of catching her rhythm in your hips. 
“Yeah?” She answered, taking your thighs into her hands and sliding them over her shoulders, thrusting deeper for a couple of moments. “Feel good?” You struggled to formulate a coherent response and decided on simply nodding between moans. Ellie took this as a sign to make up for lost time, fucking into you with such force you were sure she could feel it on her own end, getting closer to finally cumming. 
“Like that! Just like that!” ripped a scream from your lungs, satisfied with her rhythm having at last caught onto matching with her. She thought you were too fucking gorgeous of a girl that just looking at you had her loosing it, just seeing your expressions and the way your tits bounced so beautifully, revealing the stretch marks on their underside that she so loved to trace when the two of you laid in bed together; a live erotic portrait unable to be topped by even the masters themselves. Your arms locked around Ellie’s neck, taking her hostage in your grasp and moaning feverishly into the girl’s ears. Before one could get past your lips another would come, choking you on your own pleasure. “So fuckin good El’s.” If she was doing everything right then you wouldn’t have been able to speak, so she slipped an arm between your stomach and hers, pressing your abdomen down  while the other arm kept you locked in place for her to use and abuse. You yelped, surprised by the added pressure, now feeling her deeper than before. Your hands loosed around her neck, digging into her back possibly even drawing blood.
“Take it, pretty girl.” she cooed, wanting everyone on the street to know her name and how good she made you feel. Didn’t matter how late into the night it was. It wasn't long until you came unraveled under her, your thighs clenching in anticipation for the coming waves of your climax. “Atta girl, I got you,” she whispered, continuing her dangerous pounding. A banshee would’ve been disturbed by the sound of you two. Of course Ellie always had to get the last laugh. “Three,” she sighed, wiping away the beads of sweat that had formed on her clammy forehead, bits of her fringe stuck adhered to the skin. "Forgive me?"
Would you guys be interesting in full length fic? I had lot of fun writing this. :p
Original Release: 11/7/24 Edit: 11/8/24
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lvnleah · 14 days ago
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Could you please do Steph Cayley x reader where reader is recovering from acl surgey and Steph is being all cute and protective.
nurse catley | steph catley.
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thank you for this request! bit of a short one :)
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The soft hum of the car’s engine filled the quiet space, a soothing backdrop to the clunk of the crutches resting in the back seat. You were slouched against the passenger seat, the effects of the painkillers making you drowsy and slow. The ACL surgery was done — one hurdle cleared, but the long road to recovery loomed ahead.
Steph’s hand was warm where it rested on your thigh, her thumb drawing soft, absentminded circles through the blanket she’d tucked around you before leaving the hospital. Her other hand gripped the steering wheel, and her eyes kept darting between you and the road.
“How’re you feeling?” she asked softly, breaking the silence.
“Like I got hit by a truck,” you mumbled, your voice raspier than usual. The post-op grogginess still clung to you, but even that couldn’t hide the exhaustion in your tone.
Steph glanced over, “We’ll get you settled on the couch as soon as we’re home. I’ve already set up pillows and everything. You’re not moving a muscle until you’re comfortable.”
You smiled faintly, her fussing filling your chest with a familiar warmth. “Steph, I’ll be fine.”
Her eyes flicked back to you, stern yet soft. “Babe, you had surgery less than 24 hours ago. You’re not doing anything by yourself.”
“Okay, Nurse Catley,” you teased, though your voice lacked its usual energy.
She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth quirked up. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t go overboard.”
By the time you reached the house, you were more than ready to get out of the car, but Steph was having none of your attempts at independence.
“Stay there,” she ordered, jumping out and rushing around to your side before you could even attempt to unbuckle yourself.
“Steph, I can—”
“You can sit still and let me take care of you,” she interrupted, her tone firm but loving. She crouched down to carefully swing your legs out of the car, her movements gentle and deliberate.
Once she had you upright and balanced on your crutches, she looped an arm around your waist for extra support, guiding you toward the house.
Inside, she helped you ease onto the couch, fluffing the mountain of pillows she’d set up beforehand. A tray with water, snacks, and your meds was already waiting on the coffee table.
“You’ve thought of everything,” you murmured, touched by the effort she’d put in.
Steph sat down beside you, tucking a blanket around your legs before placing them on her lap. “Of course I have,” she said simply, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “This is going to be tough, but we’re in this together. One day at a time, yeah?”
You nodded, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “Thank you, Steph. For everything.”
She leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Always.”
The next few days were a haze of painkillers, rest, and Steph’s constant presence. She wasn’t just hovering — she was there at every moment.
“Here,” she said one afternoon, handing you a mug of tea just the way you liked it. She perched on the edge of the couch, watching as you adjusted the pillows under your leg. “How’s the pain today?”
“Better,” you admitted. “Still sore, but manageable.”
Steph tilted her head, studying you. “Are you sure? Don’t downplay it.”
You chuckled softly. “I’m sure, love. You don’t have to worry so much.”
“That’s like telling the sun not to shine,” she shot back, her lips twitching into a smile.
It was true. Steph had taken her role as your nurse seriously, from making sure you stayed hydrated to reminding you to do your post-op exercises. Even when you grumbled about the discomfort, she was there, encouraging and patient.
One morning, as you attempted to shuffle from the couch to the bathroom, Steph appeared out of nowhere, her hands steadying your arms.
“I’ve got it,” you insisted, gripping the crutches tightly.
“You’re stumbling, lemme help,” she replied, unwavering.
You sighed, relenting as she walked beside you, her hand hovering just in case you stumbled.
Back on the couch, she draped the blanket over you again and settled down with her laptop. “Football emails?” you asked, nodding toward the screen.
“Just emails about when I’ll be back,” she said, her tone dismissive. “I’ve told them I won’t be for another week.”
Your heart clenched. “Steph, you didn’t have to do that.”
She closed the laptop and turned to face you, her expression soft but resolute. “Of course I did. You’re my priority. Football can wait.”
Later that evening, as you both lounged on the couch, Steph insisted on putting on one of your favourite movies. “Distractions are good,” she said, tucking you into her side.
“You’re the best distraction,” you murmured, your head resting against her shoulder.
She chuckled, her arm wrapping around you securely. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
As the days turned into weeks, Steph’s care never wavered. She cheered for every small milestone, from your first successful step without crutches to the day you managed to shower on your own.
But her favourite moments were the quiet ones — when she’d catch you smiling at her after she adjusted your pillows for the tenth time, or when you’d fall asleep mid-conversation, your hand still loosely holding hers.
Through it all, Steph’s love was unwavering, her care a constant reminder that you weren’t in this alone. With her by your side, recovery didn’t seem so daunting after all.
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