Podcasts about clutching

Laurie, Mark & Scott discuss the defeat to Dundee United, Hearts' top six chances and the next game against Motherwell at Fir Park. Sponsored by Forrest Hepburn & McDonald Signs […]

Lords: * Erica * Jenni Topics: * The chaos you missed * Having a baby is like being assigned a set of hobbies you don't necessarily care about but are expected to engage in full-time * Do people actually live longer in Greece and Japan or do they just have more pension fraud? * Too Many Women Become Desperate, by Infinite Sexy Marriage * https://bsky.app/profile/infinitesexy.bsky.social/post/3lcxskqdmoc26 * Is it possible to never show your kid Cocomelon and they never demand to be shown Cocomelon or are they gonna find out about it through osmosis Microtopics: * Beneficial nematodes: are they really that good? * How to pronounce "iykyk." * Singing "beneficial nematodes" to the tune of Hall of the Mountain King. * Going extreme on the melismas. * The Saying Hi Chamber. * Shazam chastising you for singing. * 100 MIDIs that some Chinese intern threw together in a couple of hours and now every baby is going to grow up with these tunes in their heads. * Inventing a new way to live that's worse in every respect. * Having dinner with a friend while grandma puts the kid to bed. * A baby getting upset because he isn't staring at geometric shapes right now. * Making sure the baby makes all the right neural connections and not the wrong ones. * A video of a guy walking down every street in Vice City. * Twenty minutes of people icing cakes. Not the really fancy cakes, just regular-ass cakes. * Clutching at your face as the cake icer puts red next to brown. * Caking Bad. * A coup amongst the Smithsonian National Zoo's naked mole rats. * Stabbing your mom with your teeth so that you can breed. * A horrible skin creature with prehensile chopsticks. * Eusocial mammals. * Growing extra vertebrae every time you give birth. * A Topic Lords field trip to the naked mole rat colony to meet the new queen. * Intervertebral red shift. * EBF, EFF and EP. * Wake windows and contact naps. * Holding them like a football and making a sandwich and putting the sandwich in the football, and now you're breastfeeding! * Whether it's ethical to leave your baby at the Burger King or if you need to go fast casual. * The poop potato who has opinions. * You gotta draw the line somewhere, and it's sweeping the floor. * All the things you're not supposed to put in the crib with the baby. * Replacing your baby with a gerbil because you're not allowed to kiss your baby on the forehead in case you have a cold sore. * How to tell if a gerbil has been replaced with a similar gerbil. * Paying $7/month for the NYT crossword but not getting access to the articles so you click on the crossword constructors' notes but you're already at your three free article limit. * Anthrocyanins. * Cynical Jim says yes, Regular Jim says maybe. * The most domesticated mammal: man. * Small Japanese women having the longest lifespans because they hide in your crawlspace and death cannot find them. * Old ladies? In my duct work? * Hoping there are no old ladies living in your duct work because you haven't cleaned in s while and there are probably mold spores in there * Poop Songs for Roy. * Thinking of the shrieking old lady as a sonic shower for you duct work. * The future-episodes channel, where we discuss episodes that may one day exist. * Remember that time when you retweeted a thing and it turned into a picture of a fish. * The ransom note on top of peach tarts aesthetic. * Welcome to lesbianism. Here is your greeting card with peaches. * Whether reverse image search is bad now or if it was always bad. * The Poem is Entertaining. * Speculative fiction about soviets invading. * The kind of poem you'd read in feminist bookstores in the early 00s. * Children's YouTube channels full about new wave songs about trucks. * Showing your child only OG Sesame Street episodes so they can't relate to adults or children their own age and are technically Xennials. * Xennial Warrior Princess. * Everything's more true when you're wearing pants. * The 25th place you can post pictures of your baby. * The legend of Shrimptaur. * Hide in the discord and never post. * Finally writing the tweet that's going to make John Hodgman unfollow you

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This episode is just as spooky as it is silly. Jo and Des discuss dreams, ghosts, Idiots and more.     0:00 Intro 1:00 Diddy Krueger 5:27 Sex Sleep Demons 6:54 Sleep Twitching 8:36 Sleep Apnea 12:29 Crazy Baby 19:29 Ghost Jo 21:35 Astral Projecting 23:03 Family Ghost 33:55 Haunted Houses 42:08 Dream meanings 51:09 Idiots

Hunched over a manual typewriter, Itzhak Stern worked through the night, tapping out names—1,098 in all. The names comprised a list of Jewish workers protected from the Nazis by factory owner Oskar Schindler. Clutching the document, Stern declared, “The list is an absolute good. The list is life.” Those named on its pages would survive the Holocaust. In 2012, it was estimated that the descendants of the survivors numbered 8,500. The Bible contains its share of lists. We tend to skip them. Too many names; too much repetition. We might even say today’s reading is . . . boring. “The descendants of Judah by their clans were: through Shelah, the Shelanite clan; through Perez, the Perezite clan . . .” (Numbers 26:20). Who cares? God cares! “These were the Israelites who came out of Egypt,” says the historical record (v. 4). Soon the people would inhabit the land promised to them. And one day, Messiah would come from this very clan of Judah. The list is life, not only for the Jewish people but for all who trust in Jesus. We know of Oskar Schindler’s list from the powerful film Schindler’s List and historical records. We know of God’s great salvation from the story recorded for us in the Bible. As we read, may His Spirit show us the worth of even the lists. They have something to say to us too.

There were glimpses of a livelier, more dangerous Chelsea in the defeat at Villa, but it was still another defeat. Mouch and Chas. are joined by the delightful Mike Grady to try to see the bright side, and to preview the Southampton match. chelseapodcast.net  @chelseapodcast  Produced by Paul Myers and Mike Leigh  A Playback Media Production  playbackmedia.co.uk  Copyright 2025 Playback Media Ltd - playbackmedia.co.uk/copyright Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

1But the people of Israel broke faith in regard to the devoted things, for Achan the son of Carmi, son of Zabdi, son of Zerah, of the tribe of Judah, took some of the devoted things. And the anger of the Lord burned against the people of Israel.2Joshua sent men from Jericho to Ai, which is near Beth-aven, east of Bethel, and said to them, “Go up and spy out the land.” And the men went up and spied out Ai. 3And they returned to Joshua and said to him, “Do not have all the people go up, but let about two or three thousand men go up and attack Ai. Do not make the whole people toil up there, for they are few.” 4So about three thousand men went up there from the people. And they fled before the men of Ai, 5and the men of Ai killed about thirty-six of their men and chased them before the gate as far as Shebarim and struck them at the descent. And the hearts of the people melted and became as water.6Then Joshua tore his clothes and fell to the earth on his face before the ark of the Lord until the evening, he and the elders of Israel. And they put dust on their heads. 7And Joshua said, “Alas, O Lord God, why have you brought this people over the Jordan at all, to give us into the hands of the Amorites, to destroy us? Would that we had been content to dwell beyond the Jordan! 8O Lord, what can I say, when Israel has turned their backs before their enemies! 9For the Canaanites and all the inhabitants of the land will hear of it and will surround us and cut off our name from the earth. And what will you do for your great name?”The Sin of Achan10The Lord said to Joshua, “Get up! Why have you fallen on your face? 11Israel has sinned; they have transgressed my covenant that I commanded them; they have taken some of the devoted things; they have stolen and lied and put them among their own belongings. 12Therefore the people of Israel cannot stand before their enemies. They turn their backs before their enemies, because they have become devoted for destruction. I will be with you no more, unless you destroy the devoted things from among you. 13Get up! Consecrate the people and say, ‘Consecrate yourselves for tomorrow; for thus says the Lord, God of Israel, “There are devoted things in your midst, O Israel. You cannot stand before your enemies until you take away the devoted things from among you.” 14In the morning therefore you shall be brought near by your tribes. And the tribe that the Lord takes by lot shall come near by clans. And the clan that the Lord takes shall come near by households. And the household that the Lord takes shall come near man by man. 15And he who is taken with the devoted things shall be burned with fire, he and all that he has, because he has transgressed the covenant of the Lord, and because he has done an outrageous thing in Israel.'”16So Joshua rose early in the morning and brought Israel near tribe by tribe, and the tribe of Judah was taken. 17And he brought near the clans of Judah, and the clan of the Zerahites was taken. And he brought near the clan of the Zerahites man by man, and Zabdi was taken. 18And he brought near his household man by man, and Achan the son of Carmi, son of Zabdi, son of Zerah, of the tribe of Judah, was taken. 19Then Joshua said to Achan, “My son, give glory to the Lord God of Israel and give praise to him. And tell me now what you have done; do not hide it from me.” 20And Achan answered Joshua, “Truly I have sinned against the Lord God of Israel, and this is what I did: 21when I saw among the spoil a beautiful cloak from Shinar, and 200 shekels of silver, and a bar of gold weighing 50 shekels, then I coveted them and took them. And see, they are hidden in the earth inside my tent, with the silver underneath.”22So Joshua sent messengers, and they ran to the tent; and behold, it was hidden in his tent with the silver underneath.

The PM team are joined by Mikey Kay, Andrew "Barnsley" Wood and Martin Jakubski to conclude their look at the singles from Clutching at Straws - This time it's Warm Wet Circles.The usual Charting the Single features are included...bsides, video, chart performance and artwork...along with more of Barnsley 's "facts you never knew...." !

The PM team are joined by Mikey Kay, Andrew "Barnsley" Wood and Martin Jakubski to take a look at the second single from Clutching at Straws - Sugar Mice.The usual Charting the Single features are included...bsides, video, chart performance and artwork...along with Barnsley 's "facts you never knew" slot!Look out for "Charting the Single - Warm Wet Circles" - coming soon!

Mezza & Craig are joined by Andrew "Barnsley" Wood, Martin Jakubski (Lead singer of both the Steve Rothery Band and StillMarillion) and Mikie Kay, to discuss the first single from "Clutching at Straws" - "Incommunicado". This mini pod chat includes the promo video, the history of the song, the Bsides, formats and lots more besides. Look out for our "Sugar Mice" and "Warm Wet Circles" episodes coming up VERY soon.

Rachel Reeves' latest growth speech has failed to convince one curious listener.George Eaton and Rachel Cunliffe join Hannah Barnes for a special listener questions episode. They tackle your questions on Labour's latest intervention on growth, which George describes as an "attempt" at a vibe shift. They also discuss whether Keir Starmer and Rachel Reeves have a charisma problem, as well as one listener who asks if the media should be giving the Liberal Democrats more attention.Ask a question for us to answer in a future episode: www.newstatesman.com/youaskusGet more politics coverage every day direct to your email inbox by signing up for our daily politics newsletter: morningcall.substack.comSave money on a New Statesman subscription to get full access to all our reporting and analysis from just £5 for your first 5 weeks: www.newstatesman.com/jan25 Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Two stories of scholarly lasses with healthy libidos.Based on the posts by Select Redux. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Stimulating ReadingSexual adventures amid the bookshelves.Unlocking the big oak doors, Emily glances up at the Spring sun filtering through the stained-glass windows of the 'Institute'. Originally endowed by a Victorian benefactor, now part of a modern university, this old building goes unnoticed by most people passing by on this bright 1993 morning.The research library within opens just three days a week with Emily, its part-time librarian, fitting the job around her PhD studies. Some colleagues consider it a fusty backwater; Emily rather enjoys the church-like surroundings, lofty ceilings and marble floors, and calm, quiet ambience.Starting the day as usual at 8.45am, Emily turns on the lights, picks up the post and then sits at the front desk waiting for students to arrive. The job isn't the most exacting; mainly helping undergraduates locate obscure books, its perk being plenty of time to write her thesis and, blush-making to admit, peruse the rather splendid erotica section. Something that's become a bit of a habit, leaving her distracted and almost perpetually aroused.This 'special collection' is kept locked; its key is supposedly secure in a safe; in fact on a chain around Emily's neck. Currently 'in between boyfriends' (no, not like that!) in truth modern men, mostly boys inhabiting adult bodies in her opinion, don't do it for Emily. Call her traditional, she wants someone old-fashioned.Emily's romantic, bookish outlook on life sometimes feels unsuited to modern times and is exemplified by today's attire: cardigan, blouse, and a string of pearls, the epitome of respectability; a typical librarian. A knee-length skirt, sensible shoes, minimal makeup and glasses habitually perched upon her head complete the academic look. However, underneath one (who? she reflects glumly) might be surprised to find some almost sinfully brief lingerie adorning her trim figure. Perhaps not so conservative;Later that afternoon, Emily looks at her watch, half an hour until closing, not likely to see anyone else today she thinks. Wrongly, because striding confidently through the rotating door and purposefully approaching her desk is a new customer. In contrast to the usual scruffy students (although arguably the lecturers are worse) he's smartly dressed. Wearing a tie in fact; Emily likes a chap in a suit and his fits very well. This tall man with silvery grey hair favors her with a confident smile and Emily melts inside, lust at first sight.Michael, they are quickly on first name terms, is a postgrad mature student working on the final dissertation of an English literature MA. He's taken a couple of weeks' leave from an unspecified (Emily suspects high-powered and well-remunerated) job to complete it. Meaning, she sends a silent prayer of thanks to whichever celestial deity might be responsible, he'll be making frequent trips to the library. Visits she soon begins to eagerly anticipate, feeling disproportionately disappointed on days when this charming, personable and undoubtedly assertive man doesn't appear. Get a grip girl, chides her inner voice, whatever your fantasies this is a purely professional relationship."What did you do before studying," she enquires one morning."Came from money, followed the family tradition into the City and made some more," he shrugs. "Clichéd thing for a privileged person to say but it didn't make me happy.""What does?""Good writing, which explains why I'm here in literary mode, how about you?""A very bright kid from a feckless, under-achieving family; got a scholarship, got out of my dead-end town and got a higher education. Not having money means I have to take a series of dull jobs to pay my way." There's no need to make her point any more strongly, Michael gets the implication."I detect a steely determination," he responds without rancor."Academically, yes," she agrees, "in order to remain with my beloved books, but unfashionable though it is I'd happily be rescued by a knight in shining armor. Will you be my knight?" Christ, she thinks, where did that come from? Silly mare you've blown it now."If you'll be my damsel in distress I'd be delighted," Michael answers lightly, but a die has been cast."What are you working on today?" he enquires conversationally when next visiting."These books were recently acquired for the special collections section. I'm trying to catalogue them," she explains, outwardly serene, but heart beating fast."Ah the erotica," Michael raises a knowing eyebrow, "better leave you to it then." He turns to a nearby table with a couple of hefty tomes and commences making notes while covertly observing Emily, absently twirling a lock of hair with one hand, the other no longer on the table but underneath. Much later, abruptly jolted from a pleasurable reverie by his shadow, Emily becomes abruptly aware of Michael's looming presence."You're spending a lot of time on books from that particular genre," he says, it isn't a question."Well; " she stammers."Perhaps that's why you've twice left the University's precious erotica shelves unlocked lately?"Her eyes widen in shock. "How did you know?" It's true, no point in denying the fact."I notice things. An accident I'm sure, but rather careless, some might even say naughty. Are you naughty Emily?" Silence, the cat has got her tongue. "Do you deserve to be punished? Might that be a better solution than the matter being brought to the attention of the Vice-Chancellor?" Michael presses home his advantage. "Those rare editions are extremely valuable. Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson, bought to book one might say." Emily gets the joke, but it's no laughing matter."Punished; lesson?" she stammers, "what do you mean?""I think you know to what I'm referring, you've read enough about spanking, no doubt wondered what it might be like. I don't believe you're as innocent as you pretend Emily, I saw you slide a hand under your skirt just then. Most unprofessional, you deserve to have your bottom smacked.""Oh; " Overwhelmed by his quiet certainty that she'll obey, Ellie discovers in herself a complimentary willingness to defer; feels her pussy throbbing with desire at every word Michael utters. This is ridiculous, thinks her rational brain, I'm an independent woman, he's no right to demand my obedience. But you know you want to, responds her libidinous subconscious, you've so often dreamt of such a scenario, and how you'd willingly submit;She nods anxiously towards the door. With an unreadable expression, Michael walks purposefully towards the entrance, locks it and returns."Bad girls require discipline," he whispers in her ear."They do, sir," she meekly agrees."Come here." Emily stands next to him, hands behind her back."Turn around and lean forward against the desk."Deferentially, eyes downcast, Emily complies; wrapping his left arm around her slender waist Michael slowly, and deliberately raises her skirt. Emily wishes her boobs were just a little bigger; wishes her arse was just a little smaller but knows her lovely legs are just right. Now so does he.A grunt of male disapproval, "I don't like tights," he tugs her pantyhose down revealing flawless bottom cheeks, "next time I expect you to wear stockings." Next time, who said anything about next time? Despite her mounting panic, Emily has an epiphany of understanding; Michael's coercion is more implied than actual, less of a threat by him as a need within her. He runs his hands appreciatively over her pristine, unmarked bottom then tugs those unexpectedly racy, almost transparent black panties up hard into Emily's damp divide, the silken scrap disappearing between puffy pussy lips, chafing her swollen clit."Turns you on doesn't it" he growls, holding her tightly."Yes, but I'm scared," she whispers and it's true, the physical proximity and her helplessness in the hands of an alpha male are more exciting than anything Emily has ever before encountered.Emily tenses, holding her breath, awaiting the inevitable; yet the initial smack still catches her by surprise. At first, it's mainly about the ringing percussive sound, a numbing shock. Prudently Michael allows a pause, he can tell it's her first time. Gradually her skin pinkens and a sharp stinging sensation suffuses Emily's posterior."Oh," she looks at him wide-eyed, "oh yes," amazed by her compliance with the punitive intentions of a man she scarcely knows. A second spank, slightly harder this time."Feeling it now aren't you," Michael mutters, "rather different from in the stories you're so keen on?" True, the reality of what before was only fevered fiction is raw and immediate." I'll stop if you ask me to," he adds."Surely not when I've been so wicked," Emily replies huskily. The scene is set, and his hard palm strikes her bottom repeatedly as Michael methodically and unhurriedly continues, Emily's body responding animatedly to the burning sensation gradually suffusing her derriere."Keep still," he commands as she squirms in a futile attempt to dissipate the smart.Eventually, Emily has no idea how long, five minutes, or an eternity, Michael ceases her chastisement. Both are breathing heavily now, albeit for different reasons. He slides a hand up her inner thigh and under her knickers."Good girl," Michael whispers, pushing an exploratory digit into Emily's sopping sex. She shuts her eyes and moves against his fingers, Emily is needy, alas, her evident excitement is unrequited. Taking her by the shoulders, Michael turns the shaken young woman to face the wall."Make yourself respectable," he instructs in a tone countenancing no dissent, "don't move until I've left, no rubbing your bottom, or anywhere else. I'll let myself out," he kisses the top of her head, "and be back soon to do one final bit piece of research, don't miss me too much."And then he's gone; taken Emily to the edge and abandoned her unsatisfied. Which, thinks Emily, bottom glowing fiercely, is truly sadistic. Simmering with sexual awakening, she's no intention of being denied. Walking stiffly towards her chair Emily sits, wincing as her tender buttocks contact with the seat. Legs spread and eyes closed she pushes a hand down the front of her panties and addresses her pent-up frustration with flying fingers, and soon has a shattering orgasm.On Monday morning, after a weekend mentally replaying this momentous encounter, and multiple flouting of Michael's embargo on masturbation, Emily walks into work full of hope for what the new week may bring. Inwardly more confident, her outward appearance has also altered. She's taken more care with makeup, mascara and her favorite cherry red lipstick. Does her best not to tug down her hem at every step. Emily hasn't previously worn such a short skirt and worries people may notice she's wearing stockings. Once at work, it's business as usual, albeit with some appreciative glances from borrowers, being desired is an unfamiliar but welcome ego boost. Emboldened, Emily experiments with undoing the second button of her blouse.She can't conceal her unhappiness when Michael fails to arrive and becomes increasingly despondent when he doesn't turn up on Tuesday and Wednesday either. By Thursday she's almost lost hope. Turning to the erotica collection for comfort a photograph falls from between the pages of a book on 'Le Vice Anglaise'. Emily looks aghast, Michael! But it can't be, the date scribbled on the back is 1936, does her dom have a doppelganger? All too much of a conundrum to deal with in her overwrought state, Emily locks up early and heads disconsolately home.On Friday she settles onto her stool and re-opens the same book. Was Michael ever really here, she wonders? Could this have been some sort of hallucination, an epic instance of self-delusion? Of course not, get real, examine the facts, she inwardly chides. Consider the evidence of two days of sitting gingerly, the finger marks on your sore buttocks visible in the mirror. She was spanked alright, the pertinent question being whether she will see Michael again, let alone reach the sexual conclusion so ardently desired. Not being clairvoyant, Emily doesn't have a clue about either outcome, for now, she tells herself sternly, you'd better get on with some work. Mentally listing the day's mundane tasks Emily doesn't notice a familiar figure quietly enter the building until he's immediately adjacent. Caught unawares her incipient shout of shock is stifled by his hand."I'll remove it from your mouth," his voice whispers, "if you promise not to scream, understood?" Emily remains frozen, struggling to get to grips with her predicament, then nods assent."Where did you appear from?" she enquires in a small voice."Not important right now," he shushes."Your picture; " She points at the faded sepia print on the table."My father," he laughs, "chip off the old block, aren't I? Long gone, of course, he put up the money to establish the erotica collection you've so much enjoyed." Helping the shaken young woman to her feet he moves Emily to face a bookcase."Just relax," he says calmly, trailing a hand teasingly up and down the back of her thighs."Relax," she tenses at the suggestion, "when I don't know what you intend to do.""I think you can hazard a pretty accurate prediction," he teases."I'm quite sure you're planning to punish me again," says Emily shivering with anticipation at the thought, "what might occur afterwards is what's preoccupying me.""What do you hope happens?" he enquires, lips brushing the nape of her neck."I think you can make a very good guess," Emily replies cheekily.Right now, she can't think of anything she wouldn't let him do, Emily has read many salacious books and has a vivid imagination."I'm enjoying your new look," says Michael appreciatively, "let's explore beneath; " He unbuttons her blouse to the waist, frees her boobs and rolls each erect nipple in turn between finger and thumb. In response, Emily kisses him hard on the mouth, her acquiescence clearly in no doubt. His other hand slips between her thighs and encounters wetness between them. Emily moans at this touch, yearning to be penetrated by the hard cock she can feel bulging through his trousers and pressing against her thigh."You'll endure a harsher correction this time," he murmurs, bending Emily across the desk while removing his belt."The door", she gestures urgently.He shrugs off her concern. "We'll just have to take the chance; I find a little jeopardy adds a frisson of excitement." Wrestling up the short, tight skirt exposes the soft curves of Emily's hips and beautiful bottom; Michael monetarily enjoys the sight, and then pulls her knickers down and off."Someone wants to be fucked pretty badly," he observes, a hint of amusement in his voice as he glimpses her damp, pouting slit. With no warning he straps Emily, hard and fast, leaving blazing bands of hurt across both cheeks and down to her stocking tops. She yelps, groans and stamps her feet, nevertheless thrusting out her buttocks to meet each of the worn leather's cruel kisses. A further dozen overlapping strokes sear across her fiery red behind until Emily thinks she can't possibly endure further chastisement."Hurts," she whimpers, tears in her eyes, although the perfect pain only serves to stoke a fire of arousal down below. Aware of her limits Michael runs his hands along the insides of Emily's legs and pulls her knees apart, leaving her open and exposed. His tongue repeatedly explores the length of her labia, right up to the nub of her clit, building each caress into a rhythmic repetition. Emily feels an orgasm inexorably approaching, her breathing becomes fast and uneven."Fuck you're tight," he observes crudely, sliding a finger into Emily's inviting pink cunny and then positioning his erection at her slick entrance."Stop teasing and do it hard!" she screams, last vestiges of dignity and reserve surrendered. Lewdly Emily pushes back her hips, anxious to have him inside her. Equally caught up in the intensity of the moment, Michael fills the lusty librarian with the cock she craves. All inhibitions abandoned, Emily feels the rhythm of his thrusts increasing, her pussy spasms and takes them both to an inevitable sexual crescendo. They lay silent for a moment before Michael chivalrously passes Emily a large linen handkerchief to mop the come leaking onto her nylon-clad thighs."I think my poor bottom has suffered quite enough for one day," she whispers sensually, "how about you take me home to your place and fuck me again, slowly and gently?""How about we take one of the books from the special collection to provide us with inspiration?" he replies."Oh, I think I've already done quite enough research," Emily responds with a giggle."Then let's grab a bottle of wine and see if we can't put theory into practice," agrees Michael.Cut to a year later, doctorate earned; Emily has been promoted to take charge of the main university library. There's a new young woman librarian at the Institute, still on probation and requiring guidance. Emily considers herself a firm but fair manager and has kindly offered an after-hours tutorial on the special collection. A recently successful MA student, now a research fellow, somewhat older and vastly experienced, may join them;By Select Redux for LiteroticaCleverness is SexyWinning a quiz transformed Alice from swot to hot.By Select ReduxAn exceptionally brainy young woman, Alice has pursued her academic interests to the exclusion of almost everything else in life. There will, she reasons, on the verge of her 23rd birthday, the M A she's strived so hard to attain nearl

Two stories of scholarly lasses with healthy libidos.Based on the posts by Select Redux. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Stimulating ReadingSexual adventures amid the bookshelves.Unlocking the big oak doors, Emily glances up at the Spring sun filtering through the stained-glass windows of the 'Institute'. Originally endowed by a Victorian benefactor, now part of a modern university, this old building goes unnoticed by most people passing by on this bright 1993 morning.The research library within opens just three days a week with Emily, its part-time librarian, fitting the job around her PhD studies. Some colleagues consider it a fusty backwater; Emily rather enjoys the church-like surroundings, lofty ceilings and marble floors, and calm, quiet ambience.Starting the day as usual at 8.45am, Emily turns on the lights, picks up the post and then sits at the front desk waiting for students to arrive. The job isn't the most exacting; mainly helping undergraduates locate obscure books, its perk being plenty of time to write her thesis and, blush-making to admit, peruse the rather splendid erotica section. Something that's become a bit of a habit, leaving her distracted and almost perpetually aroused.This 'special collection' is kept locked; its key is supposedly secure in a safe; in fact on a chain around Emily's neck. Currently 'in between boyfriends' (no, not like that!) in truth modern men, mostly boys inhabiting adult bodies in her opinion, don't do it for Emily. Call her traditional, she wants someone old-fashioned.Emily's romantic, bookish outlook on life sometimes feels unsuited to modern times and is exemplified by today's attire: cardigan, blouse, and a string of pearls, the epitome of respectability; a typical librarian. A knee-length skirt, sensible shoes, minimal makeup and glasses habitually perched upon her head complete the academic look. However, underneath one (who? she reflects glumly) might be surprised to find some almost sinfully brief lingerie adorning her trim figure. Perhaps not so conservative;Later that afternoon, Emily looks at her watch, half an hour until closing, not likely to see anyone else today she thinks. Wrongly, because striding confidently through the rotating door and purposefully approaching her desk is a new customer. In contrast to the usual scruffy students (although arguably the lecturers are worse) he's smartly dressed. Wearing a tie in fact; Emily likes a chap in a suit and his fits very well. This tall man with silvery grey hair favors her with a confident smile and Emily melts inside, lust at first sight.Michael, they are quickly on first name terms, is a postgrad mature student working on the final dissertation of an English literature MA. He's taken a couple of weeks' leave from an unspecified (Emily suspects high-powered and well-remunerated) job to complete it. Meaning, she sends a silent prayer of thanks to whichever celestial deity might be responsible, he'll be making frequent trips to the library. Visits she soon begins to eagerly anticipate, feeling disproportionately disappointed on days when this charming, personable and undoubtedly assertive man doesn't appear. Get a grip girl, chides her inner voice, whatever your fantasies this is a purely professional relationship."What did you do before studying," she enquires one morning."Came from money, followed the family tradition into the City and made some more," he shrugs. "Clichéd thing for a privileged person to say but it didn't make me happy.""What does?""Good writing, which explains why I'm here in literary mode, how about you?""A very bright kid from a feckless, under-achieving family; got a scholarship, got out of my dead-end town and got a higher education. Not having money means I have to take a series of dull jobs to pay my way." There's no need to make her point any more strongly, Michael gets the implication."I detect a steely determination," he responds without rancor."Academically, yes," she agrees, "in order to remain with my beloved books, but unfashionable though it is I'd happily be rescued by a knight in shining armor. Will you be my knight?" Christ, she thinks, where did that come from? Silly mare you've blown it now."If you'll be my damsel in distress I'd be delighted," Michael answers lightly, but a die has been cast."What are you working on today?" he enquires conversationally when next visiting."These books were recently acquired for the special collections section. I'm trying to catalogue them," she explains, outwardly serene, but heart beating fast."Ah the erotica," Michael raises a knowing eyebrow, "better leave you to it then." He turns to a nearby table with a couple of hefty tomes and commences making notes while covertly observing Emily, absently twirling a lock of hair with one hand, the other no longer on the table but underneath. Much later, abruptly jolted from a pleasurable reverie by his shadow, Emily becomes abruptly aware of Michael's looming presence."You're spending a lot of time on books from that particular genre," he says, it isn't a question."Well; " she stammers."Perhaps that's why you've twice left the University's precious erotica shelves unlocked lately?"Her eyes widen in shock. "How did you know?" It's true, no point in denying the fact."I notice things. An accident I'm sure, but rather careless, some might even say naughty. Are you naughty Emily?" Silence, the cat has got her tongue. "Do you deserve to be punished? Might that be a better solution than the matter being brought to the attention of the Vice-Chancellor?" Michael presses home his advantage. "Those rare editions are extremely valuable. Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson, bought to book one might say." Emily gets the joke, but it's no laughing matter."Punished; lesson?" she stammers, "what do you mean?""I think you know to what I'm referring, you've read enough about spanking, no doubt wondered what it might be like. I don't believe you're as innocent as you pretend Emily, I saw you slide a hand under your skirt just then. Most unprofessional, you deserve to have your bottom smacked.""Oh; " Overwhelmed by his quiet certainty that she'll obey, Ellie discovers in herself a complimentary willingness to defer; feels her pussy throbbing with desire at every word Michael utters. This is ridiculous, thinks her rational brain, I'm an independent woman, he's no right to demand my obedience. But you know you want to, responds her libidinous subconscious, you've so often dreamt of such a scenario, and how you'd willingly submit;She nods anxiously towards the door. With an unreadable expression, Michael walks purposefully towards the entrance, locks it and returns."Bad girls require discipline," he whispers in her ear."They do, sir," she meekly agrees."Come here." Emily stands next to him, hands behind her back."Turn around and lean forward against the desk."Deferentially, eyes downcast, Emily complies; wrapping his left arm around her slender waist Michael slowly, and deliberately raises her skirt. Emily wishes her boobs were just a little bigger; wishes her arse was just a little smaller but knows her lovely legs are just right. Now so does he.A grunt of male disapproval, "I don't like tights," he tugs her pantyhose down revealing flawless bottom cheeks, "next time I expect you to wear stockings." Next time, who said anything about next time? Despite her mounting panic, Emily has an epiphany of understanding; Michael's coercion is more implied than actual, less of a threat by him as a need within her. He runs his hands appreciatively over her pristine, unmarked bottom then tugs those unexpectedly racy, almost transparent black panties up hard into Emily's damp divide, the silken scrap disappearing between puffy pussy lips, chafing her swollen clit."Turns you on doesn't it" he growls, holding her tightly."Yes, but I'm scared," she whispers and it's true, the physical proximity and her helplessness in the hands of an alpha male are more exciting than anything Emily has ever before encountered.Emily tenses, holding her breath, awaiting the inevitable; yet the initial smack still catches her by surprise. At first, it's mainly about the ringing percussive sound, a numbing shock. Prudently Michael allows a pause, he can tell it's her first time. Gradually her skin pinkens and a sharp stinging sensation suffuses Emily's posterior."Oh," she looks at him wide-eyed, "oh yes," amazed by her compliance with the punitive intentions of a man she scarcely knows. A second spank, slightly harder this time."Feeling it now aren't you," Michael mutters, "rather different from in the stories you're so keen on?" True, the reality of what before was only fevered fiction is raw and immediate." I'll stop if you ask me to," he adds."Surely not when I've been so wicked," Emily replies huskily. The scene is set, and his hard palm strikes her bottom repeatedly as Michael methodically and unhurriedly continues, Emily's body responding animatedly to the burning sensation gradually suffusing her derriere."Keep still," he commands as she squirms in a futile attempt to dissipate the smart.Eventually, Emily has no idea how long, five minutes, or an eternity, Michael ceases her chastisement. Both are breathing heavily now, albeit for different reasons. He slides a hand up her inner thigh and under her knickers."Good girl," Michael whispers, pushing an exploratory digit into Emily's sopping sex. She shuts her eyes and moves against his fingers, Emily is needy, alas, her evident excitement is unrequited. Taking her by the shoulders, Michael turns the shaken young woman to face the wall."Make yourself respectable," he instructs in a tone countenancing no dissent, "don't move until I've left, no rubbing your bottom, or anywhere else. I'll let myself out," he kisses the top of her head, "and be back soon to do one final bit piece of research, don't miss me too much."And then he's gone; taken Emily to the edge and abandoned her unsatisfied. Which, thinks Emily, bottom glowing fiercely, is truly sadistic. Simmering with sexual awakening, she's no intention of being denied. Walking stiffly towards her chair Emily sits, wincing as her tender buttocks contact with the seat. Legs spread and eyes closed she pushes a hand down the front of her panties and addresses her pent-up frustration with flying fingers, and soon has a shattering orgasm.On Monday morning, after a weekend mentally replaying this momentous encounter, and multiple flouting of Michael's embargo on masturbation, Emily walks into work full of hope for what the new week may bring. Inwardly more confident, her outward appearance has also altered. She's taken more care with makeup, mascara and her favorite cherry red lipstick. Does her best not to tug down her hem at every step. Emily hasn't previously worn such a short skirt and worries people may notice she's wearing stockings. Once at work, it's business as usual, albeit with some appreciative glances from borrowers, being desired is an unfamiliar but welcome ego boost. Emboldened, Emily experiments with undoing the second button of her blouse.She can't conceal her unhappiness when Michael fails to arrive and becomes increasingly despondent when he doesn't turn up on Tuesday and Wednesday either. By Thursday she's almost lost hope. Turning to the erotica collection for comfort a photograph falls from between the pages of a book on 'Le Vice Anglaise'. Emily looks aghast, Michael! But it can't be, the date scribbled on the back is 1936, does her dom have a doppelganger? All too much of a conundrum to deal with in her overwrought state, Emily locks up early and heads disconsolately home.On Friday she settles onto her stool and re-opens the same book. Was Michael ever really here, she wonders? Could this have been some sort of hallucination, an epic instance of self-delusion? Of course not, get real, examine the facts, she inwardly chides. Consider the evidence of two days of sitting gingerly, the finger marks on your sore buttocks visible in the mirror. She was spanked alright, the pertinent question being whether she will see Michael again, let alone reach the sexual conclusion so ardently desired. Not being clairvoyant, Emily doesn't have a clue about either outcome, for now, she tells herself sternly, you'd better get on with some work. Mentally listing the day's mundane tasks Emily doesn't notice a familiar figure quietly enter the building until he's immediately adjacent. Caught unawares her incipient shout of shock is stifled by his hand."I'll remove it from your mouth," his voice whispers, "if you promise not to scream, understood?" Emily remains frozen, struggling to get to grips with her predicament, then nods assent."Where did you appear from?" she enquires in a small voice."Not important right now," he shushes."Your picture; " She points at the faded sepia print on the table."My father," he laughs, "chip off the old block, aren't I? Long gone, of course, he put up the money to establish the erotica collection you've so much enjoyed." Helping the shaken young woman to her feet he moves Emily to face a bookcase."Just relax," he says calmly, trailing a hand teasingly up and down the back of her thighs."Relax," she tenses at the suggestion, "when I don't know what you intend to do.""I think you can hazard a pretty accurate prediction," he teases."I'm quite sure you're planning to punish me again," says Emily shivering with anticipation at the thought, "what might occur afterwards is what's preoccupying me.""What do you hope happens?" he enquires, lips brushing the nape of her neck."I think you can make a very good guess," Emily replies cheekily.Right now, she can't think of anything she wouldn't let him do, Emily has read many salacious books and has a vivid imagination."I'm enjoying your new look," says Michael appreciatively, "let's explore beneath; " He unbuttons her blouse to the waist, frees her boobs and rolls each erect nipple in turn between finger and thumb. In response, Emily kisses him hard on the mouth, her acquiescence clearly in no doubt. His other hand slips between her thighs and encounters wetness between them. Emily moans at this touch, yearning to be penetrated by the hard cock she can feel bulging through his trousers and pressing against her thigh."You'll endure a harsher correction this time," he murmurs, bending Emily across the desk while removing his belt."The door", she gestures urgently.He shrugs off her concern. "We'll just have to take the chance; I find a little jeopardy adds a frisson of excitement." Wrestling up the short, tight skirt exposes the soft curves of Emily's hips and beautiful bottom; Michael monetarily enjoys the sight, and then pulls her knickers down and off."Someone wants to be fucked pretty badly," he observes, a hint of amusement in his voice as he glimpses her damp, pouting slit. With no warning he straps Emily, hard and fast, leaving blazing bands of hurt across both cheeks and down to her stocking tops. She yelps, groans and stamps her feet, nevertheless thrusting out her buttocks to meet each of the worn leather's cruel kisses. A further dozen overlapping strokes sear across her fiery red behind until Emily thinks she can't possibly endure further chastisement."Hurts," she whimpers, tears in her eyes, although the perfect pain only serves to stoke a fire of arousal down below. Aware of her limits Michael runs his hands along the insides of Emily's legs and pulls her knees apart, leaving her open and exposed. His tongue repeatedly explores the length of her labia, right up to the nub of her clit, building each caress into a rhythmic repetition. Emily feels an orgasm inexorably approaching, her breathing becomes fast and uneven."Fuck you're tight," he observes crudely, sliding a finger into Emily's inviting pink cunny and then positioning his erection at her slick entrance."Stop teasing and do it hard!" she screams, last vestiges of dignity and reserve surrendered. Lewdly Emily pushes back her hips, anxious to have him inside her. Equally caught up in the intensity of the moment, Michael fills the lusty librarian with the cock she craves. All inhibitions abandoned, Emily feels the rhythm of his thrusts increasing, her pussy spasms and takes them both to an inevitable sexual crescendo. They lay silent for a moment before Michael chivalrously passes Emily a large linen handkerchief to mop the come leaking onto her nylon-clad thighs."I think my poor bottom has suffered quite enough for one day," she whispers sensually, "how about you take me home to your place and fuck me again, slowly and gently?""How about we take one of the books from the special collection to provide us with inspiration?" he replies."Oh, I think I've already done quite enough research," Emily responds with a giggle."Then let's grab a bottle of wine and see if we can't put theory into practice," agrees Michael.Cut to a year later, doctorate earned; Emily has been promoted to take charge of the main university library. There's a new young woman librarian at the Institute, still on probation and requiring guidance. Emily considers herself a firm but fair manager and has kindly offered an after-hours tutorial on the special collection. A recently successful MA student, now a research fellow, somewhat older and vastly experienced, may join them;By Select Redux for LiteroticaCleverness is SexyWinning a quiz transformed Alice from swot to hot.By Select ReduxAn exceptionally brainy young woman, Alice has pursued her academic interests to the exclusion of almost everything else in life. There will, she reasons, on the verge of her 23rd birthday, the M A she's strived so hard to attain nearl

‘Tis the season for giving. By TheSleepingKing. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. 7:16 am The door from the bathroom swung open, spilling steam into the dim blue rays of light sneaking in through the blinds. Wrapped in a towel, Shauna strode into her dorm room, feet sinking into the carpet as she padded across the floor. Pausing at the window she pulled the cord to raise the blinds, bathing the room in the soft glow of an overcast Michigan dawn. A dusting of snow covered the glazing. About an inch drifted on the ledge outside. Beyond and several stories down a lone figure rounded onto the back straight of the athletic track. Shauna leaned in, her breath fogging the glass. She poked two dots and underlined them with a curve. Smiled at the new face smiling back at her. It was a beautiful Christmas Eve morning.She unhooked the towel and tossed it over the back of the chair parked under the desk. The cool air plucked at her nipples and sapped the heat from her skin. She skimmed her hands around the bulge of her breasts, across her taut tummy and the arc of her ass. Appraising her profile in the mirror she nodded. Spin class and yoga really paid off this year. From the top drawer of the dresser, she picked out white lace panties and drew them up over toned, creamy thighs. She paired them with red and white argyle knee socks and a soft strapless bra. Sifting through the hangers in the closet she settled on a flirty red A-line dress with wide shoulder straps and a length about mid-thigh. Not practical for the weather. But perfect for the mission. 7:32 am She capped the outfit with a fuzzy Santa hat and white-soled black Keds before returning to the mirror. She turned side to side and took a twirl, the dress flaring out before settling over her legs. Certainly the sexiest elf she'd ever seen. She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. She would need to get going soon to make her deliveries. The schedule was tight. On any other Christmas Eve she'd still be asleep; tucked in tight and dead to the world in a quiet corner of her parents' six-bedroom McMansion in Traverse City. She'd get up around 10:00, meet her brother for lunch, then spend the afternoon serving food at a shelter across town before heading home for the traditional Christmas Eve dinner with her family. This year, dinner had been moved up to lunch – something about grandma and grandpa's flights. So volunteering was out. She was fine with it at first. But as the season ramped up and the holiday spirit infected her, she felt the need to replace it with something. Some way to give back. To spread a little cheer to those less fortunate this time of year. As 3rd floor RA for the co-ed dorm, she was privy to certain information. The administration realized not every student could make it home for the holidays. So the school remained open in a limited capacity, depending on the holiday and how many students remained behind. This year on her floor there were three. And since they were stuck there maybe she could celebrate with them before she left. She snatched a small white drawstring bag off her bed and slung it over her shoulder, the contents momentarily rustling about inside. Taking her key card from the dresser she slipped it into her bra and reached for the door. She paused, re-thinking, the lever rocking under her palm. Quickly, she picked it out and tucked it neatly into the back of a sock instead, before ducking out into the hall. 7:40 am Shauna stopped at Room 303. She gave her usual rata-tat-tat RA knock and shrugged the bag off her shoulder, holding the strap in the crook of her elbow. The corridor was weirdly quiet. No music or raucous conversation bleeding through the walls. She couldn't imagine having to spend the next week here under these conditions. A latch clicked in front of her, and the door creaked open. “Hey Ty,” she chirped, “Merry Christmas!” Ty seemed surprised by the greeting, then confused by her presence. He smiled. “Um…thanks. Merry Christmas to you too.” His eyes dipped – first to her cleavage, then to her legs – before rebounding to hers. He now seemed nervous too. “Can I come in for a minute?” “Uh…yeah, sure.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats he stepped aside. She glided past, her blonde curls swishing about her shoulders. Ty gently shut the door behind her. Shauna glanced around the suite. Open textbooks were strewn across the couch. Graph paper filled with notes littered the desk. The three computer monitors that typically flickered video games, now hosted row upon row of complex equations she didn't understand. Ambient techno pulsed softly through a pair of small speakers, and the room smelled faintly of Axe body spray. “I'm sorry,” he offered, “I wasn't expecting anyone today.” He was a freshman, so she'd only known him one semester. But he seemed like a good kid. Sure, he was disheveled, nerdy, and a little immature. But he was charming and considerate, and very bright – dedicated to keeping his name on the Dean's List. Didn't hurt that he was cute either. “That's okay,” she replied. “Santa knows it sucks having to be here over the holidays, so he got you a present.” She lowered the bag and reached inside, pulling out a deep green envelope with a silver star sticker sealing it shut. “Nothing big, just something to give you a break from…” she waved her arm toward the paper and monitors, “…this.” Cautiously he took the envelope, turning it over to find his name written neatly on the front. “Oh,” he said, “…thanks. That's…really nice.” A moment of awkward silence followed. “Go ahead,” Shauna prompted, “open it.” Ty shrugged. He peeled up the star and lifted the flap, extricating a Christmas card with a red-nosed Rudolph gracing the cover. He smiled as he opened it, eyes tracking back and forth across the page. Wedged in the crease was a white 3 by 5 note card. Flipping it right-side-up he discovered a sketch in black marker in the center. He froze, the smile fading, jaw dropped. He looked up at Shauna. Then back at the card. “Wait…,” he stammered, “is this…. Are you…. Is this for real?” Shauna raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Santa likes to make sure no one on the nice list gets left out.” Her gaze fell to his groin, dialing in on the growing bulge. There was the response she was hoping for. She hung the bag over the doorknob. Closing the distance between them she reached out and pinched the card in her fingers. “Why don't you get comfortable.” She set it on a textbook and slouched against the desk, waiting. Ty looked left, then right, unsure of what to do. Finally, he stepped back and eased himself down to the edge of his bed. Shauna placed her hands on his thighs, pushing them apart before kneeling between them. The tented fleece covering his crotch pointed directly at her. She smiled. Looked up. “You've done this before, right?” He paused a moment, then nodded vigorously. She wasn't convinced. But it didn't really matter. It might even help keep her on schedule. She gave him a shove, forcing him to recline and brace with his arms. Grabbing his sweats by the pockets she jerked at them until they pooled around his ankles. His cock sprang out, slapping his abdomen before swaying back to vertical. She wrapped it in her fingers, the whole head protruding from her fist. He puffed and shivered under her touch. Leaning forward she lowered her head. His body tensed. She raised her eyes to find his narrowed, his mouth rounded and dry. “Relax,” she cooed, “just enjoy it,” and slipped his dick between her lips. A breath rattled his chest. She felt the blanket cinch beneath them as his fingers gripped and pulled. First she teased the glans, undulating her tongue beneath, then around and over the top. His hips shot up to meet her mouth. She lightened her hold, welcoming him in deeper. She bobbed her head to the rhythm of the music – down on one and three, up on two and four. His cock was rock hard, curving into the roof of her mouth with each descent. He sighed, and groaned, and grunted; the tone and timbre of each growing more urgent with each passing minute. Shauna's free hand dove under her dress and between her legs, fingers plucking aside the damp lace and strumming the slick, smooth lips of her pussy. Her partners were usually more experienced. More restrained. It had been some time since one had responded with such virginal enthusiasm. And she found it to be quite the turn-on. She held her neck as steady as she could, relinquishing control of tempo and depth. Ty trembled, huffing air through gritted teeth. Shauna peeked to find his eyes closed, neck strained, deep blue veins pulsing through. Sensing the moment, her fingers left the base of his dick and curled around his balls. She tightened her lips to a gentle squeeze. Ty stalled. A guttural growl forced its way into the air. His eyes popped open wide and fixed on Shauna's. With a batting of lashes, she pushed down on his throbbing cock until the tip of her nose bumped his abdomen. A heartbeat later, torrents of warm, viscid cum spewed into her mouth. The jets struck the back of her palate, sloshing over her tonsils and sliding down her throat. She swallowed hard but couldn't keep up. Each burst seemed richer than the last, filling her cheeks and leaking from the corners of her mouth. Her own juices deluged her fingers in response; the squelching filling the gaps between Ty's staggered gasps. A dozen spurts later his orgasm subsided. Shauna held his cock a little longer, savoring its texture on her lips and the mild, distinct flavor of his seed. She moved with him as his hips sagged back to the mattress, sinking him deeper to the root of his erection. After one final gulp she sucked in her cheeks and lifted her head, teasing the remaining fluids from the head of his dick. He gawked at her, speechless. She pulled her fingers from her pussy and held them up in front of her. They gleamed in the light, strands of grool clinging to her knuckles as she separated them. Fixing on him she sucked each finger into her mouth, swabbing them clean before licking her lips. Ty's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed flat on the bed. Shauna giggled. Pushing off she rocked to her feet. She looked at him spread over the rumpled blanket, his penis twitching on his tummy. She nodded, pleased with herself. Sweeping her hair out of her face she took the gift sack from the doorknob and the note card from the desk, slipping the latter into the former. “Did you enjoy your present?” she asked, slinging the bag over her shoulder. Ty groaned a sigh, his satisfaction evident. A smile lit Shauna's lips. “Good,” she said, “that's great.” She made her way back to the door. “You know, Santa can't offer gifts like this to everyone, so…let's keep this between us, okay?” An arm raised and a hand approximated a wave before tumbling limp to the mattress. She took it as a yes. Catching her reflection in the window she adjusted her hat. “Merry Christmas Ty,” she said softly, before disappearing into the corridor. 8:05 am Snowflakes drifted past the tall narrow windows of the student lounge separating the north and south wings of the third floor. Curled up at the far end of the couch opposite the ping pong table, Shauna twisted the cap off a bottle of diet soda and took a sip. Pulling her phone from the bag she checked the time. Javon would arrive in fifteen minutes. Plenty of time to finish her drink. She stretched out across the cushions and downed another swig. This one excited her more than the others. She and Javon were casually acquainted. Though both juniors they rarely shared classes. But they saw each other often around campus; playing pool in the lounge, grabbing coffee at Starks, or stocking up on dollar tacos Tuesday nights at Frankie's. And always, always flirting. Nothing ever came of it, unfortunately. He was putting himself through school and the scholarships just weren't enough. So he needed to work a lot. Every chance he got he'd bank some overtime or pick up an extra shift. That didn't leave much time for anything else. But today was Christmas Eve. The print shop would be closed tomorrow, so he couldn't go in tonight. Which she hoped would free up just enough time for what she had in store. A door closed in the distance, followed by footsteps in the hallway behind her. She checked her phone. He was early. She chugged another mouthful of soda, then quietly stuffed everything into the bag. The footsteps halted. A latch turned and a door opened, then closed. She counted to thirty, then slid off the couch and left the lounge, rounding the corner toward 317. 8:08 am Shauna waited, impatiently, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Still no response. She knocked again, harder this time. Shuffling noises, then heavy footfalls. The door swung open on a scowling Javon, his uniform shirt crumpled in his fist, muscles chiseled and taut. She smiled up at him, head cocked to the side. He looked her over, his mood softening as he recognized who she was. “Hey,” he said, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing here?” She shrugged, ignoring the twinge in her pussy. “Waiting to see you. Can I come in?” Javon retreated inside, tossing his shirt on the bed and perching on the edge of his dresser. Shauna followed, taking quick stock of the room. Clean and sparse. Suitable for someone who spent very little time there. She turned her attention to him. Tall and dark, with bold, crisp features. His hands splotched with cyan and yellow ink from the press. “Is um…is this a bad time?” “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I was just going to take a shower, then go down for a nap.” He waved a hand in her direction. “Soooo, who are you supposed to be?” “I'm a Christmas elf,” she replied. “Santa's Helper.” Javon's eyes widened. “Oh. You're a lot taller than I would have expected of an elf.” “Well, we're not all size challenged artisans baking cookies in the off-season you know. Some of us are taller, and educated, and…really cute.” He laughed, his pecs jumping. “That's fair. Please forgive my ignorance of the elf community. I don't know any – aside from you.” She shrugged the bag off her shoulder and reached inside, crossing the carpet between them. “Listen, she began, “Santa knows how hard you work to be here, and how much that keeps you from having a life. So, he got you a little gift. It won't make up for having to be here over the holidays, but it might help take the edge off?” She pulled out a red envelope and handed it to him. He stared at it, his face cycling through several emotions, settling on confused. “Thanks,” he said, “that's…really sweet. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything.” Shauna smiled to herself, setting the bag on the floor. “Open it.” She wandered past him to the window. Raising the blinds she took a quick peek outside before turning and sliding up onto his desk, swinging her feet freely beneath. Javon zipped a finger under the flap and extracted the card; a red-nosed Rudolph printed on the cover. As he shook it open a white note card fluttered out. He snatched it out of the air and held it up. A sketch in black marker graced the white space. Shauna watched over his shoulder as he stared at the figures suggested by the swooping lines. He fanned the card, then turned and eased off his seat. He walked over to her, holding it up, the image upside down. His mouth curled in one corner. “This is uhhh…you and me?” She squinted at the picture. “Well…right-side up and all, but…sure.” She took it from him and snapped it on the desk. Her arms extended, fingers wedging themselves between the waist of his jeans and the warm, smooth skin of his abdomen. She reeled him in between her legs, squeezing them in hers. “Come on,” she said, thumbs separating the button and peeling the zipper. “Take a break.” Javon reached out, tracing the curl of her ear with his finger. Tilting his head, he leaned in for a kiss. Shauna planted a hand in the center of his chest, stopping his lips a hair's breadth from hers. His heartbeat pulsed through her arm and gut, thumping through her clit like a kick drum. She tapped a finger on the card beside her. He glanced down. Then back at her. She smiled. Pushed him away. She hopped off the desk, lowering her eyes to the height of his fly. Waiting. Javon nodded. In a single swoop he shoved his jeans to the floor and stepped out. The outline of his cock bulged the breathable fabric of his boxer briefs, curving down his right leg. A squeak left Shauna's throat. She reached inside and fished it out, needing both hands to hoist the shaft. It hardened in her grip, rising, reaching for its target. She pulled a few long strokes, its heat warming her hands. She had imagined what he might be hiding. But none of those dreams fell short of reality. Reluctantly she let go. Eyes fixed on her prize she slowly turned round, bending over the desk. She shuffled her feet a shoulder's width apart and casually wiggled her ass. Javon stepped up, his demeanor all business. Stroking his meat with one hand he grabbed the hem of her dress in the other and flipped it up over her butt. Her firm white cheeks glowed in the morning light. He took the waistband of her panties and rolled them down her hips and thighs, abandoning them around her calves and exposing her labia to the chill of the room. She was sopping wet. He swiped his penis along her slit, greasing it with her cream. Current bolted up her spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She threw her ass toward him, anxious to be filled. But he took his time, lubing every inch to a slippery shine. Finally satisfied, he set a palm in the small of her back and wedged the tip of his cock between her folds. Slow and steady, he sank into her vagina. Shauna gasped, eyes round. Her knees buckled, fingertips clawing at the laminate as her canal expanded to accommodate the intruder. It was thicker than any dick or dildo she remembered. And she was suddenly grateful he'd been so careful to slicken up. He took shallow, steady thrusts, loosening her vice a touch each time. Short, silent breaths gave way to grunts and groans. She tried to restrain herself in case anyone still left was walking the halls. But it was a losing battle. The pressure coiling inside would soon be too much to contain. Javon curled over her. Reaching into her dress he freed her breasts from their padded sling and cupped one in each hand. He pinched her nipples between strong fingers, yoking her tits to her clit with little bolts of lightning. The heat of the moment telegraphed through her skin, flushing her ears, cheeks, and chest a robust, rosy pink. He pushed on, diving deeper into her velvet pouch. Her arms burning, Shauna lowered her elbows and forehead to the desk. Her hair shrouded her periphery, leaving the only clear view that of her lover's balls swaying back and forth between her thighs. A delightful fog rolled over her brain, occluding everything outside the aura of their bodies. “Do you want it all,” Javon whispered, his voice piercing the veil. Shauna turned her head, mouth agape. “That's not all of it?” A baritone chuckle rumbled from his chest. He straightened up, releasing her boobs for a firm hold of her waist. He eased down the throttle, slowing his rhythm. Measuring the distance. She caught his eyes for a moment, glimpsing the same lechery she felt coursing through her veins. He smiled at her. Then hilted his cock in her pussy. “Uhhh gawd.” A wave of pleasure rippled out from her core, breaking over her entire body. She couldn't gauge how big he was, but he was now twice as deep as he had been seconds ago. He gave her a moment and a few shallow dips before ramping up the pace; drawing his dick out to the barb each time before plunging back in. Shauna's ass rippled, limbs shuddering under each impact. She stretched her arms to brace herself. But her hands squeaked against the desk each time he crashed into her, jolting her forward. She began to lose control. Her pelvic muscles clenched; labia stretching around his shaft. He growled his approval. A stern smack stung her left buttock, forcing a squeal from her larynx and a shock to her sex. Another followed, echoing off the walls into her ears. Her strength failed, drooping her back and turning her legs to jelly. Javon grabbed hold of one and lifted it, bending the knee and setting it securely on the desktop. He continued to hammer away. The cords binding her orgasm began to fray. She imagined his view from behind; her sodden pink snatch vulgarly splayed for the massive dark rod plowing her gut. Words escaped her, leaving only screams and moans to communicate her desire. 8:42 am Shauna's head was swimming, her brain just mush. But she held on, wanting this ecstasy to last forever. Her hat flew off her head, landing silently on the windowsill. Long fingers raked through her hair. They gathered her curls into his fist and pulled. Her head snapped back, jaw dropped, eyelids fluttering. The cords snapped and the coil exploded. She bore down on his dick, silent and stiff, her body racked with orgasm. Her toes dug into the carpet, her raised foot flopping about over the edge of the desk. She slapped the top with her hands, translating her contractions into a frantic rhythm beat out for Javon to hear. Her juices flowed freely, seeping out past his cock and dribbling down her thighs. And through all this, he continued to fuck her. Shauna's orgasm continued in suspended animation, tweaking her muscles and prickling her skin. As snug as he fit there was now no friction. He glided in and out like a piston in a well-oiled machine. He pumped harder, faster, working to create resistance. But her pussy was a flooded mess and that wasn't going to change. He whispered something toward her ear. A question? She couldn't decipher the words. But it didn't matter. As long as he kept filling her, perpetuating this feeling, he could do whatever he wanted. She nodded as best she could. The pounding slowed and the hand holding her waist released. The slapping of skin ceased, and his penis slipped out of her vagina. The emptiness was deflating, like the air had been sucked from her lungs. She turned to look but he stopped her, pushing her head back down to the desk. She opened her mouth to demand he continue and that's when she felt it. The pressure on the dip of her anus. Her insides knotted up. Everything clenched, then released. Her rosebud relaxed, and Javon's cock surged up her ass. She held her breath, expecting pain. But there was none. Only an indescribable fullness she had never experienced before. Each time he retracted her stomach dropped. Each plunge threatened to split her at the seams. Orgasm ripped through her again, rattling her bones and sweating from every pore. The room closed in, swaddling her in a thick black heat. She screamed but heard nothing. Felt only his cock. His fingers curled over her shoulders and around her neck. He pushed and pulled her with new urgency, opposing the swing of his hips. He'd found the resistance he was seeking, and it drove him on toward ferocious climax. In her stupor, Shauna somehow regained control of her limbs. She twisted an arm behind her back and flailed at his. When he looked down, wanton lust blazing in his eyes, she willed words from her lips. “Cum in me,” she cried, breathless, desperate for his load. “Cum in my ass.” He glared at her, neck craned, jaw set. He shifted his weight, pinning her tits to the desk and raising her butt. He tried to hold out a bit longer. But she was too tight and he was too far gone. Nodding his head Javon closed his eyes and buried his throbbing cock balls deep, erupting hot semen deep in her bowels. He roared in release, his balls smashed against her pussy, rocking into the curve of her ass. The pressure lifted her foot from the floor, grinding her hip into the edge of the desktop. But she didn't care. His cum splattered inside her, capping her climax with a warm, gooey buzz. Her buttocks quaked with each spasm. She had his cock. All of it. In the moment, that was everything. 9:04 am Gradually the pumping slowed. The pressure on her back eased and the room drifted back into focus. She glimpsed herself in a mirror near the window; hair disheveled, bare breasts smushed beneath the cockled red fabric; a trembling leg coiled on the desk, panties dangling casually from her ankle. “You are so fuckin' hot,” said the voice in her ear. She cooed, not yet able to formulate words. He rested in her a moment longer, sharing her warmth. When they'd finally caught their breath Javon stood tall. Kneading his hands into the meat of her cheeks he pushed himself back, emerging from her ass with an obscene wet slurp. Empty, Shauna sighed, the void disappointing. Her rosebud gaped, then winked several times before shrinking back into place. Javon slumped against the wall near the window. Fumbling with the latch he cracked it open. December rushed in, swirling round their bodies and raising goosebumps on their skin. Shauna shivered, invigorated, the cold soothing her scalded sex. Watching her lover she smeared her cream over her pussy and along the crack of her ass. His organ flexed toward her, but Javon shook his head. Smiling, she wriggled off the desk. On wobbly legs she gathered the note card and the bag and set them on the edge of the bed. Rummaging around in the neck of her dress she tucked her tits back into her bra and plumped them into position. Javon sauntered over, her hat in one hand, soggy panties in the other. She took the cap and fit it over her head. “Can't put those back on,” she said of her underwear. “You keep them.” He nodded, draping them over the corner of the television. She shouldered the bag and looked up at him. “Did Santa get you what you wanted?” He laughed. She followed his eyes down to his semi-hard, polished rod. “I think he fucking crushed it,” he replied. Closing the gap between them he lowered his voice. “Tell me something though. Is this strictly a Christmas situation, or…are…special occasions not required.” Shauna shrugged, the corners of her mouth curling up. “Why don't you come by sometime and find out,” she offered. “You know where I live.” She gave his penis a playful nip and tug and backed out into the hallway. 9:13 am Shauna stood quietly outside Room 334, gently swaying to a tune in her head. Her fingertips tingled and her pussy hummed along to the beat, still riding the high of the last half-hour. A trickle of semen stained her inner thigh, the remainder of Javon's deposit still trapped inside. She smoothed the front of her dress and flipped the pom of the hat to the side. She was a few minutes behind schedule. But that shouldn't be critical here. Ready for more, she knocked on the door. There was a rustling inside. A few moments later the door opened on a beautiful raven-haired Japanese girl in a tight anime tee shirt and bright blue boyshorts. Seemingly surprised, the girl dropped the pencil she held in her left hand. “Hey Sachiko,” Shauna chirped. Sachiko ripped off her headphones and flashed a nervous smile. Shauna nodded inside. “Can I come in for a minute?” Sachiko glanced over at something Shauna couldn't see, then backed her slender frame away from the door. Shauna strode inside, the latch clicking shut behind her. Unlike her first two stops, this was a bit of a gamble. Their contact had been minimal, generally restricted to her RA duties. And her scouting report was incomplete. She knew Sachiko was a sophomore, and a graphic design major. She spent summers at home in Osaka. But she couldn't afford to fly back and forth for breaks, so she usually spent them on campus. Rumor was she was into women. Of this Shauna had no confirmation. But from their interactions in the dorm and Sachiko's shyness and fluster around particular friends she did have a feeling. It was risky. But that heightened the thrill. The room was warm and cozy, lit by a floor lamp and a cube on the nightstand. Fuzzy orange pillows adorned the loveseat below the window. Incense burned in a jade tray on the corner of the dresser and a thick down comforter covered the bed. Several sketchpads scattered across the desk, a collection of porcelain cats lining the shelf above. It was clearly the space of someone needing a touch of home. “Am I like…in trouble…or something?” Sachiko wondered. “No,” Shauna laughed, amused as much by her apparent discomfort as the absurdity of the question. “I mean, have you ever been in trouble? I just wanted to wish you Happy Holidays.” Sachiko blushed. Her face made several contortions before settling on a half nod and awkward smile. “Th…thank you,” she stammered. Shauna pinched her lips between her teeth. So far so good. “I like your kitties,” Shauna continued, drifting toward the shelf. She scanned for messages, photos, anything that might give her a clue. “My sister sends me a new one for my birthday every year,” Sachiko offered. “They're beautiful.” She spotted a sheet of paper with dark smudges sticking out of the pad on top of the pile. “What's this?” she asked, reaching for it. “What? Oh!” Sachiko leapt toward her, mortified. “It's nothing, I just – ” Before she could swipe the pad Shauna had the page, staring at a gorgeous unfinished graphite sketch of a sleeping woman. She lay on her side, head on a pillow, hands underneath. Bikini panties cloaked her nethers, an arm crossed her bare breasts. And her face. Well…. Her face was very familiar. Shauna smiled to herself. This might work after all. Sachiko slunk back as Shauna turned around. She studied the drawing a moment longer, impressed by the resemblance. Finally, she looked up at Sachiko. The rosy hue of her cheeks crept into her face and neck. Shauna noticed for the first time she wasn't wearing a bra. “Did you draw this?” Sachiko sighed, looking everywhere forward. “I um…. It…it's for a class.” “You did it from memory.” She rubbed her arms with her hands. “Yeah. It just…works that way.” “It's amazing.” Shauna returned the drawing to the desk. Sluffing off the bag she retrieved the final card. “I know you don't really celebrate Christmas,” she said, “but it can't be easy being here by yourself while everyone else is. So, I got you a gift.” The silver envelope rested in her palm while Sachiko hesitated, her name glittering in gold marker. She looked up, embarrassment clouding her eyes. Shauna smiled, extending her hand. Finally, Sachiko accepted. She zipped open the flap and removed the card. A red-nosed Rudolph blinked at her from the cover. Shauna dropped the bag on the loveseat. She clasped her hands behind her back and crossed her legs at the ankles, a flirty little swivel seizing her hips. Sachiko picked the note card from the fold and looked closely. Her fingers began to tremble. Shauna sidled up closer, tucking a lock of Sachiko's hair behind her ear. Sachiko jumped at the light touch. But her gaze remained fixed on the card. Her lips parted. No sound escaped. “If you want me to stop,” Shauna murmured, “just let me know.” She kissed Sachiko's ear lobe, rolling it between her lips before drifting to her cheek and the nape of her neck. Sachiko's tremor spread to her chest. The cards fell from her grasp. Shauna continued down, over her shoulders to the swell of her breasts. She caressed one in each palm, grazing the nipples with the soft cotton of the shirt. Sachiko tangled her fingers in Shauna's hair. They curled and flexed as Shauna descended, raising her shirt and kissing her navel. She lingered there, circling, lips skimming Sachiko's butter-smooth, unblemished skin. She smelled of cherry blossom and jasmine. Shauna filled her head with the scent, priming her for the peach she was about to unwrap. Sachiko's hushed whisper floated down from above. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.” Sinking to her haunches Shauna eyed Sachiko's sex. A small wet spot darkened the fabric between her legs. Shauna peeled the underwear down over Sachiko's ass and thighs, pooling them around her feet. Exposed to the low light was a plump, tidy pussy, closely cropped dark pubic hair gracing her mound. Shauna's lips quivered. She bowed, pressing her face between Sachiko's thighs, sopping up the heat. Sachiko moaned, easing her legs apart, welcoming Shauna's tongue between her folds. Her entire body shook, chopping her breaths between chattering teeth. Shauna probed a little deeper. Sachiko doubled over, humping Shauna's mouth. Shauna yipped with delight. She shook her head side to side, slathering Sachiko's light sweet syrup over her cheeks and chin. She dug her nails into the brunette's ass, spreading her cheeks and kneading the meat. Sachiko mauled her own breasts, stretching and twisting the characters on her shirt into impossible shapes. Buffeted by Sachiko's gyrations Shauna wobbled on the balls of her feet. It was all she could do to hold on for the ride and she found herself failing at that. Toppling to her butt she roped an arm around Sachiko's neck and pulled her ear to her dripping lips. “Sit on my face,” she hissed. Sachiko fell to her knees, straddling Shauna's chest and pinning her to the floor. On all fours she scooched forward over the blonde's shoulders until her succulent snatch hovered over her RA's gaping mouth. Shauna's tongue darted out, flicking Sachiko's swollen clit. Stifling a scream Sachiko collapsed on Shauna's kisser, squeezing her ears between her thighs and swirling her pussy over her lips. Shauna lost herself in Sachiko. Inhaling her essence. Drinking her qi. She thrilled at her lover's responses – involuntary, honest and pure. There was no pretention. Only the passion of an inexperienced girl wholly submitting to her desires. She reveled in it, lapping at Sachiko's sex from the hood of her clit to the crease of her ass. Sachiko's back arched, thrusting out her chest. Her head lolled back, eyes strafing the ceiling. She squirmed on Shauna's face, blissfully ignorant of her weight, Shauna's nose, or her need to breathe. She reached back between the Shauna's splayed legs, probing under her dress until her fingers found the blonde's honeypot and slithered inside. Strangling Sachiko's wrist in her thighs Shauna groaned into her pussy. The vibrations spurred Sachiko's building orgasm, winding her body tighter and tighter, pushing her fingers faster, deeper. The circuit closed, the feedback loop complete. Every flip of the tongue, every curl of a digit, amplified the next. Sachiko bucked and thrashed. Shauna swirled and writhed. Again and again they traded blows until suddenly Sachiko fell silent, her body rigid, muscles strained. Clutching fistfuls of Shauna's hair Sachiko spread her knees and bore down, smashing her quaking pussy into Shauna's lips and gushing slippery, viscous cum all over her face. Racked with spasms she hunched over Shauna's head, wave after crashing wave of orgasm pummeling her sex. 9:38 am When the contractions finally slowed, Shauna worked her hands up to Sachiko's buttocks and nudged her. Spent, Sachiko rolled away, settling on her back against the foot of the bed. Shauna's chest heaved, gulping the cool dry air. Her eyes re-adjusted to the light. Reaching up she brushed the hat off her head and raked her fingers through moist matted hair. Arms flopping to the floor she sighed. That went well. She rolled her head and looked at Sachiko. The junior lay knees up, feet flat on the floor, her arms draped between her legs – the odd twitch in her muscles interrupting her stillness. Shauna willed herself up and crawled over. Finding her eyes shut she pressed in close and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. Sachiko smiled. “Merry Christmas,” Shauna whispered. Sachiko nodded, radiant from her orgasm. Shauna stroked her ear. “If you want me to model for you sometime,” she added, “give me a call.” She gathered her things and prepared to leave. As she passed the mirror on the closet door she stopped to look. Her face and neck glistened, glazed with Sachiko's juices. She tossed the hat in her hand, raising it to wipe herself clean. But she didn't. She decided instead she liked the way it looked. And she'd wear it a little longer. Pursing her lips, she slipped out of Sachiko's room. Light as a feather she skipped down the hall toward her room. She slowed passing Javon's door, wondering if he was already asleep. Her phone chimed in the bag, interrupting her curiosity. Retrieving it she scanned the screen and frowned. Two texts and a missed call. All from her brother. “Hey Josh,” she answered. “Yo, where the hell have you been?” There was an urgency in his tone. “I've been calling you. I'm out front, let's go!” She frowned. “Wait, what time is it?” “Quarter to ten. I told you I'd be here at 9:30, remember?” She thought for a minute, then rolled her eyes, realizing what went wrong. “Fuck,” she spat. “I thought you meant 9:30 your time.” “So you're not ready?” “No, I packed last night. I'll be right down.” Hanging up she shook her head. How did she make that mistake? She thought she'd have an hour to shower and clean up, but now they were running late. No time for any of that. Swiping the key card from her sock she popped into her room and tossed the gift bag on the bed. Snagging her backpack and navy peacoat from the closet she dashed back out headed for the lobby. 9:52 am Shauna flung open the passenger door of the coupe and tumbled inside, stuffing the backpack between her feet as she settled in the seat. Her teeth chattered from their brief exposure to the cold. Rubbing her hands together near the warm air vent she looked over at her brother behind the wheel. He stared at her, forehead crinkled, a mix of confusion and amusement scrawled across his lips. “What,” she said, staring back. He glanced down at her bare thighs – the coat just covering her lap – then back at her scowl. “Nice touch,” he replied, pointing to the bright red pileus cap. “Thanks,” she quipped, flashing a smile. “But you know it's snowing, right?” She flipped him the bird. He shrugged. “You're going to get Uncle Leo in trouble today.” Shauna tried to stifle her laugh. “Just drive Josh.” He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. “Unlike you,” he said, “I got an early start. So I'm going to get some coffee. Did you eat already?” “Yup,” she nodded. “Several times.” Josh's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. At the next light he made a left and turned into the coffee shop drive-thru. Waiting in line behind a pick-up he turned to his sister. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look a little…weird.” Shauna checked herself in the side mirror. She could taste Ty's spunk on her tongue; feel Javon's cum in her ass and Sachiko's pussy all over her face. A shiver buzzed her clit. She reclined the seat several notches and sighed, beaming at the ceiling. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I'm just…filled with Christmas spirit.” Quietly she shoved her hands beneath her legs to keep from touching herself for the remainder of the trip. By TheSleepingKing for Literotica

‘Tis the season for giving. By TheSleepingKing. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. 7:16 am The door from the bathroom swung open, spilling steam into the dim blue rays of light sneaking in through the blinds. Wrapped in a towel, Shauna strode into her dorm room, feet sinking into the carpet as she padded across the floor. Pausing at the window she pulled the cord to raise the blinds, bathing the room in the soft glow of an overcast Michigan dawn. A dusting of snow covered the glazing. About an inch drifted on the ledge outside. Beyond and several stories down a lone figure rounded onto the back straight of the athletic track. Shauna leaned in, her breath fogging the glass. She poked two dots and underlined them with a curve. Smiled at the new face smiling back at her. It was a beautiful Christmas Eve morning.She unhooked the towel and tossed it over the back of the chair parked under the desk. The cool air plucked at her nipples and sapped the heat from her skin. She skimmed her hands around the bulge of her breasts, across her taut tummy and the arc of her ass. Appraising her profile in the mirror she nodded. Spin class and yoga really paid off this year. From the top drawer of the dresser, she picked out white lace panties and drew them up over toned, creamy thighs. She paired them with red and white argyle knee socks and a soft strapless bra. Sifting through the hangers in the closet she settled on a flirty red A-line dress with wide shoulder straps and a length about mid-thigh. Not practical for the weather. But perfect for the mission. 7:32 am She capped the outfit with a fuzzy Santa hat and white-soled black Keds before returning to the mirror. She turned side to side and took a twirl, the dress flaring out before settling over her legs. Certainly the sexiest elf she'd ever seen. She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. She would need to get going soon to make her deliveries. The schedule was tight. On any other Christmas Eve she'd still be asleep; tucked in tight and dead to the world in a quiet corner of her parents' six-bedroom McMansion in Traverse City. She'd get up around 10:00, meet her brother for lunch, then spend the afternoon serving food at a shelter across town before heading home for the traditional Christmas Eve dinner with her family. This year, dinner had been moved up to lunch – something about grandma and grandpa's flights. So volunteering was out. She was fine with it at first. But as the season ramped up and the holiday spirit infected her, she felt the need to replace it with something. Some way to give back. To spread a little cheer to those less fortunate this time of year. As 3rd floor RA for the co-ed dorm, she was privy to certain information. The administration realized not every student could make it home for the holidays. So the school remained open in a limited capacity, depending on the holiday and how many students remained behind. This year on her floor there were three. And since they were stuck there maybe she could celebrate with them before she left. She snatched a small white drawstring bag off her bed and slung it over her shoulder, the contents momentarily rustling about inside. Taking her key card from the dresser she slipped it into her bra and reached for the door. She paused, re-thinking, the lever rocking under her palm. Quickly, she picked it out and tucked it neatly into the back of a sock instead, before ducking out into the hall. 7:40 am Shauna stopped at Room 303. She gave her usual rata-tat-tat RA knock and shrugged the bag off her shoulder, holding the strap in the crook of her elbow. The corridor was weirdly quiet. No music or raucous conversation bleeding through the walls. She couldn't imagine having to spend the next week here under these conditions. A latch clicked in front of her, and the door creaked open. “Hey Ty,” she chirped, “Merry Christmas!” Ty seemed surprised by the greeting, then confused by her presence. He smiled. “Um…thanks. Merry Christmas to you too.” His eyes dipped – first to her cleavage, then to her legs – before rebounding to hers. He now seemed nervous too. “Can I come in for a minute?” “Uh…yeah, sure.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats he stepped aside. She glided past, her blonde curls swishing about her shoulders. Ty gently shut the door behind her. Shauna glanced around the suite. Open textbooks were strewn across the couch. Graph paper filled with notes littered the desk. The three computer monitors that typically flickered video games, now hosted row upon row of complex equations she didn't understand. Ambient techno pulsed softly through a pair of small speakers, and the room smelled faintly of Axe body spray. “I'm sorry,” he offered, “I wasn't expecting anyone today.” He was a freshman, so she'd only known him one semester. But he seemed like a good kid. Sure, he was disheveled, nerdy, and a little immature. But he was charming and considerate, and very bright – dedicated to keeping his name on the Dean's List. Didn't hurt that he was cute either. “That's okay,” she replied. “Santa knows it sucks having to be here over the holidays, so he got you a present.” She lowered the bag and reached inside, pulling out a deep green envelope with a silver star sticker sealing it shut. “Nothing big, just something to give you a break from…” she waved her arm toward the paper and monitors, “…this.” Cautiously he took the envelope, turning it over to find his name written neatly on the front. “Oh,” he said, “…thanks. That's…really nice.” A moment of awkward silence followed. “Go ahead,” Shauna prompted, “open it.” Ty shrugged. He peeled up the star and lifted the flap, extricating a Christmas card with a red-nosed Rudolph gracing the cover. He smiled as he opened it, eyes tracking back and forth across the page. Wedged in the crease was a white 3 by 5 note card. Flipping it right-side-up he discovered a sketch in black marker in the center. He froze, the smile fading, jaw dropped. He looked up at Shauna. Then back at the card. “Wait…,” he stammered, “is this…. Are you…. Is this for real?” Shauna raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Santa likes to make sure no one on the nice list gets left out.” Her gaze fell to his groin, dialing in on the growing bulge. There was the response she was hoping for. She hung the bag over the doorknob. Closing the distance between them she reached out and pinched the card in her fingers. “Why don't you get comfortable.” She set it on a textbook and slouched against the desk, waiting. Ty looked left, then right, unsure of what to do. Finally, he stepped back and eased himself down to the edge of his bed. Shauna placed her hands on his thighs, pushing them apart before kneeling between them. The tented fleece covering his crotch pointed directly at her. She smiled. Looked up. “You've done this before, right?” He paused a moment, then nodded vigorously. She wasn't convinced. But it didn't really matter. It might even help keep her on schedule. She gave him a shove, forcing him to recline and brace with his arms. Grabbing his sweats by the pockets she jerked at them until they pooled around his ankles. His cock sprang out, slapping his abdomen before swaying back to vertical. She wrapped it in her fingers, the whole head protruding from her fist. He puffed and shivered under her touch. Leaning forward she lowered her head. His body tensed. She raised her eyes to find his narrowed, his mouth rounded and dry. “Relax,” she cooed, “just enjoy it,” and slipped his dick between her lips. A breath rattled his chest. She felt the blanket cinch beneath them as his fingers gripped and pulled. First she teased the glans, undulating her tongue beneath, then around and over the top. His hips shot up to meet her mouth. She lightened her hold, welcoming him in deeper. She bobbed her head to the rhythm of the music – down on one and three, up on two and four. His cock was rock hard, curving into the roof of her mouth with each descent. He sighed, and groaned, and grunted; the tone and timbre of each growing more urgent with each passing minute. Shauna's free hand dove under her dress and between her legs, fingers plucking aside the damp lace and strumming the slick, smooth lips of her pussy. Her partners were usually more experienced. More restrained. It had been some time since one had responded with such virginal enthusiasm. And she found it to be quite the turn-on. She held her neck as steady as she could, relinquishing control of tempo and depth. Ty trembled, huffing air through gritted teeth. Shauna peeked to find his eyes closed, neck strained, deep blue veins pulsing through. Sensing the moment, her fingers left the base of his dick and curled around his balls. She tightened her lips to a gentle squeeze. Ty stalled. A guttural growl forced its way into the air. His eyes popped open wide and fixed on Shauna's. With a batting of lashes, she pushed down on his throbbing cock until the tip of her nose bumped his abdomen. A heartbeat later, torrents of warm, viscid cum spewed into her mouth. The jets struck the back of her palate, sloshing over her tonsils and sliding down her throat. She swallowed hard but couldn't keep up. Each burst seemed richer than the last, filling her cheeks and leaking from the corners of her mouth. Her own juices deluged her fingers in response; the squelching filling the gaps between Ty's staggered gasps. A dozen spurts later his orgasm subsided. Shauna held his cock a little longer, savoring its texture on her lips and the mild, distinct flavor of his seed. She moved with him as his hips sagged back to the mattress, sinking him deeper to the root of his erection. After one final gulp she sucked in her cheeks and lifted her head, teasing the remaining fluids from the head of his dick. He gawked at her, speechless. She pulled her fingers from her pussy and held them up in front of her. They gleamed in the light, strands of grool clinging to her knuckles as she separated them. Fixing on him she sucked each finger into her mouth, swabbing them clean before licking her lips. Ty's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed flat on the bed. Shauna giggled. Pushing off she rocked to her feet. She looked at him spread over the rumpled blanket, his penis twitching on his tummy. She nodded, pleased with herself. Sweeping her hair out of her face she took the gift sack from the doorknob and the note card from the desk, slipping the latter into the former. “Did you enjoy your present?” she asked, slinging the bag over her shoulder. Ty groaned a sigh, his satisfaction evident. A smile lit Shauna's lips. “Good,” she said, “that's great.” She made her way back to the door. “You know, Santa can't offer gifts like this to everyone, so…let's keep this between us, okay?” An arm raised and a hand approximated a wave before tumbling limp to the mattress. She took it as a yes. Catching her reflection in the window she adjusted her hat. “Merry Christmas Ty,” she said softly, before disappearing into the corridor. 8:05 am Snowflakes drifted past the tall narrow windows of the student lounge separating the north and south wings of the third floor. Curled up at the far end of the couch opposite the ping pong table, Shauna twisted the cap off a bottle of diet soda and took a sip. Pulling her phone from the bag she checked the time. Javon would arrive in fifteen minutes. Plenty of time to finish her drink. She stretched out across the cushions and downed another swig. This one excited her more than the others. She and Javon were casually acquainted. Though both juniors they rarely shared classes. But they saw each other often around campus; playing pool in the lounge, grabbing coffee at Starks, or stocking up on dollar tacos Tuesday nights at Frankie's. And always, always flirting. Nothing ever came of it, unfortunately. He was putting himself through school and the scholarships just weren't enough. So he needed to work a lot. Every chance he got he'd bank some overtime or pick up an extra shift. That didn't leave much time for anything else. But today was Christmas Eve. The print shop would be closed tomorrow, so he couldn't go in tonight. Which she hoped would free up just enough time for what she had in store. A door closed in the distance, followed by footsteps in the hallway behind her. She checked her phone. He was early. She chugged another mouthful of soda, then quietly stuffed everything into the bag. The footsteps halted. A latch turned and a door opened, then closed. She counted to thirty, then slid off the couch and left the lounge, rounding the corner toward 317. 8:08 am Shauna waited, impatiently, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Still no response. She knocked again, harder this time. Shuffling noises, then heavy footfalls. The door swung open on a scowling Javon, his uniform shirt crumpled in his fist, muscles chiseled and taut. She smiled up at him, head cocked to the side. He looked her over, his mood softening as he recognized who she was. “Hey,” he said, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing here?” She shrugged, ignoring the twinge in her pussy. “Waiting to see you. Can I come in?” Javon retreated inside, tossing his shirt on the bed and perching on the edge of his dresser. Shauna followed, taking quick stock of the room. Clean and sparse. Suitable for someone who spent very little time there. She turned her attention to him. Tall and dark, with bold, crisp features. His hands splotched with cyan and yellow ink from the press. “Is um…is this a bad time?” “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I was just going to take a shower, then go down for a nap.” He waved a hand in her direction. “Soooo, who are you supposed to be?” “I'm a Christmas elf,” she replied. “Santa's Helper.” Javon's eyes widened. “Oh. You're a lot taller than I would have expected of an elf.” “Well, we're not all size challenged artisans baking cookies in the off-season you know. Some of us are taller, and educated, and…really cute.” He laughed, his pecs jumping. “That's fair. Please forgive my ignorance of the elf community. I don't know any – aside from you.” She shrugged the bag off her shoulder and reached inside, crossing the carpet between them. “Listen, she began, “Santa knows how hard you work to be here, and how much that keeps you from having a life. So, he got you a little gift. It won't make up for having to be here over the holidays, but it might help take the edge off?” She pulled out a red envelope and handed it to him. He stared at it, his face cycling through several emotions, settling on confused. “Thanks,” he said, “that's…really sweet. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything.” Shauna smiled to herself, setting the bag on the floor. “Open it.” She wandered past him to the window. Raising the blinds she took a quick peek outside before turning and sliding up onto his desk, swinging her feet freely beneath. Javon zipped a finger under the flap and extracted the card; a red-nosed Rudolph printed on the cover. As he shook it open a white note card fluttered out. He snatched it out of the air and held it up. A sketch in black marker graced the white space. Shauna watched over his shoulder as he stared at the figures suggested by the swooping lines. He fanned the card, then turned and eased off his seat. He walked over to her, holding it up, the image upside down. His mouth curled in one corner. “This is uhhh…you and me?” She squinted at the picture. “Well…right-side up and all, but…sure.” She took it from him and snapped it on the desk. Her arms extended, fingers wedging themselves between the waist of his jeans and the warm, smooth skin of his abdomen. She reeled him in between her legs, squeezing them in hers. “Come on,” she said, thumbs separating the button and peeling the zipper. “Take a break.” Javon reached out, tracing the curl of her ear with his finger. Tilting his head, he leaned in for a kiss. Shauna planted a hand in the center of his chest, stopping his lips a hair's breadth from hers. His heartbeat pulsed through her arm and gut, thumping through her clit like a kick drum. She tapped a finger on the card beside her. He glanced down. Then back at her. She smiled. Pushed him away. She hopped off the desk, lowering her eyes to the height of his fly. Waiting. Javon nodded. In a single swoop he shoved his jeans to the floor and stepped out. The outline of his cock bulged the breathable fabric of his boxer briefs, curving down his right leg. A squeak left Shauna's throat. She reached inside and fished it out, needing both hands to hoist the shaft. It hardened in her grip, rising, reaching for its target. She pulled a few long strokes, its heat warming her hands. She had imagined what he might be hiding. But none of those dreams fell short of reality. Reluctantly she let go. Eyes fixed on her prize she slowly turned round, bending over the desk. She shuffled her feet a shoulder's width apart and casually wiggled her ass. Javon stepped up, his demeanor all business. Stroking his meat with one hand he grabbed the hem of her dress in the other and flipped it up over her butt. Her firm white cheeks glowed in the morning light. He took the waistband of her panties and rolled them down her hips and thighs, abandoning them around her calves and exposing her labia to the chill of the room. She was sopping wet. He swiped his penis along her slit, greasing it with her cream. Current bolted up her spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She threw her ass toward him, anxious to be filled. But he took his time, lubing every inch to a slippery shine. Finally satisfied, he set a palm in the small of her back and wedged the tip of his cock between her folds. Slow and steady, he sank into her vagina. Shauna gasped, eyes round. Her knees buckled, fingertips clawing at the laminate as her canal expanded to accommodate the intruder. It was thicker than any dick or dildo she remembered. And she was suddenly grateful he'd been so careful to slicken up. He took shallow, steady thrusts, loosening her vice a touch each time. Short, silent breaths gave way to grunts and groans. She tried to restrain herself in case anyone still left was walking the halls. But it was a losing battle. The pressure coiling inside would soon be too much to contain. Javon curled over her. Reaching into her dress he freed her breasts from their padded sling and cupped one in each hand. He pinched her nipples between strong fingers, yoking her tits to her clit with little bolts of lightning. The heat of the moment telegraphed through her skin, flushing her ears, cheeks, and chest a robust, rosy pink. He pushed on, diving deeper into her velvet pouch. Her arms burning, Shauna lowered her elbows and forehead to the desk. Her hair shrouded her periphery, leaving the only clear view that of her lover's balls swaying back and forth between her thighs. A delightful fog rolled over her brain, occluding everything outside the aura of their bodies. “Do you want it all,” Javon whispered, his voice piercing the veil. Shauna turned her head, mouth agape. “That's not all of it?” A baritone chuckle rumbled from his chest. He straightened up, releasing her boobs for a firm hold of her waist. He eased down the throttle, slowing his rhythm. Measuring the distance. She caught his eyes for a moment, glimpsing the same lechery she felt coursing through her veins. He smiled at her. Then hilted his cock in her pussy. “Uhhh gawd.” A wave of pleasure rippled out from her core, breaking over her entire body. She couldn't gauge how big he was, but he was now twice as deep as he had been seconds ago. He gave her a moment and a few shallow dips before ramping up the pace; drawing his dick out to the barb each time before plunging back in. Shauna's ass rippled, limbs shuddering under each impact. She stretched her arms to brace herself. But her hands squeaked against the desk each time he crashed into her, jolting her forward. She began to lose control. Her pelvic muscles clenched; labia stretching around his shaft. He growled his approval. A stern smack stung her left buttock, forcing a squeal from her larynx and a shock to her sex. Another followed, echoing off the walls into her ears. Her strength failed, drooping her back and turning her legs to jelly. Javon grabbed hold of one and lifted it, bending the knee and setting it securely on the desktop. He continued to hammer away. The cords binding her orgasm began to fray. She imagined his view from behind; her sodden pink snatch vulgarly splayed for the massive dark rod plowing her gut. Words escaped her, leaving only screams and moans to communicate her desire. 8:42 am Shauna's head was swimming, her brain just mush. But she held on, wanting this ecstasy to last forever. Her hat flew off her head, landing silently on the windowsill. Long fingers raked through her hair. They gathered her curls into his fist and pulled. Her head snapped back, jaw dropped, eyelids fluttering. The cords snapped and the coil exploded. She bore down on his dick, silent and stiff, her body racked with orgasm. Her toes dug into the carpet, her raised foot flopping about over the edge of the desk. She slapped the top with her hands, translating her contractions into a frantic rhythm beat out for Javon to hear. Her juices flowed freely, seeping out past his cock and dribbling down her thighs. And through all this, he continued to fuck her. Shauna's orgasm continued in suspended animation, tweaking her muscles and prickling her skin. As snug as he fit there was now no friction. He glided in and out like a piston in a well-oiled machine. He pumped harder, faster, working to create resistance. But her pussy was a flooded mess and that wasn't going to change. He whispered something toward her ear. A question? She couldn't decipher the words. But it didn't matter. As long as he kept filling her, perpetuating this feeling, he could do whatever he wanted. She nodded as best she could. The pounding slowed and the hand holding her waist released. The slapping of skin ceased, and his penis slipped out of her vagina. The emptiness was deflating, like the air had been sucked from her lungs. She turned to look but he stopped her, pushing her head back down to the desk. She opened her mouth to demand he continue and that's when she felt it. The pressure on the dip of her anus. Her insides knotted up. Everything clenched, then released. Her rosebud relaxed, and Javon's cock surged up her ass. She held her breath, expecting pain. But there was none. Only an indescribable fullness she had never experienced before. Each time he retracted her stomach dropped. Each plunge threatened to split her at the seams. Orgasm ripped through her again, rattling her bones and sweating from every pore. The room closed in, swaddling her in a thick black heat. She screamed but heard nothing. Felt only his cock. His fingers curled over her shoulders and around her neck. He pushed and pulled her with new urgency, opposing the swing of his hips. He'd found the resistance he was seeking, and it drove him on toward ferocious climax. In her stupor, Shauna somehow regained control of her limbs. She twisted an arm behind her back and flailed at his. When he looked down, wanton lust blazing in his eyes, she willed words from her lips. “Cum in me,” she cried, breathless, desperate for his load. “Cum in my ass.” He glared at her, neck craned, jaw set. He shifted his weight, pinning her tits to the desk and raising her butt. He tried to hold out a bit longer. But she was too tight and he was too far gone. Nodding his head Javon closed his eyes and buried his throbbing cock balls deep, erupting hot semen deep in her bowels. He roared in release, his balls smashed against her pussy, rocking into the curve of her ass. The pressure lifted her foot from the floor, grinding her hip into the edge of the desktop. But she didn't care. His cum splattered inside her, capping her climax with a warm, gooey buzz. Her buttocks quaked with each spasm. She had his cock. All of it. In the moment, that was everything. 9:04 am Gradually the pumping slowed. The pressure on her back eased and the room drifted back into focus. She glimpsed herself in a mirror near the window; hair disheveled, bare breasts smushed beneath the cockled red fabric; a trembling leg coiled on the desk, panties dangling casually from her ankle. “You are so fuckin' hot,” said the voice in her ear. She cooed, not yet able to formulate words. He rested in her a moment longer, sharing her warmth. When they'd finally caught their breath Javon stood tall. Kneading his hands into the meat of her cheeks he pushed himself back, emerging from her ass with an obscene wet slurp. Empty, Shauna sighed, the void disappointing. Her rosebud gaped, then winked several times before shrinking back into place. Javon slumped against the wall near the window. Fumbling with the latch he cracked it open. December rushed in, swirling round their bodies and raising goosebumps on their skin. Shauna shivered, invigorated, the cold soothing her scalded sex. Watching her lover she smeared her cream over her pussy and along the crack of her ass. His organ flexed toward her, but Javon shook his head. Smiling, she wriggled off the desk. On wobbly legs she gathered the note card and the bag and set them on the edge of the bed. Rummaging around in the neck of her dress she tucked her tits back into her bra and plumped them into position. Javon sauntered over, her hat in one hand, soggy panties in the other. She took the cap and fit it over her head. “Can't put those back on,” she said of her underwear. “You keep them.” He nodded, draping them over the corner of the television. She shouldered the bag and looked up at him. “Did Santa get you what you wanted?” He laughed. She followed his eyes down to his semi-hard, polished rod. “I think he fucking crushed it,” he replied. Closing the gap between them he lowered his voice. “Tell me something though. Is this strictly a Christmas situation, or…are…special occasions not required.” Shauna shrugged, the corners of her mouth curling up. “Why don't you come by sometime and find out,” she offered. “You know where I live.” She gave his penis a playful nip and tug and backed out into the hallway. 9:13 am Shauna stood quietly outside Room 334, gently swaying to a tune in her head. Her fingertips tingled and her pussy hummed along to the beat, still riding the high of the last half-hour. A trickle of semen stained her inner thigh, the remainder of Javon's deposit still trapped inside. She smoothed the front of her dress and flipped the pom of the hat to the side. She was a few minutes behind schedule. But that shouldn't be critical here. Ready for more, she knocked on the door. There was a rustling inside. A few moments later the door opened on a beautiful raven-haired Japanese girl in a tight anime tee shirt and bright blue boyshorts. Seemingly surprised, the girl dropped the pencil she held in her left hand. “Hey Sachiko,” Shauna chirped. Sachiko ripped off her headphones and flashed a nervous smile. Shauna nodded inside. “Can I come in for a minute?” Sachiko glanced over at something Shauna couldn't see, then backed her slender frame away from the door. Shauna strode inside, the latch clicking shut behind her. Unlike her first two stops, this was a bit of a gamble. Their contact had been minimal, generally restricted to her RA duties. And her scouting report was incomplete. She knew Sachiko was a sophomore, and a graphic design major. She spent summers at home in Osaka. But she couldn't afford to fly back and forth for breaks, so she usually spent them on campus. Rumor was she was into women. Of this Shauna had no confirmation. But from their interactions in the dorm and Sachiko's shyness and fluster around particular friends she did have a feeling. It was risky. But that heightened the thrill. The room was warm and cozy, lit by a floor lamp and a cube on the nightstand. Fuzzy orange pillows adorned the loveseat below the window. Incense burned in a jade tray on the corner of the dresser and a thick down comforter covered the bed. Several sketchpads scattered across the desk, a collection of porcelain cats lining the shelf above. It was clearly the space of someone needing a touch of home. “Am I like…in trouble…or something?” Sachiko wondered. “No,” Shauna laughed, amused as much by her apparent discomfort as the absurdity of the question. “I mean, have you ever been in trouble? I just wanted to wish you Happy Holidays.” Sachiko blushed. Her face made several contortions before settling on a half nod and awkward smile. “Th…thank you,” she stammered. Shauna pinched her lips between her teeth. So far so good. “I like your kitties,” Shauna continued, drifting toward the shelf. She scanned for messages, photos, anything that might give her a clue. “My sister sends me a new one for my birthday every year,” Sachiko offered. “They're beautiful.” She spotted a sheet of paper with dark smudges sticking out of the pad on top of the pile. “What's this?” she asked, reaching for it. “What? Oh!” Sachiko leapt toward her, mortified. “It's nothing, I just – ” Before she could swipe the pad Shauna had the page, staring at a gorgeous unfinished graphite sketch of a sleeping woman. She lay on her side, head on a pillow, hands underneath. Bikini panties cloaked her nethers, an arm crossed her bare breasts. And her face. Well…. Her face was very familiar. Shauna smiled to herself. This might work after all. Sachiko slunk back as Shauna turned around. She studied the drawing a moment longer, impressed by the resemblance. Finally, she looked up at Sachiko. The rosy hue of her cheeks crept into her face and neck. Shauna noticed for the first time she wasn't wearing a bra. “Did you draw this?” Sachiko sighed, looking everywhere forward. “I um…. It…it's for a class.” “You did it from memory.” She rubbed her arms with her hands. “Yeah. It just…works that way.” “It's amazing.” Shauna returned the drawing to the desk. Sluffing off the bag she retrieved the final card. “I know you don't really celebrate Christmas,” she said, “but it can't be easy being here by yourself while everyone else is. So, I got you a gift.” The silver envelope rested in her palm while Sachiko hesitated, her name glittering in gold marker. She looked up, embarrassment clouding her eyes. Shauna smiled, extending her hand. Finally, Sachiko accepted. She zipped open the flap and removed the card. A red-nosed Rudolph blinked at her from the cover. Shauna dropped the bag on the loveseat. She clasped her hands behind her back and crossed her legs at the ankles, a flirty little swivel seizing her hips. Sachiko picked the note card from the fold and looked closely. Her fingers began to tremble. Shauna sidled up closer, tucking a lock of Sachiko's hair behind her ear. Sachiko jumped at the light touch. But her gaze remained fixed on the card. Her lips parted. No sound escaped. “If you want me to stop,” Shauna murmured, “just let me know.” She kissed Sachiko's ear lobe, rolling it between her lips before drifting to her cheek and the nape of her neck. Sachiko's tremor spread to her chest. The cards fell from her grasp. Shauna continued down, over her shoulders to the swell of her breasts. She caressed one in each palm, grazing the nipples with the soft cotton of the shirt. Sachiko tangled her fingers in Shauna's hair. They curled and flexed as Shauna descended, raising her shirt and kissing her navel. She lingered there, circling, lips skimming Sachiko's butter-smooth, unblemished skin. She smelled of cherry blossom and jasmine. Shauna filled her head with the scent, priming her for the peach she was about to unwrap. Sachiko's hushed whisper floated down from above. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.” Sinking to her haunches Shauna eyed Sachiko's sex. A small wet spot darkened the fabric between her legs. Shauna peeled the underwear down over Sachiko's ass and thighs, pooling them around her feet. Exposed to the low light was a plump, tidy pussy, closely cropped dark pubic hair gracing her mound. Shauna's lips quivered. She bowed, pressing her face between Sachiko's thighs, sopping up the heat. Sachiko moaned, easing her legs apart, welcoming Shauna's tongue between her folds. Her entire body shook, chopping her breaths between chattering teeth. Shauna probed a little deeper. Sachiko doubled over, humping Shauna's mouth. Shauna yipped with delight. She shook her head side to side, slathering Sachiko's light sweet syrup over her cheeks and chin. She dug her nails into the brunette's ass, spreading her cheeks and kneading the meat. Sachiko mauled her own breasts, stretching and twisting the characters on her shirt into impossible shapes. Buffeted by Sachiko's gyrations Shauna wobbled on the balls of her feet. It was all she could do to hold on for the ride and she found herself failing at that. Toppling to her butt she roped an arm around Sachiko's neck and pulled her ear to her dripping lips. “Sit on my face,” she hissed. Sachiko fell to her knees, straddling Shauna's chest and pinning her to the floor. On all fours she scooched forward over the blonde's shoulders until her succulent snatch hovered over her RA's gaping mouth. Shauna's tongue darted out, flicking Sachiko's swollen clit. Stifling a scream Sachiko collapsed on Shauna's kisser, squeezing her ears between her thighs and swirling her pussy over her lips. Shauna lost herself in Sachiko. Inhaling her essence. Drinking her qi. She thrilled at her lover's responses – involuntary, honest and pure. There was no pretention. Only the passion of an inexperienced girl wholly submitting to her desires. She reveled in it, lapping at Sachiko's sex from the hood of her clit to the crease of her ass. Sachiko's back arched, thrusting out her chest. Her head lolled back, eyes strafing the ceiling. She squirmed on Shauna's face, blissfully ignorant of her weight, Shauna's nose, or her need to breathe. She reached back between the Shauna's splayed legs, probing under her dress until her fingers found the blonde's honeypot and slithered inside. Strangling Sachiko's wrist in her thighs Shauna groaned into her pussy. The vibrations spurred Sachiko's building orgasm, winding her body tighter and tighter, pushing her fingers faster, deeper. The circuit closed, the feedback loop complete. Every flip of the tongue, every curl of a digit, amplified the next. Sachiko bucked and thrashed. Shauna swirled and writhed. Again and again they traded blows until suddenly Sachiko fell silent, her body rigid, muscles strained. Clutching fistfuls of Shauna's hair Sachiko spread her knees and bore down, smashing her quaking pussy into Shauna's lips and gushing slippery, viscous cum all over her face. Racked with spasms she hunched over Shauna's head, wave after crashing wave of orgasm pummeling her sex. 9:38 am When the contractions finally slowed, Shauna worked her hands up to Sachiko's buttocks and nudged her. Spent, Sachiko rolled away, settling on her back against the foot of the bed. Shauna's chest heaved, gulping the cool dry air. Her eyes re-adjusted to the light. Reaching up she brushed the hat off her head and raked her fingers through moist matted hair. Arms flopping to the floor she sighed. That went well. She rolled her head and looked at Sachiko. The junior lay knees up, feet flat on the floor, her arms draped between her legs – the odd twitch in her muscles interrupting her stillness. Shauna willed herself up and crawled over. Finding her eyes shut she pressed in close and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. Sachiko smiled. “Merry Christmas,” Shauna whispered. Sachiko nodded, radiant from her orgasm. Shauna stroked her ear. “If you want me to model for you sometime,” she added, “give me a call.” She gathered her things and prepared to leave. As she passed the mirror on the closet door she stopped to look. Her face and neck glistened, glazed with Sachiko's juices. She tossed the hat in her hand, raising it to wipe herself clean. But she didn't. She decided instead she liked the way it looked. And she'd wear it a little longer. Pursing her lips, she slipped out of Sachiko's room. Light as a feather she skipped down the hall toward her room. She slowed passing Javon's door, wondering if he was already asleep. Her phone chimed in the bag, interrupting her curiosity. Retrieving it she scanned the screen and frowned. Two texts and a missed call. All from her brother. “Hey Josh,” she answered. “Yo, where the hell have you been?” There was an urgency in his tone. “I've been calling you. I'm out front, let's go!” She frowned. “Wait, what time is it?” “Quarter to ten. I told you I'd be here at 9:30, remember?” She thought for a minute, then rolled her eyes, realizing what went wrong. “Fuck,” she spat. “I thought you meant 9:30 your time.” “So you're not ready?” “No, I packed last night. I'll be right down.” Hanging up she shook her head. How did she make that mistake? She thought she'd have an hour to shower and clean up, but now they were running late. No time for any of that. Swiping the key card from her sock she popped into her room and tossed the gift bag on the bed. Snagging her backpack and navy peacoat from the closet she dashed back out headed for the lobby. 9:52 am Shauna flung open the passenger door of the coupe and tumbled inside, stuffing the backpack between her feet as she settled in the seat. Her teeth chattered from their brief exposure to the cold. Rubbing her hands together near the warm air vent she looked over at her brother behind the wheel. He stared at her, forehead crinkled, a mix of confusion and amusement scrawled across his lips. “What,” she said, staring back. He glanced down at her bare thighs – the coat just covering her lap – then back at her scowl. “Nice touch,” he replied, pointing to the bright red pileus cap. “Thanks,” she quipped, flashing a smile. “But you know it's snowing, right?” She flipped him the bird. He shrugged. “You're going to get Uncle Leo in trouble today.” Shauna tried to stifle her laugh. “Just drive Josh.” He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. “Unlike you,” he said, “I got an early start. So I'm going to get some coffee. Did you eat already?” “Yup,” she nodded. “Several times.” Josh's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. At the next light he made a left and turned into the coffee shop drive-thru. Waiting in line behind a pick-up he turned to his sister. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look a little…weird.” Shauna checked herself in the side mirror. She could taste Ty's spunk on her tongue; feel Javon's cum in her ass and Sachiko's pussy all over her face. A shiver buzzed her clit. She reclined the seat several notches and sighed, beaming at the ceiling. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I'm just…filled with Christmas spirit.” Quietly she shoved her hands beneath her legs to keep from touching herself for the remainder of the trip. By TheSleepingKing for Literotica

Chapter 13 Out of the frying pan and into the volcano, The Dandy Crew find themselves face to face with two devastating enemies. One, a gruesome primordial fusion, and the other, memories of those lost. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode of the Let's Assess Podcast, we're diving into the world of snowmobile tuning and clutching to boost performance! If you're looking to maximize your sled's power and reliability, whether you're riding a Polaris, Ski-Doo, Arctic Cat, or Lynx, this is the guide for you. We'll talk about: - Turbocharged vs naturally aspirated setups: advantages and disadvantages - Essential tuning tips to improve throttle response and riding preferences - The pros and cons of different clutch setups and fuel mapping options - What options are out there regarding power Our opinion is that the right tuning and clutching can transform your snowmobile into a powerhouse. From high-altitude riding to navigating various terrains, we cover what you need to know to make the best decision for your sled. Let us know what you think in the comments! Your insights could help others decide the best setup for their needs. Prioritize maintenance and safety for optimal results. This episode could help you decide the best approach to enhance your snowmobiling experience. Let's hear your thoughts and experiences below!

Benny the monkey had watched the humans from his treetop for as long as he could remember. He saw them bustling around, bags in hand, always bringing home tasty treats. Curious and hungry, Benny decided to try it himself. So, one morning, when the sun was just rising, he slipped down from his tree, donned an old cap he'd found, and set off into town.The town square was busier than he'd expected. People rushed around, not even noticing the little monkey weaving through the crowd. Benny kept his head down, only stopping once he reached a big store with rows of fruits and veggies right by the entrance. His eyes lit up – bananas, mangoes, apples! He quickly grabbed a basket and began filling it.He wove through the aisles, adding everything he'd seen humans pick up before. Bread, crackers, even a small carton of milk. He hummed to himself, delighted by the success of his little mission. At last, with a basket piled high, he reached the checkout counter.The cashier, a young woman, looked down and stifled a giggle. "Well, aren't you the cutest customer I've had all day!" she said, scanning his items as if this was the most normal thing in the world.Just as Benny was reaching out to take the bag, he felt a tug on his cap. He turned to find a little girl pointing at him, eyes wide. “Mommy! Look! The monkey is shopping!” she exclaimed.People began gathering, snapping pictures and laughing, amazed at the monkey's calm demeanor as he paid with a handful of shiny coins he'd collected from around town. Benny tried to keep cool, acting just as he'd seen the humans do, until a loud bark interrupted him.A scruffy street dog, curious and territorial, had spotted the gathering crowd. He locked eyes with Benny, who suddenly felt his confidence falter. Clutching his grocery bag, he made a run for it, the dog in hot pursuit.Dodging through alleyways, Benny finally ducked into a quiet, dim building. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed shelves filled with different things – clocks, jewelry, old books. He'd stumbled into a pawn shop.The shop owner, an elderly man with thick glasses, peered down at him. “Well, what have we here? A shopping monkey, eh?” Benny offered him the bag with wide, pleading eyes.The old man chuckled, gave Benny a quick scratch behind the ear, and handed him a silver pendant in return. “For your bravery,” he said.Benny dashed back to his tree with his bag, the pendant around his neck as a badge of honor. From that day on, he became the monkey who not only grocery shopped but also wore a mysterious silver charm – a legend in town. And only Benny knew the secret of how he'd earned it. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

After reviewing the Bills' injury report and DeAndre Hopkins' trade to the Chiefs, The Sports Bar with Danger Battaglia spends some time during Happy Hour (Hour 3) discussing the phantom rule that prevents Tom Brady, now an NFL owner, from meeting with teams in preparation for his job as a Fox broadcaster. During a round of "Shots," baseball lost a legend, the NBA tipped off, and the Sabres won their second straight. Listen, download, rate, and subscribe here or wherever you enjoy your shows.

Even Pinhead struggled to get up and about as he made his return to the podcast this week, joining DT for a grim catch up about this Browns season. Deshaun remains a hot topic as we crawl towards a showdown in Philly against the Eagles.What has happened? How did we get to this point? Thanks for joining us again on the DDU Podcast, Go Browns!

This week, six millennials are astonishingly successful finding a large house to rent — the power points don't work, there's no mobile reception and the walls are quite literally made of alien woodlice. Oh, and it collapses into dust on their first night. It's Knock Knock. Notes and links Brendan quickly identifies two of the film antecedents of this story: The Evil Dead (1981), with its demonically possessed trees, and Hitchcock's Psycho (1960), whose antagonist has a complex relationship with his mother. Nathan first encounters David Suchet as Blott in Blott on the Landscape (1985), a BBC adaptation of Tom Sharpe's 1975 satirical novel of the same name. Knock Knock was written by Mike Bartlett, who was famous for a TV series called Dr Foster (2015), starring Suranne Jones as a woman who starts to suspect her husband of infidelity. David Suchet's first appearance in a Poirot property starring Peter Ustinov as Poirot — the 1985 made-for-TV movie Thirteen at Dinner (1985), an adaptation of Christie's Lord Edgeware Dies (1933), in which Suchet played Inspector Japp. Simon refers to the vault-related theorising of Whovians, a comedy aftershow that accompanied Series 10, 11 and 12 of Doctor Who on ABC-TV in Australia. Our very own Adam Richard was a regular in the show's first two seasons. And finally, Brendan recklessly introduces us to another possible inspiration for this episode, the 1977 film Death Bed: The Bed That Eats, which we would all have been better off not knowing about. Follow us Nathan is on Bluesky at @nathanbottomley.bsky.social, Brendan is at @retrobrendo.bsky.social, and Simon is on X at @simonmoore72. The Flight Through Entirety theme was arranged by Cameron Lam. You can follow Flight Through Entirety on Mastodon and Bluesky, as well as on X and Facebook. Our website is at flightthroughentirety.com. Please consider rating or reviewing us on Apple Podcasts, or we'll take advantage of the no-fact-checking rule to try and convince you that we're actually your real parents. And more You can find links to all of the podcasts we're involved in on our podcasts page. But here's a summary of where we're up to right now. 500 Year Diary is our latest new Doctor Who podcast, going back through the history of the show and examining new themes and ideas. It's first season came out early this year, under the title New Beginnings. Check it out. It will be back for a second season early in 2025. The Second Great and Bountiful Human Empire has broadcast our hot takes on every new episode of Doctor Who since November last year, and it will be back again in 2025 for Season 2. On 5 October, Blakes 7 came to BFI Southbank for a screening of the newly remastered HD versions of Seek–Locate–Destroy and Orac and a Q & A with Jan Chappell and Sally Knyvette. And Maximum Power was there. So check out today's newly released episode with our hot takes on the new versions of these beloved fan classics. And finally there's our Star Trek commentary podcast, Untitled Star Trek Project, featuring Nathan and friend-of-the-podcast Joe Ford. This week, they went back in time to see the origin story of breakout character Peanut Hamper in Star Trek: The Next Generation's The Quality of Life.

We must be careful not to offend folk who want to end the life of babies. This is the weirdest thing I have ever witnessed. I know I often use the superlative but in this case it is not ironic nor hyperbole. Tune in and take part in the conversation. Someting edifying and informative is sure to be said. or Bible questions and show topic suggestions send and email to: www.christianityisnow@gmail.com Be sure to follow us on "X" formerly known as Twitter: https://twitter.com/1Chronicles1232   If you want to support the show monthly, www.patreon.com/christianitynow   You can do a one time donation through PayPal: nearchurches@gmail.com   #christianitynow #christianitytoday #varietyshow #bibletime #biblestudy #gospel #biblequestions #bibleanswers #venting #gossip #bibletalk #biblepodcast #christiancontent #christianliving #biblicalworldview #faithjourney #fatihwalk #biblestudy #biblereading

Join the PM team as they meet film producer Dave Barras. Dave is known for his work with Fish including the documentaries on all Fish's deluxe editions, since Feast of Consequences, the Vigils End live show and the feature film "Electric Man". He also produced the documentary for Marillion's "Clutching at Straws" deluxe edition - "The Last Straw". Chat includes how he first became involved with Fish as well as Dave's work with the Scottish Youth Film Foundation. Electric Man has been reissued as a Blu-ray (contains both 2 and 3D versions) and is available via these links Electric Man 3D Blu-ray: PLATINUM LIMITED EDITION (gumroad.com) Electric Man 3D Blu-ray: Standard Edition (gumroad.com) Electric Man 3D - Digital Download (gumroad.com) For more information on the Scottish Youth Film Foundation visit Scottish Youth Film Foundation (syff.scot)

Clan fans we are back with reaction to the weekends games:First look at the new game night experience

In hour three Mike Halford and Jason Brough talk to Dan Robson about co-authoring Atiba Hutchinson's memoir which includes his journey through the ranks of pro football and fighting for Canada's name in the game. The fellas, also tell us what they learned.  This podcast is produced by Andy Cole and Greg Balloch. The views and opinions expressed in this podcast are those of the hosts and guests and do not necessarily reflect the position of Rogers Media Inc. or any affiliate.

The Clutching Hand 36-xx-xx (05)

Another challenging gem by Octavius Winslow-

Another challenging gem by Octavius Winslow-

A new MP3 sermon from Grace Audio Treasures is now available on SermonAudio with the following details: Title: If you plunge into eternity clutching the airy fiction Speaker: Octavius Winslow Broadcaster: Grace Audio Treasures Event: Devotional Date: 8/12/2024 Bible: John 3:3-6; Ephesians 2:8-9 Length: 1 min.

A new MP3 sermon from Grace Audio Treasures is now available on SermonAudio with the following details: Title: If you plunge into eternity clutching the airy fiction Speaker: Octavius Winslow Broadcaster: Grace Audio Treasures Event: Devotional Date: 8/12/2024 Bible: John 3:3-6; Ephesians 2:8-9 Length: 1 min.

Another challenging gem by Octavius Winslow!

"Jesus said to them, 'I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me shall never hunger."" Jn 6:35 NKJVAfter World War II, Europe was devastated with hungry, homeless children who had been orphaned by the battles. They were put in large camps where they were given food and care. Yet they didn't sleep well at night; they were nervous, fearful, and fidgety. The caregivers were baffled until a psychologist taught them to offer each child a piece of bread every night, not to eat, but to hold in bed. The outcome was astonishing. The children slept through the night because they realized they wouldn't go hungry the next day.Clutching the bread gave them a sense of protection (they were safe), importance (somebody cared about them), and happiness (there will be more bread tomorrow). Those three things were what those children needed-and they are what you need too. And all three can be found in a relationship with Jesus. When He said, "I am the bread of life.He who comes to Me shall never hunger," He was saying, "I am to your soul what food is to your body." Bread is one thing most of us have in common. It doesn't belong only to a particular region or nation. It's available in all shapes and sizes. In the UK, it may be scones; in South America, tortillas; in New York, bagels; and in Ethiopia, injera. In a simple statement, Jesus reminds us that He is our nourishment, everywhere, every time. So, be sure to read your Bible every day; it's your daily bread.Support the Show.Changing Lives | Building Strong Family | Impacting Our Community For Jesus Christ!

Rev. Ben is back from vacation to continue unpacking the juxtaposition between the rule of Herod, Pilate, and Caesar and Jesus.

It's Friday, time for our weekly get-together with Marcy Wheeler of emptywheel.net for a discussion of the week's news and ongoing media malpractice. Today, we discuss President Biden's solo press conference last night at the end of the NATO 75th anniversary summit, and the mainstream media's apparent missive to hand the election over to the fascists unless we can stop the circular firing squad and doomsayers.

If nudity freaks you out, that's fine, that's your business, but stop telling everyone else how to live their lives and mind your own damn business

Rece Davis and Pete Thamel sit down with Boise State head coach Spencer Danielson to discuss the moment last season - after his team won the Mountain West title - when he was officially moved from interim to full-time head coach. They also get into running back Ashton Jeanty's elite skillset and the upcoming quarterback battle between Malachi Nelson and Maddux Madsen. 0:00 Welcome  00:15 - Group Of Five Playoff Pathway To A Title 01:20 - Remembering The Great Boise St-Oklahoma Fiesta Bowl 04:49 - The Moment Spencer Danielson Became Boise State's HC 16:36 - Boise State HC On Recruiting The Current Roster 21:43 - RB Ashton Jeanty's Elite Skillset 26:50 - Boise State's Shot At Title With Expanded CFP 29:46 - Boise State's Upcoming QB Battle: Malachi vs Maddox 39:25 - A Quick Dive Into Boise State's In-Season Schedule 40:49 - Boise St, Memphis & Toledo Could Make CFP Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Charlie Eisenhood and Josh Mansfield break down the clutch moments that led to wins for Gannon Buhr and Holyn Handley at the Beaver State Fling before recapping the West Coast Swing and seeing who outperformed -- and underperformed -- out west.0:00 Buhr's BSF Performance8:55 Did Buhr Have a Time Violation?20:55 Handley's Late Run to Win34:30 West Coast Swing Stats45:30 West Coast Swing Picks Recap51:30 #Pursewatch

Clutching to our plans and our lives with clenched fists is a sure way to lose everything in the end. The only foolproof way to win is to lose ourselves to God -- and that means offering ourselves up with open hands, letting go and surrendering in obedience to Him.

Jane Garvey is back! And she has anecdotes aplenty... Brace yourselves! In this slightly bonkers episode, Jane and Fi cover sea-swimming, King Charles' first name and Greek yogurt. Plus, BBC Security Correspondent and writer Frank Gardner discusses his latest book 'Invasion'. You can book your tickets to see Jane and Fi live at the new Crossed Wires festival here: https://www.sheffieldtheatres.co.uk/book/instance/663601 If you want to contact the show to ask a question and get involved in the conversation then please email us: janeandfi@times.radioFollow us on Instagram! @janeandfiAssistant Producer: Eve SalusburyTimes Radio Producer: Rosie Cutler Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Clutching the last two tickets for the Big Weekend, it's Charlie's turn to hide somewhere in Luton. Another search begins. Also, find out all the details of Greg's arrest by the Bedfordshire police.

President Cyril Ramaphosa is scheduled to sign the National Health Insurance (NHI) Bill into law on May 15, 2024, at the Union Buildings in Pretoria. JP Landman, a political and trend analyst, discusses this unexpected populist-like moveSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Studying the gospels it is hard not to think about the relationship between hypocrisy and pearl-clutching. These two things whilst not always together nor the same thing are often very closely related. I pray something said will be edifying and informative.   Here is the article referenced: https://open.substack.com/pub/christianitynow/p/the-four-horsemen-of-disunity?r=2q6w2w&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web     Link to the merch store: https://christainitynow.myshopify.com/   for Bible questions and show topic suggestions send and email to: www.christianityisnow@gmail.com   Be sure to follow us on "X" formerly known as Twitter: https://twitter.com/1Chronicles1232   If you want to support the show monthly, www.patreon.com/christianitynow   You can do a one time donation through PayPal: nearchurches@gmail.com   #christianitynow #christianitytoday #varietyshow #bibletime #biblestudy #gospel

James lures Alasdair back down to the water's edge for an Important Mermaid Update! The Hayfield Mermaid first appeared in Series 2 (get up to speed here). Somehow, the Loreboys managed to overlook yet another freshwater mermaid in a nearby bottomless pool. And the grasping creature that dwells in the waters of Blakemere has a heck of a backstory. It's Hayfield Mermaids 2: Mere-lectric Mere-galoo! Disclaimer: some of this episode's "breaking news" is at least 40 years old. Join us for another Loremen Live in Oxford on 25th May: https://oldfirestation.org.uk/whats-on/loremen-podccast/ This episode was edited by Joseph Burrows - Audio Editor. LoreBoys nether say die! Support the Loremen here (and get stuff): patreon.com/loremenpod ko-fi.com/loremen Check the sweet, sweet merch here... https://www.teepublic.com/stores/loremen-podcast?ref_id=24631 @loremenpod youtube.com/loremenpodcast www.instagram.com/loremenpod www.facebook.com/loremenpod

 What is the best way to approach a climb?  It's a simple question that may be one of the most important things to ask yourself before you pull on each time, but it's never talked about. Tim Kang, professional climber and coach, shares the fundamental strategy needed to get your best performance each time.  Announcement!!$5 Patron's now have access to all Classroom recordings via Spotify, or through the Patreon app! That's 20+ hours of NEW content solving the climbing problems we all have! Go to Patreon and sign up now!  SHOW NOTES: Devilution by Shawn RaboutouElias Sending Burden of Dream (v17)Dana White on Lex FridmanSupport the showSupport us on Patreon: HEREVisit our podcast page: HERESign-up with one of our coaches: HEREFollow us on Instagram: HERE

David and Joe get excited about the possibility of Joe getting his hair cut live on the pod by Nicky Clarke. Joe's been sent a Dry Robe after his visit to the Wave because he got so cold. David and Joe struggle to find anything to talk about and find themselves talking about the next ep as they can't find anything to talk about in the current ep. Clutching at straws, David shows Joe how he rides his Peloton but Joe finds watching it unbearable and begs him to stop. David carries on riding, bobbing up and down until Joe threatens to turn the camera off. They talk about old jobs they have had and David reminisces about working at a golf club and how many mistakes he made. Joe reminds David that he also worked on a gold course and can't believe that David can't remember this despite telling him 20 times. They compare swishing and green keeping stories and David recalls his boss telling him off for spilling diesel all over the green and killing the grass. FOR ALL THINGS CHATABIX'Y FOLLOW/SUBSCRIBE/CONTACT: You Tube: https://www.youtube.com/@chatabixpodcast Twitter: https://twitter.com/chatabix1 Insta: https://www.instagram.com/chatabixpodcast/ Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/chatabix Merch: https://chatabixshop.com/ Contact us: chatabix@yahoo.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Mummified curses, the infamous Big Toe bandit, and lessons in Egyptology… Oh lawd, it's about to get pretty dark! Join these ‘90s kids as they seek to “return the slab” by unpacking some of Courage's most talked-about and seemingly sinister segments. They'll dive into ancient omens and confounding cases that brought Egyptian history to the Western world, look back at old Hollywood legends that led to the modern heist trope, and probably tell you far more than you ever expected to know about plagues of locusts. Email us at thatsprettydarkpodcast@gmail.comGive to our Patreon for extra content: patreon.com/tpdpodcastFollow us on Instagram and Facebook @thatsprettydarkpodcast

Ukraine clutching at straws, as exhaustion sets in

The Drive Hour 3 "Pearl Clutching" 2.29.24 by Fanrun Radio

The Best Hang goes behind the scenes on a new project they've been working on including some TBH listeners on set as extras. Shane explores life with an intense spray tan, and Max finds himself in a couple viral vids. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.