Podcasts about Kneeling

For years, Jessica's paranormal experiences had completely stopped.As a child, strange things happened often enough that she eventually grew used to them. But by the time she reached adulthood, everything had gone quiet for nearly five years. Then one night she woke up and saw someone kneeling beside her bed.At first, she thought it was her roommate standing in the dark. But the moment she reacted, the figure disappeared completely. A few nights later, something even stranger happened while she was sleeping at her boyfriend's house.This time, she didn't just see a figure. She watched unseen hands pulling at the blankets beside her.And after both experiences stopped immediately following a cleansing ritual, Jessica began wondering whether something may have attached itself to her without her realizing it.#RealGhostStories #ParanormalPodcast #GhostStories #ShadowFigure #TrueGhostStory #ParanormalEncounter #BedroomHaunting #SpiritAttachment #WhisperingVoices #HauntedExperienceLove real ghost stories? Want even more?Become a supporter and unlock exclusive extras, ad-free episodes, and advanced access:

For years, Jessica's paranormal experiences had completely stopped.As a child, strange things happened often enough that she eventually grew used to them. But by the time she reached adulthood, everything had gone quiet for nearly five years. Then one night she woke up and saw someone kneeling beside her bed.At first, she thought it was her roommate standing in the dark. But the moment she reacted, the figure disappeared completely. A few nights later, something even stranger happened while she was sleeping at her boyfriend's house.This time, she didn't just see a figure. She watched unseen hands pulling at the blankets beside her.And after both experiences stopped immediately following a cleansing ritual, Jessica began wondering whether something may have attached itself to her without her realizing it.#RealGhostStories #ParanormalPodcast #GhostStories #ShadowFigure #TrueGhostStory #ParanormalEncounter #BedroomHaunting #SpiritAttachment #WhisperingVoices #HauntedExperienceLove real ghost stories? Want even more?Become a supporter and unlock exclusive extras, ad-free episodes, and advanced access:

“What does active participation at Mass mean?” This question opens a discussion on the significance of engagement during the liturgy, including the practices of kneeling and standing at key moments. Other topics addressed include the meaning behind the priest’s prayer for “servants” during Mass and the implications of Eucharistic adoration as a spiritual weapon. Join the Catholic Answers Live Club Newsletter Invite our apologists to speak at your parish! Visit Catholicanswersspeakers.com Questions Covered: 02:20 – Eucharistic adoration is a neglected spiritual weapon. 11:08 – What does active participation at Mass mean? 15:53 – At the Agnus Dei is see a lot of people kneel and a lot of people stand. Which are we supposed to be doing? Also toward the end of Communion, when do we stop kneeling and start sitting — after the cleaning of the vessels, or when the tabernacle is closed? 23:06 – During the Mass the priest says “we pray for your servants” and then he pauses. Who are the servants referred to here? 29:23 – The Bible talks about a “mystery gospel” and a “secret doctrine”. I don't have the chapter and verse but believe me it's there. Do you have any insights into what these are? 36:05 – Is there ever a scenario where a non-Catholic who is aware of the Church can be saved? 42:40 – I kneel at the Agnus Dei because I think we should kneel when the tabernacle is open. The Bible says that we kneel before God. 45:45 – My non-Catholic friend comes to Mass with me sometimes. He wants to receive communion but I tell him he can't, that he needs to approach with his arms crossed. But he receives communion anyway. Should I stop inviting him? Have I sinned by not being forceful enough? 51:09 – I saw on YouTube that when Jesus was a child he fell from a roof, and he turned mud into birds, and other miracles. Are these true?

New Electric Ferrari - Parking Lot Steaks - Rock Star comes out as a "Proudly Gay Man" - Emotional support from a tiki bar - BMW vs Benz can kill you - Kneeling before "our" God - and so much more you might have missed this week 

UnBecoming Part 3.3 - The Hand You Squeeze Back (May 16, 2026)"I'm okay", he whispers, groggily attempting to sit up on the floor. Kneeling next to him, your hand on his arm, you survey the dimly lit room like a detective. His record player and a stack of albums, the music that had propped up your lives all these years, broke the fall and prevented him from hitting his head. You tell him not to move, as he stubbornly insists on rising anyway.With slow, steadying steps, he makes his way to the living room to await the emergency workers, with you following close behind, arms hovering outward, as if you could actually catch him if he fell again. >>> CONTINUEhttps://www.curlynikki.com/unbecoming.htmlLove's Provision To support the daily devotional and the work of The Cure: Donate to Lovehttps://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=EC6DCGW3CRP5G

Click here to receive today's free gift on the Radio Page:  Speaking God's Language – Throughout the Bible, God encourages us to bring before him our worship and praise, confession, thanksgivings, intercessions, and petitions. As Christians grow in the discipline of praying, it becomes clear that there is always more to learn. Joni Eareckson Tada shares insights and personal stories that will hone your skill of including scripture in your prayers. Use the coupon code: RADIOGIFT for free shipping! *Limit one copy per person* --------Thank you for listening! Your support of Joni and Friends helps make this show possible. Joni and Friends envisions a world where every person with a disability finds hope, dignity, and their place in the body of Christ. Become part of the global movement today at www.joniandfriends.org. Find more encouragement on Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, and YouTube.

We're joined by Dina Dow, director of evangelization and catechesis in the Diocese of Baton Rouge, will talk about the Blessed Mother and St Joseph as living models of how to follow Jesus. Dr. Luke Arredondo, Executive Director of the St. Brendan Center for Evangelization and Spirituality in the Diocese of Pensacola-Tallahassee with Catholic 101 segment: I see people kneel when they receive communion and stand when they receive communion. Is there a right way?

Prayer Warriors — Review of Lesson #6 of the 2nd Quarter of 2026 -The Sabbath School Lesson study guide can be found here:— https://ssnet.org/lessons/26b/less06.html— https://www.adultbiblestudyguide.org/archives— https://sabbath-school.adventech.io/enThe title of this quarter's theme is: Growing in a Relationship With GodFor the next 13 weeks (April to June 2026), we will look at God's desire to be in a relationship with humankind, and what that means for each of us personally.Related Podcasts:— Persistent and Consistent — Prayer Life— All About Jabez and his Prayer— Common Answers to PrayerRelated Podcasts at TrueWisdom:— Enoch walked with God— Prayer & Prophecy— Songs and PrayersText UsSupport the showSend questions or comments to: BibleQuestions@ASBzone.comThe Key Principles of Effective Bible Study is a resource which outlines core concepts shown in the Scriptures that will help you to better understand many Biblical themes and doctrines.  We have an extended, 24-part podcast series on these principles, and a condensed, 9-part series called God's Precious Word, that is based on the same resource.We also recommend that you check out the True Wisdom podcast which I co-host with Robert Baker -- a different format for Bible Study.Finally, check out these awesome Bible Maps!We pray that all of these resources will be very helpful to you in your Bible Studies.

Sponsored by Fidei Email:https://www.fidei.emailSources:https://www.returntotradition.orgorhttps://substack.com/@returntotradition1Contact Me:Email: return2catholictradition@gmail.comSupport My Work:Patreonhttps://www.patreon.com/AnthonyStineSubscribeStarhttps://www.subscribestar.net/return-to-traditionBuy Me A Coffeehttps://www.buymeacoffee.com/AnthonyStinePhysical Mail:Anthony StinePO Box 3048Shawnee, OK74802Follow me on the following social media:https://www.facebook.com/ReturnToCatholicTradition/https://twitter.com/pontificatormax+JMJ+#popeleoXIV #catholicism #catholicchurch #catholicprophecy#infiltration

Today's Sponsors: https://fieldofgreens.com — Get 20% off with promo code TM. https://www.birchgold.com/taylor — Get your FREE infokit from Birch Gold and secure your future today. Real Estate for Life: https://realestateforlife.org/ (and select "Dr. Taylor Marshall Show") https://nsti.com/checkout/?rid=pJNK69 This is the NSTI discount link to receive your $1 jump start at New Saint Thomas Institute for your Catholic Bible in a Year, Catholic Bible Cheat Sheet, and Catholic Lifetime Reading List and 10 Catholic Courses from Dr. Taylor Marshall. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Restless Sanctuary Episode 10: Kneeling and/or leaping? What happens when we kneel before the cross? What happens when we take the leap with Jesus? In this episode James and Albert are joined by long time contributor to Sanctuary First retired minister and incredible writer and thinker Peter Neilson! They continue to reflect on what it means to live ‘After the Cross' as we respond to Jesus' universe-changing act of love. They discuss disillusionment, hope, culture clash, brokenness, wholeness, the intimacy of kneeling, and the power of sitting across from someone at Communion. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Karl Barth, Jürgen Moltmann and John Zizioulas all get namechecks! Listen every fortnight to our new podcast about faith, restlessness and the search for meaning! James Cathcart and Albert Bogle from Sanctuary First share what it's like to be restless Christians, wrestling with the Bible and spirituality as they try and live it out today. Right now our world is very restless — politically, economically, culturally, technologically and environmentally. We are living through an age of disruption and upheaval. Many of us are longing for a sense of sanctuary, for belonging, and direction to help us face new and unprecedented challenges. At the root of Christianity James and Albert uncover a restlessness in God's heart that mirrors our own. A deep longing and restless love that searches out for each one of us. We glimpse God in the faces of one another in need and in God we glimpse our own human yearning for wholeness and love. James and Albert reckon Jesus offers sanctuary and respite for our restless souls, but that it is often a restless sanctuary, a temporary makeshift shelter in a world that we are called in turn to go out and love. The ship in their logo, designed by Jack Steel, is itself a restless sanctuary on the open water — not a shelter from the storm but a shelter through the storm. Join them every fortnight for fascinating discussions about being restless Christians in a restless world! The series is a collaboration between James Cathcart and Albert Bogle and features the track ‘Symphony of Lies' by The Bogle Band. Find the podcast here on Sanctuary First, in our Sanctuary First App, and on Spotify, Apple Podcasts and most other podcasting platforms!

How can your body not respond when your soul encounters the living God? Scripture reveals that from Abraham falling on his face to David dancing with abandon, worship has always engaged our entire being—not just our hearts. Pastor Rob challenges our culture's false separation between physical and spiritual, reminding us that God redeemed all of you, making your body an instrument of worship. Through kneeling, lifted hands, and prostrate surrender, we discover that worship shapes the worshiper—humility forms through posture, just as surrender flows through action. Don't miss this powerful call to worship without reservation—dive in now!

A lonely woman enjoys her postman.Based on a post by LindseyLuv. Listen to the Postman in Connected.Samantha awoke with a start, the beeping of her alarm clock ringing in her ears. Groggily, she rolled over and hit the snooze button. Five more minutes. Rolling over onto her back, she gazed up at the ceiling, trying to find the motivation to crawl out of bed and get ready for work. Her mind wandered to the day ahead, the meetings, the paperwork, the boredom of sitting in her cubicle waiting for five o'clock to roll around. Just like every day. She sighed. At least it paid the rent. At 48 years old, she s begun to think her chances of finding a mate were slipping away. Her body still has great curves, even if the portions are now more bountiful. Her face was always alluring, but she s not been smiling as much, lately.Soon enough, Samantha’s alarm clock went off again, breaking her out of her sleepy haze. Rolling her legs off the side of her bed into her warm slippers, she stood up with a yawn, and headed downstairs to make herself breakfast.Sat at the small dining table of her flat’s modest kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, she couldn’t help but stare off into the distance. Checking the clock, she felt a sudden familiar rush of excitement. It was nearly eight. Tapping her foot, she waited eagerly for the one thing that invariably brightened her day. Rudy.Almost on cue, she heard the doorbell ring, and practically leapt to her feet. After adjusting her dressing gown to make sure she was decent, she quickly made her way to the front door. Through the glass she could see a familiar silhouette standing on her porch, a large bag slung over his broad shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat. Quickly adjusting her hair, she reached out her and opened the door.“Hi” Sam said with a warm continence.“Good morning. Parcel for you, Miss Foster. I assume it s for you? It says S Foster. Is there any other S foster at this address?”Sadly, I ve lived alone for several years. My late husband suffered health issues, and passed away 5 years ago.Ah, that s difficult to get past, isn t it, Miss Foster? You know; Jenny and I, she s my 17 year old daughter; We lost my dear Caroline, 16 years ago. Jenny still has emotional issues with me moving on; you know? Going on dates, and such.Oh, Rudy, you re raising a daughter by yourself? You re a brave and devoted parent. Is she still in high school?Graduating this spring! She might be valedictorian, if she keeps up her grades. Heading off to state university next fall on a nursing scholarship. But that s when I hope to move on to what s next for me.Samantha smiled. In front of her stood a tall, handsome man, wearing a postman’s uniform. His hair was a dusty blonde color, shaved short at the sides, and his eyes shone the deep blue of the ocean at night. Beneath his clothes, his muscular build was evident, and as he spoke the warm smile on his lips and the light stubble decorating his sharp jawline made her heart flutter.Rudy handed her the letters, and the parcel. Reaching out, she took the parcel from his hands, her fingers brushing against his as she did, causing them both to laugh awkwardly.She looked up at him. “Oh, thank you, Rudy.Smiling, he tipped his hat and said; I better keep moving. Rain showers are expected every afternoon this week. Good day, Miss Foster. It s been really nice to visit."Same time tomorrow?”“Same time tomorrow. 8AM sharp. As long as I have a package to deliver, of course.”They both chuckled, and as he made his way back down the garden path, Samantha couldn’t help but sigh, as she watched him go.Closing the door, she made her way back into the kitchen, putting the parcel down on the table, and returning to her breakfast. Quickly finishing her toast, she left the water boiling to make her way upstairs to the bathroom.Letting her dressing gown fall around her feet, Samantha stepped into the shower and turned on the faucet. As the warm water began to cascade down her body, she let out a long, content sigh. Few things in life felt as good as a warm shower.Closing her eyes, she just stood there for a while, letting the water run down her naked body, across her shoulders, between her tits, down her thighs to her feet. Once again, she thought about the day ahead of her, and grimaced. God, she needed a break. She’d been working in the same office for almost five years now, with no promotion and barely a pay rise. It wasn’t a bad job by any means, but after a while the monotony had begun to wear on her soul. What she needed was an escape, something new and exciting to revitalize her.Perhaps a holiday, she thought, reaching for the strawberry and coconut shower gel to her right. Somewhere exciting, and exotic, like India or South America. She smiled to herself. Perhaps she could just go spontaneously, book a week off work and head to the airport, jump on the first flight she could and see where the universe took her. She laughed.As she began to lather herself with soap, her thoughts wandered once again, back to the handsome postman who came to her door every day. She thought about his smile, and the way his eyes sparkled when she asked if she’d see him again tomorrow. Her hands moved across her stomach, and she couldn’t help but think of the way his hands brushed against hers, the tenderness with which he handed her post to her.She felt her cheeks beginning to flush as her imagination took her further, to the tightness of his shirt, stretched across his muscular chest, and sharp cut of his jaw. Her hands began to drift further down, across her thighs as she began to picture him shirtless, his strong arms wrapped around her, his own hands on her body, caressing her, holding her tight against him as he kissed her neck from behind. She let out a soft gasp as her fingertips traced higher along her legs, getting closer and closer to her privates as her thoughts grew steamier by the second. Barely inches from herself, she imagined him pushing her down gently onto the bed, climbing on top of her from behind, his mouth on her ear…Suddenly, she snapped back to reality. She still had to be at work in half an hour. Finishing her shower, she turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel from the rack to dry herself as she quickly made her way to her bedroom to get dressed.Leaving the house, locking the door behind her, Samantha couldn’t help but feel a sense of melancholy at leaving her fantasy behind as well. Sitting in the morning traffic, her brain a mess of emotions, she tried not to think about it, and to focus on the day ahead instead. She’d always been a model employee, reliable and good at her work, but lately she’d been falling behind, and she couldn’t afford to have another unproductive day.But later, sat alone in her cubicle, she found it increasingly hard to focus on her work. Every time she tried to work on a report, she’s just end up staring at the screen, reading the same sentences, over and over, unable to think of anything but the man who came to her door every day.By the time her lunch break had rolled around, she’d barely done any work at all. Grabbing her coat, she made her way towards the staircase, heading out to the cafe down the road, where she usually got her sandwiches. Stepping through the door to her concrete office building and out onto the windy street, she turned her collar up to the cold. As she started to walk, she could feel the familiar melancholy feeling rising again. Here she was, on her way to the same sandwich shop she visited every day, to get the same thing for lunch, before heading back to the same building to do the same boring job. Every single day. She wanted to scream.She needed to escape, find something to break up the monotony of her life, even for just a moment. A string of failed relationships had seen her throw herself into her work, but now she couldn’t stand the idea of doing this for the rest of her life. She needed something to spice things up, something wild and spontaneous, to bring the spring back to her step. An idea quickly flashed across her mind, but she dismissed it as fantasy.But then, suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Why did it just have to be a fantasy? Why couldn’t she make it a reality? What was stopping her? She nodded to herself. She’d made up her mind. Nothing was going to change if she didn’t force it to. She needed to break out, live her life the way she wanted to. And she knew exactly what she was going to do first.Hurrying to the cafe, she made her order, choosing the first thing she saw on the menu. She gave the girl behind the counter her money, and made her way back to the office, eating as she went. She began to plan exactly what she was going to do, how best to put her plan into motion. By the time she arrived back at her cubicle her mind was set. She sat down, turning her computer back on, and went back to trying to work, her mind a whirlwind of excitement. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, shaking slightly as her heart pounded in anticipation.It didn’t take long to make up for the slow morning, and by the time the clock chimed five, Samantha was reasonably pleased with the work she’d accomplished. Grabbing her coat again, she made her way towards her boss’s office.As she rapped her knuckles against the door, she heard a gruff voice from within.“Yes, come in.”Opening the door, she saw the director of her company closing up his laptop and putting it away into his bag.“Ah, Samantha, how can I help?”“Hi, Mr. Bergstein, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know I might be a bit late to work tomorrow.”Her boss raised an eyebrow.“Tomorrow? You’ve left it awfully late to tell me. What’s going on?”Samantha felt her heart leap into her throat.“Something’s come up at home, and I just need to take care of it tomorrow morning. I’ll be in by ten, don’t worry.”Mr. Bergstein gave a slight chuckle.“Don’t worry, I won’t, as long as you’re happy to stay late to make up for it?”Samantha grinned. That was easier than expected.“Of course, sir! See you tomorrow!”“Goodbye, Miss Foster.”Closing the door to the office, Samantha felt giddy. Grabbing her coat and bag, she hurried outside to her car, throwing open the door and climbing inside. The ride home was a blur, she struggled to focus on the road as a mixture of emotions shot through her brain. By the time she got home she was positively ecstatic.That evening was one of the hardest of Samantha’s life. She sat on the couch, trying to focus on the tv, trying to ignore the anticipation hovering in her gut. Soon enough, it was time for bed, and as she climbed under the sheets, her satin nightgown smooth against her skin, she hoped she’d fall asleep quickly.After tossing and turning for close to an hour, she finally managed to overcome the butterflies in her stomach that kept her from sleep. The next morning, when her alarm clocked beeped out its familiar chime, it took no time at all for Samantha to wake up. Practically leaping out of bed, she made her way to the bathroom. It was earlier than usual, she wanted to give herself a bit of extra time just to make sure everything was perfect.Shedding her nightie, she climbed eagerly into the warm water of the shower, closing her eyes as her body relaxed under the steady stream. She didn’t let her mind wander today, her thoughts too focused on her plan. Grabbing the shower gel, she made sure to wash herself thoroughly, before returning the bottle to its shelf and reaching for her razor.By the time she’d finished, her legs were as smooth as silk, not too speak for her underarms or her privates. Turning off the water, she quickly dried herself with a towel from the rack, and headed back towards her bedroom.Sitting herself down, still wrapped in her towel, she began to fix her make-up. She wanted to look her best, after all. She tried to keep it modest, but sexy; mascara, eyeliner, and ruby red lipstick. She took a moment to admire herself in the mirror, before blowing a playful kiss to her reflection.Shedding the towel, she opened her closet. Time for the hardest choice. Rifling through her lingerie draw, she finally settled on an outfit; a black and red lace bra with matching panties, sheer black stockings, suspenders, and a black garter belt. She stood in front of the mirror, admiring herself. She looked stunning.Quickly making the bed, she made her way towards the stairs, just in time for the doorbell to ring, sending a wave of excitement and anticipation throughout her entire body. Trying to keep her nerves under control, Samantha made her way towards the door. Through the glass she could see Rudy’s silhouette, and her heart skipped a beat. This was it. Reaching out a quivering hand, she grasped the door handle, and opened it.“Good morning, Miss.. oh.”Samantha stood there for a moment, catching her breath as Rudy looked her up and down. The way his eyes moved across her body told her everything she needed to know about his reaction. The bulge quickly forming in his trousers did the rest. His eyes flicked up to meet hers.“Should I come in?”His words gave her all the courage she needed. Breaking into a mischievous smile Samantha reached out and grabbed his collar with both hands, pulling him excitedly into the entrance hall, slamming the door shut behind him. Now pressed tightly together between the narrow walls of the hallway, she pulled his face down to hers, launching the two of them into a passionate kiss.As their lips touched, Samantha felt her heart beating as loud as drum, amazed and excited by Rudy’s willingness. She let her mouth open, and he followed suit, allowing her tongue into his mouth as she deepened the kiss.Samantha was in heaven. She could barely believe this was really happening, that she had the man, the object of all her carnal desires, here in her arms.As they kissed, tongues dancing passionately, she felt Rudy’s hands slip from his bag to her waist, holding her bare sides firmly, drawing her closer to him, until their bodies were pressed tight, and she could feel his own fast heartbeat pounding in time with her own.Closing her eyes tight, she let go of his collar, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, cupping one side of his face as she did. The rough texture of his stubble made her shiver, and in response she felt his hands beginning to roam. Slowly at first, just his thumbs rubbing in rhythmic circles, teasing her, before beginning to move his whole hands up and down her sides, his firm grip sending shivers throughout her body. As he began tracing a sensual pattern across her bare skin, she broke the kiss to let out a short breathy gasp of arousal.Taking his opportunity, Rudy lent forward, his mouth next to her ear, and began to speak softly to her as his hands continued to explore her body. “How long have you been planning this?”Samantha could barely respond. “Only since yesterday. But I’ve wanted you for so much longer.”Rudy smiled. “I’ve wanted you too.”Samantha opened her eyes, her face inches from the handsome man holding her in his arms, the man she’d secretly pined over for months, and couldn’t stop herself kissing him once more.The two stood in the hallway, lips pressed tightly together, kissing passionately as Rudy’s hands moved across Samantha’s body, from her sides to her back, down to her ass. Soon, after what felt to her like a blissful eternity, Samantha grasped his collar once again, breaking the kiss to give him another mischievous smile.“Come on” she said, escaping from his embrace to drag him towards the stairs, up to her bedroom. They’d barely made it through the door before she had him on his back, sprawled out on her bed as she stood over him, body pink and flushed with arousal.Heart pounding, she took a step forward, gently dropping to her knees as she crawled towards him. Kneeling between his legs, she looked up at his face, also flushed, and began to slowly unzip his fly. She took her time, making sure to draw the act out for as long as possible, before gently tugging the heavy fabric down to his knees.Samantha looked back down, at the large bulge now facing her, covered only by the thin cotton of Rudy’s boxers. With trembling fingers, she worked her way along the waistline, making sure to watch his face as she did, reveling in the excited frustration he showed at her teasing.Finally, she pulled down the fabric, allowing his erection to spring forth. Samantha gasped. Barely inches from her face stood Rudy’s cock, hard and pulsing before her. It was larger than she’d expected, and as she stared she could feel the butterflies in her stomach fluttering harder than ever before.Slowly, trying hard to keep her nervous hands steady, Samantha curled her fingers around the shaft, being careful not to lose sight of Rudy’s face. The postman let out a low groan as he finally felt her soft hands on his cock.Filled with a new confidence, Samantha began to stroke. Starting slow, she soon found a comfortable rhythm, and before long had Rudy groaning as she worked his shaft with her hands. She stared up at him, admiring her skills. It had been a while since she’d had someone to use them on. Leaning forward, eyes still locked on his, she planted a soft kiss at his base, causing the cock in her hand to jump.Letting out a satisfied giggle, she began to work her mouth along the side of his shaft, kissing as she went, until she reached the head of his cock. For a moment she hovered, staring in amusement at the purple head before her, before opening her mouth and taking him inside.Immediately Rudy let out a moan, followed by a breathy exhale as Samantha adjusted to the size of his cock. Gently, she ran her tongue around the head, sensually exploring every inch with glee. His cock tasted divine, and Samantha couldn’t get enough. With care, she ran her tongue across the tip, savoring the salty sweet taste of precum while Rudy shivered beneath her. Closing her eyes, she decided it was time to go further.Keeping hold of the base with one hand, she began to bob her head, relaxing as she took the first few inches inside. It felt hot in her mouth, and she couldn’t help but feel her cheeks flushing with excitement. Slowly moving up and down, she tried to draw out each rise as much as she could, forcing him to wait for each new stroke, before deciding again, each time taking him almost half way into her mouth before coming back up again.Samantha felt amazing. Looking up at his face, eyes shut and mouth open in a mask of pleasure, she knew how much pleasure she was giving him with her mouth. She felt a surge of pride. Here she was, on her knees, going down on the man she’d lusted after for so long. And there he lay, moaning as she sucked him off. She’d never felt so sexy.Returning to the cock in her mouth, she began moving with renewed vigor, speeding up her strokes as she began to work the shaft with her hand as well. Moving in tandem with her fingers, she bobbed her mouth up and down vigorously, in turn making Rudy groan audibly with pleasu

A lonely woman enjoys her postman.Based on a post by LindseyLuv. Listen to the Postman in Connected.Samantha awoke with a start, the beeping of her alarm clock ringing in her ears. Groggily, she rolled over and hit the snooze button. Five more minutes. Rolling over onto her back, she gazed up at the ceiling, trying to find the motivation to crawl out of bed and get ready for work. Her mind wandered to the day ahead, the meetings, the paperwork, the boredom of sitting in her cubicle waiting for five o'clock to roll around. Just like every day. She sighed. At least it paid the rent. At 48 years old, she s begun to think her chances of finding a mate were slipping away. Her body still has great curves, even if the portions are now more bountiful. Her face was always alluring, but she s not been smiling as much, lately.Soon enough, Samantha’s alarm clock went off again, breaking her out of her sleepy haze. Rolling her legs off the side of her bed into her warm slippers, she stood up with a yawn, and headed downstairs to make herself breakfast.Sat at the small dining table of her flat’s modest kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, she couldn’t help but stare off into the distance. Checking the clock, she felt a sudden familiar rush of excitement. It was nearly eight. Tapping her foot, she waited eagerly for the one thing that invariably brightened her day. Rudy.Almost on cue, she heard the doorbell ring, and practically leapt to her feet. After adjusting her dressing gown to make sure she was decent, she quickly made her way to the front door. Through the glass she could see a familiar silhouette standing on her porch, a large bag slung over his broad shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat. Quickly adjusting her hair, she reached out her and opened the door.“Hi” Sam said with a warm continence.“Good morning. Parcel for you, Miss Foster. I assume it s for you? It says S Foster. Is there any other S foster at this address?”Sadly, I ve lived alone for several years. My late husband suffered health issues, and passed away 5 years ago.Ah, that s difficult to get past, isn t it, Miss Foster? You know; Jenny and I, she s my 17 year old daughter; We lost my dear Caroline, 16 years ago. Jenny still has emotional issues with me moving on; you know? Going on dates, and such.Oh, Rudy, you re raising a daughter by yourself? You re a brave and devoted parent. Is she still in high school?Graduating this spring! She might be valedictorian, if she keeps up her grades. Heading off to state university next fall on a nursing scholarship. But that s when I hope to move on to what s next for me.Samantha smiled. In front of her stood a tall, handsome man, wearing a postman’s uniform. His hair was a dusty blonde color, shaved short at the sides, and his eyes shone the deep blue of the ocean at night. Beneath his clothes, his muscular build was evident, and as he spoke the warm smile on his lips and the light stubble decorating his sharp jawline made her heart flutter.Rudy handed her the letters, and the parcel. Reaching out, she took the parcel from his hands, her fingers brushing against his as she did, causing them both to laugh awkwardly.She looked up at him. “Oh, thank you, Rudy.Smiling, he tipped his hat and said; I better keep moving. Rain showers are expected every afternoon this week. Good day, Miss Foster. It s been really nice to visit."Same time tomorrow?”“Same time tomorrow. 8AM sharp. As long as I have a package to deliver, of course.”They both chuckled, and as he made his way back down the garden path, Samantha couldn’t help but sigh, as she watched him go.Closing the door, she made her way back into the kitchen, putting the parcel down on the table, and returning to her breakfast. Quickly finishing her toast, she left the water boiling to make her way upstairs to the bathroom.Letting her dressing gown fall around her feet, Samantha stepped into the shower and turned on the faucet. As the warm water began to cascade down her body, she let out a long, content sigh. Few things in life felt as good as a warm shower.Closing her eyes, she just stood there for a while, letting the water run down her naked body, across her shoulders, between her tits, down her thighs to her feet. Once again, she thought about the day ahead of her, and grimaced. God, she needed a break. She’d been working in the same office for almost five years now, with no promotion and barely a pay rise. It wasn’t a bad job by any means, but after a while the monotony had begun to wear on her soul. What she needed was an escape, something new and exciting to revitalize her.Perhaps a holiday, she thought, reaching for the strawberry and coconut shower gel to her right. Somewhere exciting, and exotic, like India or South America. She smiled to herself. Perhaps she could just go spontaneously, book a week off work and head to the airport, jump on the first flight she could and see where the universe took her. She laughed.As she began to lather herself with soap, her thoughts wandered once again, back to the handsome postman who came to her door every day. She thought about his smile, and the way his eyes sparkled when she asked if she’d see him again tomorrow. Her hands moved across her stomach, and she couldn’t help but think of the way his hands brushed against hers, the tenderness with which he handed her post to her.She felt her cheeks beginning to flush as her imagination took her further, to the tightness of his shirt, stretched across his muscular chest, and sharp cut of his jaw. Her hands began to drift further down, across her thighs as she began to picture him shirtless, his strong arms wrapped around her, his own hands on her body, caressing her, holding her tight against him as he kissed her neck from behind. She let out a soft gasp as her fingertips traced higher along her legs, getting closer and closer to her privates as her thoughts grew steamier by the second. Barely inches from herself, she imagined him pushing her down gently onto the bed, climbing on top of her from behind, his mouth on her ear…Suddenly, she snapped back to reality. She still had to be at work in half an hour. Finishing her shower, she turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel from the rack to dry herself as she quickly made her way to her bedroom to get dressed.Leaving the house, locking the door behind her, Samantha couldn’t help but feel a sense of melancholy at leaving her fantasy behind as well. Sitting in the morning traffic, her brain a mess of emotions, she tried not to think about it, and to focus on the day ahead instead. She’d always been a model employee, reliable and good at her work, but lately she’d been falling behind, and she couldn’t afford to have another unproductive day.But later, sat alone in her cubicle, she found it increasingly hard to focus on her work. Every time she tried to work on a report, she’s just end up staring at the screen, reading the same sentences, over and over, unable to think of anything but the man who came to her door every day.By the time her lunch break had rolled around, she’d barely done any work at all. Grabbing her coat, she made her way towards the staircase, heading out to the cafe down the road, where she usually got her sandwiches. Stepping through the door to her concrete office building and out onto the windy street, she turned her collar up to the cold. As she started to walk, she could feel the familiar melancholy feeling rising again. Here she was, on her way to the same sandwich shop she visited every day, to get the same thing for lunch, before heading back to the same building to do the same boring job. Every single day. She wanted to scream.She needed to escape, find something to break up the monotony of her life, even for just a moment. A string of failed relationships had seen her throw herself into her work, but now she couldn’t stand the idea of doing this for the rest of her life. She needed something to spice things up, something wild and spontaneous, to bring the spring back to her step. An idea quickly flashed across her mind, but she dismissed it as fantasy.But then, suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Why did it just have to be a fantasy? Why couldn’t she make it a reality? What was stopping her? She nodded to herself. She’d made up her mind. Nothing was going to change if she didn’t force it to. She needed to break out, live her life the way she wanted to. And she knew exactly what she was going to do first.Hurrying to the cafe, she made her order, choosing the first thing she saw on the menu. She gave the girl behind the counter her money, and made her way back to the office, eating as she went. She began to plan exactly what she was going to do, how best to put her plan into motion. By the time she arrived back at her cubicle her mind was set. She sat down, turning her computer back on, and went back to trying to work, her mind a whirlwind of excitement. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, shaking slightly as her heart pounded in anticipation.It didn’t take long to make up for the slow morning, and by the time the clock chimed five, Samantha was reasonably pleased with the work she’d accomplished. Grabbing her coat again, she made her way towards her boss’s office.As she rapped her knuckles against the door, she heard a gruff voice from within.“Yes, come in.”Opening the door, she saw the director of her company closing up his laptop and putting it away into his bag.“Ah, Samantha, how can I help?”“Hi, Mr. Bergstein, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know I might be a bit late to work tomorrow.”Her boss raised an eyebrow.“Tomorrow? You’ve left it awfully late to tell me. What’s going on?”Samantha felt her heart leap into her throat.“Something’s come up at home, and I just need to take care of it tomorrow morning. I’ll be in by ten, don’t worry.”Mr. Bergstein gave a slight chuckle.“Don’t worry, I won’t, as long as you’re happy to stay late to make up for it?”Samantha grinned. That was easier than expected.“Of course, sir! See you tomorrow!”“Goodbye, Miss Foster.”Closing the door to the office, Samantha felt giddy. Grabbing her coat and bag, she hurried outside to her car, throwing open the door and climbing inside. The ride home was a blur, she struggled to focus on the road as a mixture of emotions shot through her brain. By the time she got home she was positively ecstatic.That evening was one of the hardest of Samantha’s life. She sat on the couch, trying to focus on the tv, trying to ignore the anticipation hovering in her gut. Soon enough, it was time for bed, and as she climbed under the sheets, her satin nightgown smooth against her skin, she hoped she’d fall asleep quickly.After tossing and turning for close to an hour, she finally managed to overcome the butterflies in her stomach that kept her from sleep. The next morning, when her alarm clocked beeped out its familiar chime, it took no time at all for Samantha to wake up. Practically leaping out of bed, she made her way to the bathroom. It was earlier than usual, she wanted to give herself a bit of extra time just to make sure everything was perfect.Shedding her nightie, she climbed eagerly into the warm water of the shower, closing her eyes as her body relaxed under the steady stream. She didn’t let her mind wander today, her thoughts too focused on her plan. Grabbing the shower gel, she made sure to wash herself thoroughly, before returning the bottle to its shelf and reaching for her razor.By the time she’d finished, her legs were as smooth as silk, not too speak for her underarms or her privates. Turning off the water, she quickly dried herself with a towel from the rack, and headed back towards her bedroom.Sitting herself down, still wrapped in her towel, she began to fix her make-up. She wanted to look her best, after all. She tried to keep it modest, but sexy; mascara, eyeliner, and ruby red lipstick. She took a moment to admire herself in the mirror, before blowing a playful kiss to her reflection.Shedding the towel, she opened her closet. Time for the hardest choice. Rifling through her lingerie draw, she finally settled on an outfit; a black and red lace bra with matching panties, sheer black stockings, suspenders, and a black garter belt. She stood in front of the mirror, admiring herself. She looked stunning.Quickly making the bed, she made her way towards the stairs, just in time for the doorbell to ring, sending a wave of excitement and anticipation throughout her entire body. Trying to keep her nerves under control, Samantha made her way towards the door. Through the glass she could see Rudy’s silhouette, and her heart skipped a beat. This was it. Reaching out a quivering hand, she grasped the door handle, and opened it.“Good morning, Miss.. oh.”Samantha stood there for a moment, catching her breath as Rudy looked her up and down. The way his eyes moved across her body told her everything she needed to know about his reaction. The bulge quickly forming in his trousers did the rest. His eyes flicked up to meet hers.“Should I come in?”His words gave her all the courage she needed. Breaking into a mischievous smile Samantha reached out and grabbed his collar with both hands, pulling him excitedly into the entrance hall, slamming the door shut behind him. Now pressed tightly together between the narrow walls of the hallway, she pulled his face down to hers, launching the two of them into a passionate kiss.As their lips touched, Samantha felt her heart beating as loud as drum, amazed and excited by Rudy’s willingness. She let her mouth open, and he followed suit, allowing her tongue into his mouth as she deepened the kiss.Samantha was in heaven. She could barely believe this was really happening, that she had the man, the object of all her carnal desires, here in her arms.As they kissed, tongues dancing passionately, she felt Rudy’s hands slip from his bag to her waist, holding her bare sides firmly, drawing her closer to him, until their bodies were pressed tight, and she could feel his own fast heartbeat pounding in time with her own.Closing her eyes tight, she let go of his collar, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, cupping one side of his face as she did. The rough texture of his stubble made her shiver, and in response she felt his hands beginning to roam. Slowly at first, just his thumbs rubbing in rhythmic circles, teasing her, before beginning to move his whole hands up and down her sides, his firm grip sending shivers throughout her body. As he began tracing a sensual pattern across her bare skin, she broke the kiss to let out a short breathy gasp of arousal.Taking his opportunity, Rudy lent forward, his mouth next to her ear, and began to speak softly to her as his hands continued to explore her body. “How long have you been planning this?”Samantha could barely respond. “Only since yesterday. But I’ve wanted you for so much longer.”Rudy smiled. “I’ve wanted you too.”Samantha opened her eyes, her face inches from the handsome man holding her in his arms, the man she’d secretly pined over for months, and couldn’t stop herself kissing him once more.The two stood in the hallway, lips pressed tightly together, kissing passionately as Rudy’s hands moved across Samantha’s body, from her sides to her back, down to her ass. Soon, after what felt to her like a blissful eternity, Samantha grasped his collar once again, breaking the kiss to give him another mischievous smile.“Come on” she said, escaping from his embrace to drag him towards the stairs, up to her bedroom. They’d barely made it through the door before she had him on his back, sprawled out on her bed as she stood over him, body pink and flushed with arousal.Heart pounding, she took a step forward, gently dropping to her knees as she crawled towards him. Kneeling between his legs, she looked up at his face, also flushed, and began to slowly unzip his fly. She took her time, making sure to draw the act out for as long as possible, before gently tugging the heavy fabric down to his knees.Samantha looked back down, at the large bulge now facing her, covered only by the thin cotton of Rudy’s boxers. With trembling fingers, she worked her way along the waistline, making sure to watch his face as she did, reveling in the excited frustration he showed at her teasing.Finally, she pulled down the fabric, allowing his erection to spring forth. Samantha gasped. Barely inches from her face stood Rudy’s cock, hard and pulsing before her. It was larger than she’d expected, and as she stared she could feel the butterflies in her stomach fluttering harder than ever before.Slowly, trying hard to keep her nervous hands steady, Samantha curled her fingers around the shaft, being careful not to lose sight of Rudy’s face. The postman let out a low groan as he finally felt her soft hands on his cock.Filled with a new confidence, Samantha began to stroke. Starting slow, she soon found a comfortable rhythm, and before long had Rudy groaning as she worked his shaft with her hands. She stared up at him, admiring her skills. It had been a while since she’d had someone to use them on. Leaning forward, eyes still locked on his, she planted a soft kiss at his base, causing the cock in her hand to jump.Letting out a satisfied giggle, she began to work her mouth along the side of his shaft, kissing as she went, until she reached the head of his cock. For a moment she hovered, staring in amusement at the purple head before her, before opening her mouth and taking him inside.Immediately Rudy let out a moan, followed by a breathy exhale as Samantha adjusted to the size of his cock. Gently, she ran her tongue around the head, sensually exploring every inch with glee. His cock tasted divine, and Samantha couldn’t get enough. With care, she ran her tongue across the tip, savoring the salty sweet taste of precum while Rudy shivered beneath her. Closing her eyes, she decided it was time to go further.Keeping hold of the base with one hand, she began to bob her head, relaxing as she took the first few inches inside. It felt hot in her mouth, and she couldn’t help but feel her cheeks flushing with excitement. Slowly moving up and down, she tried to draw out each rise as much as she could, forcing him to wait for each new stroke, before deciding again, each time taking him almost half way into her mouth before coming back up again.Samantha felt amazing. Looking up at his face, eyes shut and mouth open in a mask of pleasure, she knew how much pleasure she was giving him with her mouth. She felt a surge of pride. Here she was, on her knees, going down on the man she’d lusted after for so long. And there he lay, moaning as she sucked him off. She’d never felt so sexy.Returning to the cock in her mouth, she began moving with renewed vigor, speeding up her strokes as she began to work the shaft with her hand as well. Moving in tandem with her fingers, she bobbed her mouth up and down vigorously, in turn making Rudy groan audibly with pleasu

A lonely woman enjoys her postman.Based on a post by LindseyLuv. Listen to the Postman in Connected.Samantha awoke with a start, the beeping of her alarm clock ringing in her ears. Groggily, she rolled over and hit the snooze button. Five more minutes. Rolling over onto her back, she gazed up at the ceiling, trying to find the motivation to crawl out of bed and get ready for work. Her mind wandered to the day ahead, the meetings, the paperwork, the boredom of sitting in her cubicle waiting for five o'clock to roll around. Just like every day. She sighed. At least it paid the rent. At 48 years old, she s begun to think her chances of finding a mate were slipping away. Her body still has great curves, even if the portions are now more bountiful. Her face was always alluring, but she s not been smiling as much, lately.Soon enough, Samantha’s alarm clock went off again, breaking her out of her sleepy haze. Rolling her legs off the side of her bed into her warm slippers, she stood up with a yawn, and headed downstairs to make herself breakfast.Sat at the small dining table of her flat’s modest kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, she couldn’t help but stare off into the distance. Checking the clock, she felt a sudden familiar rush of excitement. It was nearly eight. Tapping her foot, she waited eagerly for the one thing that invariably brightened her day. Rudy.Almost on cue, she heard the doorbell ring, and practically leapt to her feet. After adjusting her dressing gown to make sure she was decent, she quickly made her way to the front door. Through the glass she could see a familiar silhouette standing on her porch, a large bag slung over his broad shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat. Quickly adjusting her hair, she reached out her and opened the door.“Hi” Sam said with a warm continence.“Good morning. Parcel for you, Miss Foster. I assume it s for you? It says S Foster. Is there any other S foster at this address?”Sadly, I ve lived alone for several years. My late husband suffered health issues, and passed away 5 years ago.Ah, that s difficult to get past, isn t it, Miss Foster? You know; Jenny and I, she s my 17 year old daughter; We lost my dear Caroline, 16 years ago. Jenny still has emotional issues with me moving on; you know? Going on dates, and such.Oh, Rudy, you re raising a daughter by yourself? You re a brave and devoted parent. Is she still in high school?Graduating this spring! She might be valedictorian, if she keeps up her grades. Heading off to state university next fall on a nursing scholarship. But that s when I hope to move on to what s next for me.Samantha smiled. In front of her stood a tall, handsome man, wearing a postman’s uniform. His hair was a dusty blonde color, shaved short at the sides, and his eyes shone the deep blue of the ocean at night. Beneath his clothes, his muscular build was evident, and as he spoke the warm smile on his lips and the light stubble decorating his sharp jawline made her heart flutter.Rudy handed her the letters, and the parcel. Reaching out, she took the parcel from his hands, her fingers brushing against his as she did, causing them both to laugh awkwardly.She looked up at him. “Oh, thank you, Rudy.Smiling, he tipped his hat and said; I better keep moving. Rain showers are expected every afternoon this week. Good day, Miss Foster. It s been really nice to visit."Same time tomorrow?”“Same time tomorrow. 8AM sharp. As long as I have a package to deliver, of course.”They both chuckled, and as he made his way back down the garden path, Samantha couldn’t help but sigh, as she watched him go.Closing the door, she made her way back into the kitchen, putting the parcel down on the table, and returning to her breakfast. Quickly finishing her toast, she left the water boiling to make her way upstairs to the bathroom.Letting her dressing gown fall around her feet, Samantha stepped into the shower and turned on the faucet. As the warm water began to cascade down her body, she let out a long, content sigh. Few things in life felt as good as a warm shower.Closing her eyes, she just stood there for a while, letting the water run down her naked body, across her shoulders, between her tits, down her thighs to her feet. Once again, she thought about the day ahead of her, and grimaced. God, she needed a break. She’d been working in the same office for almost five years now, with no promotion and barely a pay rise. It wasn’t a bad job by any means, but after a while the monotony had begun to wear on her soul. What she needed was an escape, something new and exciting to revitalize her.Perhaps a holiday, she thought, reaching for the strawberry and coconut shower gel to her right. Somewhere exciting, and exotic, like India or South America. She smiled to herself. Perhaps she could just go spontaneously, book a week off work and head to the airport, jump on the first flight she could and see where the universe took her. She laughed.As she began to lather herself with soap, her thoughts wandered once again, back to the handsome postman who came to her door every day. She thought about his smile, and the way his eyes sparkled when she asked if she’d see him again tomorrow. Her hands moved across her stomach, and she couldn’t help but think of the way his hands brushed against hers, the tenderness with which he handed her post to her.She felt her cheeks beginning to flush as her imagination took her further, to the tightness of his shirt, stretched across his muscular chest, and sharp cut of his jaw. Her hands began to drift further down, across her thighs as she began to picture him shirtless, his strong arms wrapped around her, his own hands on her body, caressing her, holding her tight against him as he kissed her neck from behind. She let out a soft gasp as her fingertips traced higher along her legs, getting closer and closer to her privates as her thoughts grew steamier by the second. Barely inches from herself, she imagined him pushing her down gently onto the bed, climbing on top of her from behind, his mouth on her ear…Suddenly, she snapped back to reality. She still had to be at work in half an hour. Finishing her shower, she turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel from the rack to dry herself as she quickly made her way to her bedroom to get dressed.Leaving the house, locking the door behind her, Samantha couldn’t help but feel a sense of melancholy at leaving her fantasy behind as well. Sitting in the morning traffic, her brain a mess of emotions, she tried not to think about it, and to focus on the day ahead instead. She’d always been a model employee, reliable and good at her work, but lately she’d been falling behind, and she couldn’t afford to have another unproductive day.But later, sat alone in her cubicle, she found it increasingly hard to focus on her work. Every time she tried to work on a report, she’s just end up staring at the screen, reading the same sentences, over and over, unable to think of anything but the man who came to her door every day.By the time her lunch break had rolled around, she’d barely done any work at all. Grabbing her coat, she made her way towards the staircase, heading out to the cafe down the road, where she usually got her sandwiches. Stepping through the door to her concrete office building and out onto the windy street, she turned her collar up to the cold. As she started to walk, she could feel the familiar melancholy feeling rising again. Here she was, on her way to the same sandwich shop she visited every day, to get the same thing for lunch, before heading back to the same building to do the same boring job. Every single day. She wanted to scream.She needed to escape, find something to break up the monotony of her life, even for just a moment. A string of failed relationships had seen her throw herself into her work, but now she couldn’t stand the idea of doing this for the rest of her life. She needed something to spice things up, something wild and spontaneous, to bring the spring back to her step. An idea quickly flashed across her mind, but she dismissed it as fantasy.But then, suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Why did it just have to be a fantasy? Why couldn’t she make it a reality? What was stopping her? She nodded to herself. She’d made up her mind. Nothing was going to change if she didn’t force it to. She needed to break out, live her life the way she wanted to. And she knew exactly what she was going to do first.Hurrying to the cafe, she made her order, choosing the first thing she saw on the menu. She gave the girl behind the counter her money, and made her way back to the office, eating as she went. She began to plan exactly what she was going to do, how best to put her plan into motion. By the time she arrived back at her cubicle her mind was set. She sat down, turning her computer back on, and went back to trying to work, her mind a whirlwind of excitement. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, shaking slightly as her heart pounded in anticipation.It didn’t take long to make up for the slow morning, and by the time the clock chimed five, Samantha was reasonably pleased with the work she’d accomplished. Grabbing her coat again, she made her way towards her boss’s office.As she rapped her knuckles against the door, she heard a gruff voice from within.“Yes, come in.”Opening the door, she saw the director of her company closing up his laptop and putting it away into his bag.“Ah, Samantha, how can I help?”“Hi, Mr. Bergstein, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know I might be a bit late to work tomorrow.”Her boss raised an eyebrow.“Tomorrow? You’ve left it awfully late to tell me. What’s going on?”Samantha felt her heart leap into her throat.“Something’s come up at home, and I just need to take care of it tomorrow morning. I’ll be in by ten, don’t worry.”Mr. Bergstein gave a slight chuckle.“Don’t worry, I won’t, as long as you’re happy to stay late to make up for it?”Samantha grinned. That was easier than expected.“Of course, sir! See you tomorrow!”“Goodbye, Miss Foster.”Closing the door to the office, Samantha felt giddy. Grabbing her coat and bag, she hurried outside to her car, throwing open the door and climbing inside. The ride home was a blur, she struggled to focus on the road as a mixture of emotions shot through her brain. By the time she got home she was positively ecstatic.That evening was one of the hardest of Samantha’s life. She sat on the couch, trying to focus on the tv, trying to ignore the anticipation hovering in her gut. Soon enough, it was time for bed, and as she climbed under the sheets, her satin nightgown smooth against her skin, she hoped she’d fall asleep quickly.After tossing and turning for close to an hour, she finally managed to overcome the butterflies in her stomach that kept her from sleep. The next morning, when her alarm clocked beeped out its familiar chime, it took no time at all for Samantha to wake up. Practically leaping out of bed, she made her way to the bathroom. It was earlier than usual, she wanted to give herself a bit of extra time just to make sure everything was perfect.Shedding her nightie, she climbed eagerly into the warm water of the shower, closing her eyes as her body relaxed under the steady stream. She didn’t let her mind wander today, her thoughts too focused on her plan. Grabbing the shower gel, she made sure to wash herself thoroughly, before returning the bottle to its shelf and reaching for her razor.By the time she’d finished, her legs were as smooth as silk, not too speak for her underarms or her privates. Turning off the water, she quickly dried herself with a towel from the rack, and headed back towards her bedroom.Sitting herself down, still wrapped in her towel, she began to fix her make-up. She wanted to look her best, after all. She tried to keep it modest, but sexy; mascara, eyeliner, and ruby red lipstick. She took a moment to admire herself in the mirror, before blowing a playful kiss to her reflection.Shedding the towel, she opened her closet. Time for the hardest choice. Rifling through her lingerie draw, she finally settled on an outfit; a black and red lace bra with matching panties, sheer black stockings, suspenders, and a black garter belt. She stood in front of the mirror, admiring herself. She looked stunning.Quickly making the bed, she made her way towards the stairs, just in time for the doorbell to ring, sending a wave of excitement and anticipation throughout her entire body. Trying to keep her nerves under control, Samantha made her way towards the door. Through the glass she could see Rudy’s silhouette, and her heart skipped a beat. This was it. Reaching out a quivering hand, she grasped the door handle, and opened it.“Good morning, Miss.. oh.”Samantha stood there for a moment, catching her breath as Rudy looked her up and down. The way his eyes moved across her body told her everything she needed to know about his reaction. The bulge quickly forming in his trousers did the rest. His eyes flicked up to meet hers.“Should I come in?”His words gave her all the courage she needed. Breaking into a mischievous smile Samantha reached out and grabbed his collar with both hands, pulling him excitedly into the entrance hall, slamming the door shut behind him. Now pressed tightly together between the narrow walls of the hallway, she pulled his face down to hers, launching the two of them into a passionate kiss.As their lips touched, Samantha felt her heart beating as loud as drum, amazed and excited by Rudy’s willingness. She let her mouth open, and he followed suit, allowing her tongue into his mouth as she deepened the kiss.Samantha was in heaven. She could barely believe this was really happening, that she had the man, the object of all her carnal desires, here in her arms.As they kissed, tongues dancing passionately, she felt Rudy’s hands slip from his bag to her waist, holding her bare sides firmly, drawing her closer to him, until their bodies were pressed tight, and she could feel his own fast heartbeat pounding in time with her own.Closing her eyes tight, she let go of his collar, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, cupping one side of his face as she did. The rough texture of his stubble made her shiver, and in response she felt his hands beginning to roam. Slowly at first, just his thumbs rubbing in rhythmic circles, teasing her, before beginning to move his whole hands up and down her sides, his firm grip sending shivers throughout her body. As he began tracing a sensual pattern across her bare skin, she broke the kiss to let out a short breathy gasp of arousal.Taking his opportunity, Rudy lent forward, his mouth next to her ear, and began to speak softly to her as his hands continued to explore her body. “How long have you been planning this?”Samantha could barely respond. “Only since yesterday. But I’ve wanted you for so much longer.”Rudy smiled. “I’ve wanted you too.”Samantha opened her eyes, her face inches from the handsome man holding her in his arms, the man she’d secretly pined over for months, and couldn’t stop herself kissing him once more.The two stood in the hallway, lips pressed tightly together, kissing passionately as Rudy’s hands moved across Samantha’s body, from her sides to her back, down to her ass. Soon, after what felt to her like a blissful eternity, Samantha grasped his collar once again, breaking the kiss to give him another mischievous smile.“Come on” she said, escaping from his embrace to drag him towards the stairs, up to her bedroom. They’d barely made it through the door before she had him on his back, sprawled out on her bed as she stood over him, body pink and flushed with arousal.Heart pounding, she took a step forward, gently dropping to her knees as she crawled towards him. Kneeling between his legs, she looked up at his face, also flushed, and began to slowly unzip his fly. She took her time, making sure to draw the act out for as long as possible, before gently tugging the heavy fabric down to his knees.Samantha looked back down, at the large bulge now facing her, covered only by the thin cotton of Rudy’s boxers. With trembling fingers, she worked her way along the waistline, making sure to watch his face as she did, reveling in the excited frustration he showed at her teasing.Finally, she pulled down the fabric, allowing his erection to spring forth. Samantha gasped. Barely inches from her face stood Rudy’s cock, hard and pulsing before her. It was larger than she’d expected, and as she stared she could feel the butterflies in her stomach fluttering harder than ever before.Slowly, trying hard to keep her nervous hands steady, Samantha curled her fingers around the shaft, being careful not to lose sight of Rudy’s face. The postman let out a low groan as he finally felt her soft hands on his cock.Filled with a new confidence, Samantha began to stroke. Starting slow, she soon found a comfortable rhythm, and before long had Rudy groaning as she worked his shaft with her hands. She stared up at him, admiring her skills. It had been a while since she’d had someone to use them on. Leaning forward, eyes still locked on his, she planted a soft kiss at his base, causing the cock in her hand to jump.Letting out a satisfied giggle, she began to work her mouth along the side of his shaft, kissing as she went, until she reached the head of his cock. For a moment she hovered, staring in amusement at the purple head before her, before opening her mouth and taking him inside.Immediately Rudy let out a moan, followed by a breathy exhale as Samantha adjusted to the size of his cock. Gently, she ran her tongue around the head, sensually exploring every inch with glee. His cock tasted divine, and Samantha couldn’t get enough. With care, she ran her tongue across the tip, savoring the salty sweet taste of precum while Rudy shivered beneath her. Closing her eyes, she decided it was time to go further.Keeping hold of the base with one hand, she began to bob her head, relaxing as she took the first few inches inside. It felt hot in her mouth, and she couldn’t help but feel her cheeks flushing with excitement. Slowly moving up and down, she tried to draw out each rise as much as she could, forcing him to wait for each new stroke, before deciding again, each time taking him almost half way into her mouth before coming back up again.Samantha felt amazing. Looking up at his face, eyes shut and mouth open in a mask of pleasure, she knew how much pleasure she was giving him with her mouth. She felt a surge of pride. Here she was, on her knees, going down on the man she’d lusted after for so long. And there he lay, moaning as she sucked him off. She’d never felt so sexy.Returning to the cock in her mouth, she began moving with renewed vigor, speeding up her strokes as she began to work the shaft with her hand as well. Moving in tandem with her fingers, she bobbed her mouth up and down vigorously, in turn making Rudy groan audibly with pleasu

Wednesday April 8, 2026

Kneeling chairs. Saddle seats. Active chairs. Exercise balls. You've probably been asked about all of them, and maybe you've given answers based on incomplete information.In this episode, we dig into what the research actually shows and more importantly, what it doesn't. We examine a critical flaw in one of the most-cited studies on alternative seating that changes how you should interpret the findings. We explore why "fixing the pelvis" doesn't automatically fix the neck.  Key insight: The ideal sitting posture isn't "upright" or "neutral." It's variable. And that reframe changes everything about how you approach seating recommendations.If you want to be the ergonomist who understands this category at a level your competitors don't, this episode is for you.Are you a healthcare professional curious about how office ergonomics assessments could fit into your services? I've got you covered with some valuable (and free!) resources at www.ergonomicshelp.com/free-training.

Welcome back to another episode of the In My Opinion Podcast, the home of edutainment.If you love reaction podcasts, freestyle moments, and storytelling with a comedic twist, hit subscribe, like, and share. Follow us on Spotify and Apple Podcasts so you never miss an episode and join the growing community.

Yes, a new episode and its lose canon from beginning to end, and we are not alone - we are joined by Podcast shareholder, Michael and Teni, the baddie for Christ. We catch up on what we've been up to, Kneeling being Un-African, being kind but not nice and we unlock a new slang for the 30 plus gang and more....Send us a DM on social media or a Fam Mail to us - thetalkativex@gmail.com or HERE(5:40) - Mental Check In (4:15) - Fine GIrls wey love Jesus / Baddies for Christ(8:45) -The Weekend has been…(13:43) - Behind the scenes(15:45) - I'm Kind, not Nice(17:30) - Working on Set(26:10) - I prayed for patience (33:40) - The Rice is the challenge (39:00) - You eat a crate of eggs a day??(42:40) - She wants to fight 1000 men (49:40) - Damn these gas prices (56:40) - More Real Estate Agents than Soldiers (58:18) - Air BnB Karma (1:02:49) - Kneeling to propose isn't African (1:12:50) - ML means what????

Most people treat half kneeling as a progression.In this episode, Bill Hartman and Chris Wicus explain why that approach falls apart, what half kneeling actually represents, and how structure determines whether someone can even access the position.If you've ever seen someone struggle in half kneeling or compensate immediately, this episode will show you why.

The post Kneeling Before the God of Heaven appeared first on Woodland Hills Community Church.

Friends of the Rosary,Today, on this Friday of the First Week of Lent, Christ the Lord (Matthew 5:20-26) commands us to be reconciled with one another.“If you recall that your brother has anything against you, go first and be reconciled.”To reconcile with our brothers, we first need to forgive.A lack of forgiveness in us blocks the flow of divine grace.We resist forgiving because we feel that some injustice has done to us, and we resent it.But what did we do for the innocent Jesus? He was treated unjustly and suffered the ultimate injustice.Kneeling before the cross and seeing the suffering servant who forgave his persecutors will greatly help us to understand the mystery of forgiveness.Ave Maria!Come, Holy Spirit, come!To Jesus through Mary!Here I am, Lord; I come to do your will.Please give us the grace to respond with joy!+ Mikel Amigot w/ María Blanca | RosaryNetwork.com, New YorkEnhance your faith with the new Holy Rosary University app:Apple iOS | New! Android Google Play• February 27, 2026, Today's Rosary on YouTube | Daily broadcast at 7:30 pm ET

Kneeling at the altar in humility defeats our enemiesClapping your hands in agreement to declarationShoes out your devilsLifting your hands in surrender wins battlesShouting praise kills your flesh Welcome to Sunday Service Wish you were here! Newsong, Colorado Springs (starts at 10:00am) Subscribe to text updates. Text the words text alert to 94000 Subscribe to emails (bottom of page on newsongcs.com) Listen to podcasts. Keywords newsong foursquare Watch services on Youtube. Keyword newsongcs Follow us on Facebook, Instagram & TikTok keyword newsongcs 3 ways to give to Missions, Disaster Relief, Tithes, or Offerings 1.. newsongcs/com/give 2. Text Giving - text the word EASY to 94000 3. Mail - P.O. Box 75818 • C.S., CO 80970

Donald Trump claims he will not pursue military action against Greenland even as his Gestapo continues its assault on American citizens in Minneapolis. Steve Schmidt exposes the personal motives driving Trump’s threats and warns that dismissing them now invites far greater danger. Today's Merch: Pedo Protector Teehttps://thewarningwithsteveschmidt.com/products/pedo-protector-tee SUBSCRIBE for more and follow me here:Substack: https://steveschmidt.substack.com/subscribeStore: https://thewarningwithsteveschmidt.com/Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/thewarningses.bsky.socialFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/SteveSchmidtSES/TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@thewarningsesInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/thewarningses/X: https://x.com/SteveSchmidtSESSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

An in-depth study of 1 Chronicles 14-15.

Homily for the Epiphany of the Lord

A Holiday Haunting: Part 1 Jack returns home and reconnects with his old ghost crush. Based on a post by zeon 67. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Oh. Shit! She's back. Jack had to drop everything and run to the living room; he needed to see her again. His coffee mug shattering against the kitchen floor meant little to him. Jack followed her out of the room, stumbling into the den and crashed into a chair. Any pain that he felt was instantly ignored; he just had to see her face. But she phased through the bookcase, leaving him disappointed. Ten years. It had been ten years since Jack had last seen Erin. Just a brief peek of her ghostly form, and Jack was a teenager again. The first time he met Erin, he was thirteen. Jack's parents had dragged the family from Boston to live in a stock horror mansion outside Portland, Maine. He hated everything about it, feeling depressed, isolated from his old life. Then he saw her. She appeared late one night as Jack attempted to fall asleep. His eyes widened as this woman floated in front of his bed. She wore a bulky, dark shirt with a lighter collar, a long apron over a skirt that reached her ankles and sensible shoes. Pale skin and white hair held up in a professional bun. She stood translucent and hovered a foot off the ground. Jack was freaking out, shaking under the covers and trying to release a scream. But watching her body float, her head crooked to the side with a curious smile, Jack felt an eerie calm. He sat up in his bed and examined her further. She was beautiful, an oval face with dimples, full lips, and wide, expressive eyes. He tried to guess her age, but it was impossible due to her intangible form. "Hello;" Jack said. His voice was hoarse and unconvincing. She smiled again at him before disappearing. "Fuck." Jack immediately fainted. He awoke late in the morning, still shaken. Jack ran down to his family, yelling at them in the kitchen at what he had just seen. His parents responded with blank looks. His sisters both snickered, cracking jokes about Jack's nighttime activities, and how it must have affected his brain. But as he continued, the jokes stopped, and soon Jack had weekly sessions with Dr. Miller. It was like a month until he saw her again. Jack was alone in the house and found Erin standing in between his bed. He screamed this time, but Erin just replied with a smile. She looked amused by his actions. She disappeared, and Jack had to wait another month before catching her on the stairs. But he had a plan, knowing what he should do the next time he ever saw her again. "Jack!" His mother yelled from upstairs. "What Happened!" Jack rolled his eyes. "It's nothing. I dropped my mug." He shouted back up, praying that his parents won't come down. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and Jack had returned home early, hoping just to relax and forget about Laura. Retreating into the kitchen, he ignored the mess he'd left behind. He wasn't that heartbroken about the end of the relationship; he just needed to get out of Boston for a while. Jack filled up a glass of water and took a couple of gulps, trying to steady himself. The plan was to drink, eat loads and watch football. But now, Jack was instantly consumed by the need to see Erin again.   Erin's Further Revelations. Jack rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He guessed that it was probably two in the morning. He should be asleep, but restless energy had overpowered him, just like when he was a teenager. The weeks after her second appearance, Jack woke early in the morning and saw Erin staring out of the window. She turned to him and then disappeared. Every couple of weeks, he would see Erin around the house, mostly in his room, but always when he was alone. Whenever Jack saw her, Erin would disappear, fade into nothing in front of him. After a dozen or so appearances, Erin and Jack got used to seeing each other over the year. He would see her, and they would exchange brief smiles before would Erin dissolve. Jack got used to finding her in random places, occasionally pretending that she was never there when Erin materialized during family dinners. Though she mostly appeared in his room. He was also sure that he was the only one who could see her, which developed a special bond as he aged. It was just a shame they couldn't talk to each other. Whatever break in the dimensions that brought her here didn't allow them to speak or hear one another. Over the years, Jack and Erin relied on non-verbal communication, making up their own sign language while also writing out words on paper. Jack's parents were weirded out one Christmas when he asked for a dry erase board. He would come home from school and rush to his room, wondering if that day was the day she would appear. If he found her there, Jack would tell her about his day, what had changed since they last spoke, and random thoughts in his head. She would eagerly listen to him and try to respond in her own way. She had become this nonjudgmental friend that he could bounce off from as he dealt with his new surroundings and the horror of puberty. It took two years for Jack to know Erin's name. They were together in his room; the house was empty apart from them. It felt that Erin had trained herself to emerge only when he was alone. Jack sat on his bed, talking to Erin. For the hundredth time, he had asked her name. She led him to the bathroom and pointed to the faucet. Running the hot water, he saw Erin smile as the bathroom mirror started to fog up. She clenched her jaw and pressed a finger up against the glass. Erin's face strained as her form became clearer as she wrote 'ERIN' in the mirror. The smile on Jack's face then quickly vanished as Erin faded into nothing. He wouldn't see her for another two months. Jack rolled onto his stomach, feeling his cock throb against his leg. Without any prompting, his mind cast back when he turned 18, and Erin gave him a special present. It was one of the few times that Erin appeared, when there were other people in the house. He was half-asleep, playing on his PlayStation when she materialized. Jack shuffled back and collapsed on the bed. There was something off about her that night, her body was trembling, and her face was stone-like. With great energy, her lips curled into a smile, and there was a flash. The clothing that Jack had always seen her in the last five years had disappeared into nothing, leaving her naked. A loud guttural groan escaped Jack's mouth; it was the first time he had seen a naked woman. Her body was slim, graceful, like a dancer, and perfect. He stared at her small but firm tits; Jack assumed they were B-cups and wished he could have his hands over them. Her skin then began to change, turning from a clear white to a fair skin tone. He noticed rusty-colored freckles dot around her angular nose framed by long reddish-brown hair. Then two bright green eyes stared back, overwhelming him. "Fuck," Jack whispered. His mouth dry, his stomach twisted into knots, and all the blood drained into his penis. He was in love or lust; it was all the same back then to him. Jack rolled off the bed and waddled to the bathroom, holding out the used tissue as far away from him as if it was toxic. He was only exposed to her for a few moments before she vanished. Still, Erin's naked form had been seared entirely in his brain, giving him special comfort during lonely nights. Dumping the balled-up tissue in the toilet, he started washing his hands. The general feeling of self-disgust hit him, but this time with more power. He was fantasizing about a long-dead woman. It's not right. He crawled back into his bed and reached for his laptop. Opening the browser, Jack thought to himself for a moment before going to incognito mode. He might need some privacy should anyone have a look at his search history. In the search bar, he typed 'Medium Psychic, And Portland, Maine.'   Ophelia's Services. The doorbell rang, and Jack quickly set down his coffee and rushed to the door. He briefly checked himself out in the hallway mirror; he looked normal. Jack wanted to make sure that he pulled that off, a navy oxford shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers, that all screamed normal to him. Jack then mentally thought about what he was going to say to the medium. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience in this. He could tell her about Erin, maybe use her name. Also, he could say where she usually appears and does. Probably shouldn't mention Erin getting naked as some kind of birthday present. He then wished that the medium agreed a later time just so he could rationalize having a drink. During Thanksgiving dinner, Jack told his family that he wanted to stay in Maine for a while, maybe until after Christmas. He had exaggerated the effects that the disintegration of his relationship with Laura had on him. It was a blatant lie; his parents knew it, his sisters didn't care, but no one really questioned it. He prayed that none of them would ever find out that he booked a medium. This Ophelia from Portland, Jack didn't know what he wanted from her. From movies, he had been told that ghosts that roam around usually have unfinished business. If somehow the medium was legit and could talk to Erin, he didn't know if it would be best if Erin moved on. Opening the door, a young woman stood, waiting impatiently. Their eyes met, and Jack was stunned to find his assumptions shattered. He was expecting a woman in her fifties, heavy makeup, and lots of necklaces, someone like that Long Island psychic. Instead, a woman stood in front of him who looked like she was in her twenties, with blonde wavy hair and a curvy figure. She gave an impression of an Instagram influencer with tight high-waisted jeans, a simple tee, and a suede jacket. "Jack Taylor?" she said, pinching her mouth shut and curving her lips upward. "Ophelia?" Jack arched an eyebrow without thinking. She nodded and walked past him, taking in the house. A Victorian-style mansion, built in the 1860s, with five bedrooms, a parlor, a giant fireplace that could fit a body, a near-constant fog-covered backyard, and a bloody-red painted door. She looked unimpressed. Ophelia raised her hands and fluttered her fingers, doing a sort of jazz hands while slowly spinning. Jack had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling, but she's young and hot. Was this a con? Did he want it to be one? "Do you want anything to drink?" Jack asked, trying to get a read of the situation. He then glanced at the clock. His parents should be home in a couple of hours; he had time. "I'm fine." She replied, flashing another smile. "Should we deal with the money first?" Taken back, he slowly reached for his wallet and pulled $150 in cash. He looked at the money and felt grateful that he would only pay an extra fifty if the reading exceeded the hour. Handing her the folded bills, Jack felt a breeze. Then the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Erin. He had been sensing her a lot, recently. "Nice house. Really Stephen King-like." Ophelia gave another forced smile. "Can you give me a tour?" Jack nodded and he took her to the home office, explaining what he had seen the other day. Ophelia took a quick photo and hummed; she felt nothing. Jack then led her around the house, describing where he had seen Erin and what she would do. Ophelia stayed quiet for most of the tour, her phone in her hand, occasionally checking it. He then explained his relationship with Erin. Jack recounted every meeting he had with her, including how he found out her name. When Jack said that he was the only one in the house that had ever seen Erin, he noticed a quick change in Ophelia's face. She definitely assumed that he's psychotic. As they climbed the stairs to Jack's bedroom, Ophelia suddenly became talkative. She put away her phone and asked several questions at rapid-fire speed. "So, who previously owned the house before you moved in? Erin, do you know her last name? Where she's from? Was she born here? Has anyone called Erin lived in the house before?" Jack knew nothing. He had known Erin for ten years and yet knew nothing about her. The house must have been her home or where she worked. He now knew what he had to find out, but Jack had no idea how he would research such things. Speak to a local historian, maybe? He should go to the library tomorrow. They entered his bedroom, a familiar feeling of cold hit his body again. Jack eyed the psychic; there was no change in her body language. Maybe she's a fake. Ophelia wandered around the room, doing the jazz hands again and calling Erin's name. His eyes narrowed on her chest, then to her slim waist, and then to her tight ass; she looked cute. It had been some time since Jack had anything close to sex. It ended with Laura over two months ago, and since then, a brunette ghost was the only thing he had to female company. Ophelia reached in her jeans and pulled out a velvet pouch. Opening it up, a nub of chalk fell into her palm. She then bent down and drew a circle just in front of Jack's bed. The circle was about three feet wide. Ophelia then drew four smaller circles inside the ring, north, east, south, and west. Jack watched her place crystals in each circle, wondering if he would be able to clean the chalk off his floor. "What are you going to do?" Jack asked, trying not to stare at the medium's ass. "I am going to summon Erin. I am going to see if we can talk to her and find out her unfinished business." "What would her unfinished business be?" "It could be anything," Ophelia said, looking around the room. "Some want revenge, especially if they were like murdered. Others are looking for missing rings, lockets or whatever. With my help, Erin could be able to move on." Jack nodded. She was right. It was fun seeing her again, he missed talking to her, but there had to be some conclusion for Erin. After Christmas, he will be back in Boston. Maybe it was best that she moved on, got closure from this world. The psychic then took off her boots and stood inside the circle. Kneeling, Ophelia raised her arms, praying to the ceiling. "Erin; Erin; Erin;" she chanted, raising her head, "Speak to us. Speak; Erin, come to us; come to Jack and me." She sang Erin's name a couple of times with no change in her composure. "Yes, Erin, I hear you. How can we help you?" Ophelia said, lacking any emotion. "How can we help you move?" Ophelia then went silent and very still. Her back was arched, and her head pointed up. Leaning in, Jack realized that her chest wasn't moving anymore; was she even breathing? Beads of sweat flowed down her face as the rest of the body began to tremble. Something was wrong. Ophelia then shuddered and Jack could see the color disappear from her face. She then slowly stood up. Looking at Jack, she gave him a warm smile. "Jack!" Ophelia then said, emphasizing the wrong parts of the name. Jack walked around and stood in front of her. Her body language was weird, not so closed off as it was before. Her eyes then focused on her left hand, marveling how far it was extended. The tips of her fingers then ran down Jack's chest. The broad grin on Ophelia's face got even wider as she felt him up. "It is me, Jack; Erin." Ophelia grinned. "No." Jack shook his head and took a step back. This had to be some weird psychic con. Was Ophelia going to sleep with him? "Ophelia, I think you should get out." "I am Erin." She closed the distance and reached for his hand. "I can prove it. You told me everything and I listened. Once you were overly excited in your classroom by a teacher. You frequently enjoy lobster rolls. And once I removed my clothing for you on your birthday." Jack whimpered, trying to collect his thoughts. Before he called Ophelia, he had read up on cold reading, but she knew things that he had never shared with anyone. Jack hit his bed frame and toppled over, hitting the mattress. He tried to compute what was going on, justify Ophelia's insider knowledge of him. But then the blonde climbed up on the bed, her body floating as she straddled him. This was real. "Jack; I missed you." Ophelia or Erin then leaned in and kissed him forcibly. Quickly sneaking her tongue into his mouth while she rubbed her body against his. Moaning as his tongue dueled, Jack was lost in a world of teenage lust. He had dreams about this, spent countless hours awkwardly pleasuring himself to the fantasy of having sex with Erin. But as he opened his eyes and remembered the blonde hair that flowed above him, this wasn't Erin. Maybe in spirit, but not in body. He pulled his face away and sighed. "Erin; no." Jack said, trying to push the possessed medium off him. "Not like this." "What?" Ophelia screamed. She shot back up and glared at him. Her eyes became demonic and bloodshot. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, breaking his skin. She began to shake and wail. "No; No; No!" "Erin; Erin!" Jack tried to get her attention. He reached up and gently touched her face. "I just want to talk to you. Please leave Ophelia." Ophelia's face contorted into a smile. Jack could tell that something was pushing back against Erin. Maybe it was the medium's spirit wanting to regain her body. She thrashed around on top of him, going from sweating to shivering to back to sweating again. Jack snuck out of her convulsing frame and watched with concern. The medium then slammed into the mattress, bounced high up in the air, and then back down. Jack watched her breathe slowly and rolled onto her back. She looked confused and tired. "What the fuck happened?" Ophelia asked as she sat up, her frazzled hair covering her face.   Researching the Franklins. Jack ended the call and rubbed his eyes. The pains of working remotely, struggling to stay productive while also being forced to over communicate just so he won't be called a slacker was too much. The only good thing about his job was that he could move back to Maine and still collect a paycheck. But yet, he hated taking calls from his bosses when it's technically his day off. He knew he shouldn't be cursing his luck. Last night, his parents gave him some excellent news. They needed to go to Springfield and help out Jack's aunt with something. Jack wasn't listening, just focusing on the part when his mom said that they will not be returning until Christmas Eve. Yes, it meant that Jack would have to prepare the house for the holidays, put up the tree, buy the food and sort out the presents. But it also meant that he would be alone in the house; he could plan and try to talk to Erin. Maybe even help her. Finishing his latte, Jack looked up the address for the library and the closing time. Since Ophelia's possession, Jack hadn't sensed Erin's presence. It was worrying. He tried to focus on absorbing as much information about the house. Jack learned that the house was built in 1860 for the Franklins. For more information, he had to drive into the city. As he walked into the library, his heart was thumping in his chest and sweat coated his forehead. Why was he so nervous? Yeah, he had created this pubescent fantasy, and Jack wasn't sure how he would react if that was cracked. What if Erin was an awful person; her death could have been just, and that she was using him. But he still had to find out. Jack sat down at the computer and entered his address and the Franklins in the search bar. Skimming through the records, he got a brief understanding of the family that built his home. Jedidiah Franklin was a local lender who had moved from Boston to Maine due to some unpleasantness. He was followed by his wife, Alice and their two children, Robert and Emma. Franklins lived a dull and typical life and died in the 1900s. "Nothing about Erin," He went through local newspapers and again found nothing odd. Going through the search results, Jack quickly realized that he had been wasting his time, and it was pointless. By the time he reached the fourteenth page, he was about to leave. But instead, he clicked on the link about a stagecoach accident involving the Franklins. Jedidiah, Alice, Robert, and their maid were returning late one night. Their stagecoach collided with a rock, and the maid was thrown out. She died instantly. The article gave the maid's name as Erin O'Ceallachain. Letting out a loud sigh and rubbing his face, Jack then searched for Erin O'Ceallachain. There was little about her. A short obituary that stated she was born somewhere in Ireland and died in 1898. She had been a maid for the Franklins for close to a year. There were no descriptions of her or any clues of her past. Jack leaned back and stared at the screen. It could be her. He had checked; there were no other women called Erin that lived in the house. This could be her. But, if she died on the road, then why was she haunting his home. The loud sound of his phone vibrating against the desk pulled him out of his thoughts. Jack saw that he got a text from Ophelia. She really wanted to speak to him. Ignoring her, Jack continued his deep-dive on the Franklins, trying to find anything. Even a morsel of information about the family would help. After another hour of research, he ended up on the website of an antique bookstore in Bangor. They had Alice Franklin's diary and it was for sale.   Tomes of Inquiry. Two days later, Jack sat in the home office and stared at the five-hundred-dollar book. It was too much; he should have tried to haggle them down. Jack wasn't even sure if the diary would be useful; it could be another Alice Franklin or just a list of mundane observations. Jack finished another beer and opened the diary. His hands were trembling with every turn of the page. Either he was nervous or just drunk, he couldn't tell. The pages were filled with fine late-twentieth-century cursive writing that was hard to read. Jack slowly read out each entry, making out every second word. The diary covered the time Erin had already started working for the Franklins to her death if it was the same Alice Franklin. He skimmed through the journal until stopping at an entry made on January 28th, 1898, where Alice mentioned hiring a new maid called Erin. March Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  I saw Robert engaged young Erin in the library. How I wish we do not have the same story as in Boston. August Fourteenth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  That green-eyed temptress was with my son again. The Roman whore has plans for him. Jedidiah sees nothing. He pushes his son. Then reacts in fury when Robert is in strife. November Sixth, Eighteen Ninety-eight;  Constable Standish and his ghastly son shared supper with us. He has eyes for Emma. A boor. My darling daughter would never fall that low. Robert is forlorn. I see his glances at young Erin. When I call for her, the freckled-face jezebel smiles innocently. Jedidiah will end her services in the new year. Jack paused from reading, and tried to make sense. Green eyes. Freckles. It had to be Erin. Jack skipped ahead a couple of weeks, getting closer to the time when Erin died. December Twentieth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  The Irish whore created a scene. Late in the evening, we found her under the influence. She screamed for Robert. She said she is with child. He is the father. She wants to be wed. That boy has ruined us. December Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  A clear-headed Erin spoke to us in the morning. She lies that she is not with child. The Catholic loves Robert, or it seems. Jedidiah and I agree to end her service. We will send her to Bangor tonight. It is clear to us. December Twenty-ninth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  My heart is gone. Losing Emma is a great blow. They are to be wed in the next Spring. My son now lives in Boston. I pray his temperament is strong. Erin is gone, a life stopped by a stagecoach. Now I have an empty house. A lost daughter and a dead maid. Jack closed the diary and ran upstairs to his bedroom to grab his notepad, then came back down again. He needs to do more cardio. The two flights of stairs had destroyed him. He knew he had seen the name Standish somewhere. There at the family tree. After Erin's death, Emma married Nathanial Standish, son of the town constable. It made sense now; the Franklins murdered Erin and used the constable to help make it look like an accident. In return, they married Emma to his son to keep his silence. He knew what happened to Erin, but Jack wondered how he could help her. But; like what Ophelia said before, does he want her to move on to the next stage. It probably would be best for everyone. But if he could talk to her and discover her unfinished business, how could he help her. What if it meant getting vengeance on those that murdered her? What if it was on Franklin's living ancestors? The sound of the doorbell ringing jolted Jack from the thoughts of homicidal spirits. He checked his phone; it was nearly ten. Finishing another beer, Jack left the den and shuffled to the front door. He prayed that it wasn't his parents, that their stay in Massachusetts ended early, and now they wanted to talk about his future. "Ophelia?" Jack asked, opening the door.   Ophelia's Admissions. She stood there in the light rain, looking like another person. Far removed from the bored, unimpressed medium he saw days ago. She looked nervous, worried, but still attractive to Jack's eyes. The skirt she had on gave him a good view of her slender legs and made Jack think. Again, it had been two months since he last had sex, and he was now feeling it. "Hi," she said, barely audible. "Can I come in?" Jack nodded and let her pass. He tried not to look at her like that anymore; he needed to stay focused on Erin. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you. I'm a fake-ish. I go to people's houses and pretend that I feel something. I do a bit of cold reading, call out the spirits and then lie that they're talking back to me." Ophelia admitted. She paced back and forth as she spoke, nervousness flowing out from her. "Oh," Jack said, looking away. He didn't know what else he was supposed to say. "So, what are you doing here?" "Also, my name isn't Ophelia, it's Lucy. I felt Ophelia looked better on the website. Make it look real." She nervously smiled. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because;" she stepped forward, "what happened that day was real. I felt it, I really did." "Yeah?" Jack noticed that she was holding on to his hand like she was pleading with him. "I used to hear voices. I thought I was going crazy, but then I found out that I was hearing the dead; and I could talk to them. But I don't know, a mix of vodka, and my own cynicism; the spirits don't want to talk to me anymore. I want to feel like that again. I want to help you." Jack paused. Again, not knowing what to say. He felt that she could still be conning him, that she was going to ask for money. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure that Ophelia or Lucy was genuinely possessed by Erin. Then again, they could have had sex, which would be a weird move to pull when conning someone. Jack needed alcohol. "Do you want anything to drink?" He asked. "Please." Lucy nodded. Jack returned from the kitchen with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. It was the only alcoholic thing left in the house. After completely filling up both glasses on Lucy's request, he grabbed the diary and his notes, and they settled in the living room. He observed the psychic read the journal, his thoughts becoming more and more concerned about her looks. She had removed her thick coat, revealing a slinky tank top that gave him a glimpse of her bra. "So, you think Erin had sex with Robert Franklin; may have gotten pregnant; and the Franklins decide to murder her, to prevent a scandal?" "Yeah," Jack said, leaning in. There were both sitting on the sofa, awkwardly close together. "I don't know much or really anything about hauntings. But I only see Erin here. She must have been murdered here, and they faked the accident." "Erin being an Irish maid, the family are rich, and you got a friendly cop who is willing to help, if he gets a favor, that's a straightforward cover-up." Lucy smiled, patting Jack on the knee. "There is something we can do. I know people in the psychic and magic world. There's one girl who told me about this ritual-like thing. It's like a s ance on steroids. We can make her appear and we can talk to her. Then we can help her." "What's the catch? There is always a catch." "Not really. The s ance is a bit complicated and there is a shopping list, also it will be for a couple of hours only." "Sounds like a plan," Jack replied, raising a glass. They quickly finished their wine and poured some more.  Lucy asked him about his family and if they ever believed him. He told her about Dr. Miller, and how his dad would make the occasional jokes. When asked about their absence, Jack explained, and without realizing, underscoring that he had the whole house to himself. Jack then turned the attention on her, quizzing Lucy what happened when she first talked to a ghost; and what was the weirdest shit she had seen. As Lucy went through her backstory. Jack started picking up subtle clues about her. She was touching him more and getting close as she talked about hearing spirits when she turned thirteen. He tried to guess if Lucy was flirting with him, or was this some alcohol-induced delusion. After she finished her story about being asked to communicate with a woman's dead cat, they realized they were out of wine. Jack asked and quickly got another bottle on Lucy's insistence. "So, about you and Erin." She said, playing with the stem of her wine glass. "You were the only one to see her?  What relationship did you guys have?" "Like a friendship. Growing up; Erin was like my confidante. I would talk to her about every insane thought that was going through my head that day. I didn't know if she could hear me or not. It was comforting. I miss it. Guess that's why I'm here." "That's sweet." Lucy ran her hand down his thigh. "Sometimes I have some weird creeps that want to speak to their old teenage crushes, like teachers or neighbors that they used to jerk off to. It's nice to have a guy who just wants to reconnect to an old friend." Jack groaned. Looking at Lucy, his mind was made up, and he was sure that she was flirting with him. He should tell her the truth and see how she takes it. "I should tell you this. I have seen her naked." "Really?" Her eyes widened. "Yeah. On my 18th birthday, Erin appeared in my room and then flash, she's nude. She stood there for like a couple of seconds and poof, gone." Jack smiled, "That was the last time I saw her." "That's some present. Making me jealous." Lucy whispered, holding her gaze. "Really?" Jack said, leaning in. Lucy looked up at him, her tongue running over her pink lips. She craned her head forward and pressed her lips against his, her hand on the back of Jack's head, pulling him into her. Both were still holding their wine glasses, and Jack awkwardly pushed his mouth down on hers. Lucy's tongue shot out of her mouth and instantly snaked into his. They both softly moaned as Jack guided her body down on the sofa, nearly spilling her wine. She then suddenly stopped her tongue movements and pulled back. "Hold on, Ghostbuster." Lucy smirked, as she pushed Jack back upright. Taking the wine from his hands, she placed both glasses on the coffee table. With a shit-eating grin, Lucy grabbed Jack and resumed her mouth attack. Jack ran his hands down from her sides to her ass, pulling her on top of his lap. Lucy reached down and pressed her palm on Jack's bulge. She moaned into his mouth, sounding like she appreciated his size. She pulled her lips away, her attention now just all on his cock. Lucy fondled the turgid shaft through his pants, prompting it to throb in her hands. Jack leaned his head and slowly kissed down her neck, feeling her tremble in his arms. "Yes," Lucy said, closing her eyes and grinning. With a single-minded focus, Lucy unbuckled his jeans and yanked out his erect cock. Jack grunted, stunned by the blonde's eagerness. No other girl he had ever been with, was like this. They kept eye-contact as Lucy softly grasped his warm rigid shaft. Their lips met again while she stroked his cock, smearing her fingers with his oozing precum. While their tongues dueled again, Lucy's hand became a blur over his cock. They broke their kiss again, and Lucy lowered her head down, kissing his deep reddened tip. He watched in unbearable anticipation as she opened her mouth, but then instead of engulfing him, Lucy looked up and smirked. "Yeah, I'm bit of a slut," she said. "Just a bit? Jack grinned. "Okay, I'm a deeply deprived slut." She chuckled. Her very pink tongue then slid out of her mouth, and she licked up of his oozing fluid. Lucy took a moment to taste his precum, loudly humming and smiling at him. She then parted her lips and engulfed the bulging head in her wet mouth, firmly constricting, once his glans ridge was encased. Her tongue rubbed his frenulum, just under the tip.  She bobbed her head up and down, her firm round tits jiggling freely on his thighs, as she mouth-fucked him. "Oh; Fuck!" Jack grunted, taken by surprise by Lucy swallowing on more and more of his petrified cock. Lucy looked up and grinned at him again, before opening her mouth and engulfing him again. Her bright pink glossy lips slid up and down his shaft as she fucked him with her mouth. Then she sank til her nose rubbed his curly pubes, her teasing tongue gently caressed him as her throat muscle massaged his shaft, pushing his cock deeper. She hummed while she swallowed him, the hum of sucking filling the room. Her hands tightened their grip around his thighs as Lucy furiously pumped her lips up and down his cock. Once in a while, she would slowly pull his cock out, ever-so-gently running her teeth on the underside of his shaft while leaving huge trails of spit behind, then swallowing him again. It drove Jack mad in sexual bliss. She then wrapped her fingers firm around his meat again, lashing her tongue against his swollen cockhead, slurping up all the saliva and precum. Jack's balls were now sending messages to his brain, telling him that within seconds, he was going to cum; soon in big, bold letters. He also felt cold suddenly, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing. He ignored that and watched the medium jerk him off, kissing his head as she worked the shaft of his phallus. Lucy stuck her tongue out and swirled it around his cock tip. But then he saw a figure near the TV. "Erin?" He said. She was right there and looked like she was in tears. A mix of fear and guilt hit him, destroying his previous horniness. But he still came, shooting thick loads into Lucy's face, hitting her in the lips and cheeks. She released her grip, but more jets of cum landed on her face. She raised her head and looked at Jack, the muscles in her face tensed, and her jaw clenched. "What the fuck, man? Give me some warning!" "Erin?" Jack said again, staring at the spirit. "Erin?" Lucy repeated. Her expression turned into an instant glare. But she followed Jack's gaze and looked over her shoulder, finding that they weren't alone. "Oh Fuck!" "No!" Erin screamed, deafening their ears. Her face was scrunched up in murderous intent. She lurched forward, and a force of wind cleared the table, sweeping the diary and notebooks off the surface. Jack and Lucy were pushed back by Erin's invisible energy, hitting the back of the couch. Erin raised her hands, maybe to strike, but felt her power evaporating. She looked at Jack, tears rolling down her cheeks, and then disappeared. Holiday Trimmings. Jack opened his eyes minutes before the alarm. It was Saturday and around ten. He sat up in his bed, his head still woozy from last night's drinking. He couldn't sleep and figured whiskey would knock him out. Also, he wanted to block out Erin's screams from replaying in his head. That face. Her expression dripping with anger and hurt. How Erin tried to attack them. He needed to say sorry. Erin probably won't believe him, Jack knew. But he had to try. Then there was what Lucy said, finding comfort so Erin can crossover. He hated thinking about that but realized that he couldn't be selfish. It wasn't about him. Jack's phone buzzed; he had gotten a text from his dad. It just said, 'Tree!'. Jack groaned, but he slipped out of the covers and took a shower. After getting dressed, Jack forced himself to eat something. He couldn't feel her. Usually, in December, he would see Erin more often than the rest of the year. Knowing that it was coming up to the day when she died, he expected to feel her. Two hours later, and overspending on a fir tree, Jack pulled into the driveway, confused. Lucy sat in front of the door, waiting for him. With a scared look on her face, she raised her hand and gave him a forced smile. Was she looking for him or for Erin? Jack climbed out of the car and slowly approached the young blonde. He never thought how she would take it, seeing Erin like that. After Erin faded away, Jack sat in silence while Lucy grabbed her stuff and bolted out of the house. "Hey," Jack muttered. "So, I have been waiting here for an hour. I walked away twice. But I really need to know. What the fuck did I see last night?" "I don't know," Jack said, looking away from Lucy's glare. "I've never seen her like this. She has never been this scary before. "Until;" "Until what?" Lucy stood up and got close. "You need to tell me." Jack sighed. "When you first came to the house, you tried to talk to her, right? Do you remember what happened next?" Lucy shook her head. "She took over your body and err; kissed me. We nearly had sex. But I stopped her. Telling her that it was wrong," Jack said, " to use your body like that." He quickly added. "Erin started shaking and going all Linda Blair. Then you woke up." "She gets rejected. Then she sees us on the couch, doing you-know-what, and takes it like a cheated-on girlfriend. That explains all the throwing." "I never knew she could do that." Jack smiled. "Can I ask you something?" Lucy stared into Jack's eyes. Jack shrugged and nodded his head. "What are you two? Is she your ghost girlfriend? Are you in love with her? What? Does she know what you are to her?" "Like I said, yesterday. Erin is my friend. Maybe there's more. I don't know, because I don't put labels on relationships with ghosts. But if I can help her, I will help her. Are you still in?" "Fuck it, yeah." He looked around, seeing his neighbors staring at him and Lucy. "Let's go inside. Can you give me a hand?" He asked, pointing to the tree. Lucy groaned but nodded her head. After undoing the bungee cords and dragging the tree off the car roof, the two of them awkwardly hauled the ten-foot fir inside the house. With Lucy leading, they pulled the tree into the living room, where the blonde suddenly stopped.  Jack was about to open his mouth, but he saw Erin standing in the middle of the room, and he went quiet. Erin raised her hands to her face, covering her eyes. Her breathing short and quick. She was freaking out. Erin then dropped her hands, clenching her fists as she glared at them. Her form floated to them, but unlike last night, there was no rush of force. Erin's face dropped, shifting into a scared expression. Dropping the tree, Lucy ran to her. She raised her hands up with open palms facing the spirit. "I am sorry. I am here to help you." She said, out loud. Erin didn't react. "He wants to help you. He wants to talk to you." Lucy pleaded with the spirit. Again, Erin stayed motionless. Lucy paused and looked over her shoulder at Jack. She mouthed 'trust me' at him and turned back to the ghost. "You can take over my body and speak to him. He would love that." Erin frowned, then faded into nothing. Jack walked past Lucy, trying to sense Erin's presence. There was nothing. He glanced at the medium; she had gone stiff, just like before. Jack's eyes bulged, realizing what was happening. But it was different. There was no sweat, no change in color, or fear on her face. Lucy just let out a small pleasurable moan. "Erin?" "What?" The woman barked back at him. "I just want to tell you that I am sorry. It was a mistake." "Liar. I saw you," Erin said, with no emotion in a unique tone. "Ye enjoyed every moment with the bonnie lass. I do not wish to intrude in your relationship with that adventuress." Her voice slowly morphed from Lucy's Mid-Atlantic accent to a faint Irish brogue. Jack sighed; he knew he had to deal with this. A simple apology wasn't going to be enough. "I'm so sorry about that. It's just that for a long time, there was this small voice in the back of my mind, saying that you weren't real and I was having a psychotic episode. When you saw me and Lucy, it was just an extension of that. I doubt it will ever happen again. But I did all this research so I can help you." "Help me?" "Yeah. I want to help you deal with whatever unfinished business you have. Lucy as well. That's why she's here. So, please don't be angry with her." "Unfinished business?" the voice then went quiet. She leaned in and kissed Jack on the cheek. Lucy's body went limp and she nearly collapsed. Jack reached out and slid his arms under her. He yelled out 'Erin'; then 'Lucy'; but got no answer. He dragged the unconscious blonde to the sofa. Carefully setting her down, Jack then prodded her cheek, trying to wake her up. She groaned and opened her eyes. "So, what are we going to do?" Lucy said immediately. Business Gets Busy. Jack looked at his phone as he walked through the front door. It was another email from his bosses in Boston. He had way too many people questioning his work. Being a cloud support engineer, he should be focused on the job. But since talking to Lucy about the s ance, Jack had been doing the bare minimum, and people were noticing. He figured that after he got closure with Erin, he could move on. Dumping the sage and wormwood on the coffee table, he saw her. Erin had been appearing more and more. Jack could actually count the times that she wasn't haunting the house. But he didn't get why; it was never this frequent back before. And she wasn't just haunting if you could call it, Jack's room. He had found her in the living room, kitchen and even the bathroom. Right now, Erin was floating near the Christmas tree. It was completely bare, left alone as Jack focused on work and the s ance preparations. There was some judgment he felt he was getting from Erin, like she still hadn't forgiven. Jack needed to remediate that, though he didn't really know how to regain trust with a ghost. He hunted for the Christmas decorations, taking longer than he hoped. Jack was desperate not to call his parents and deal with an endless conversation about how things were going in Springfield. Losing an hour to find them, Jack started decorating the tree, hoping that this will help him get back on Erin's good side. She carefully observed him as he decorated the tree, coating it in tinsel, lights and baubles. It appeared okay to Jack, the colors matched, and the string lights were all working. But looking at Erin, he was sure he had done something wrong. She wasn't that impressed. Jack first thought that she was still pissed at him, but then something hit him. While he saw her a lot during December, it was never on Christmas. This could be her first experience of Christmas in over a hundred years. With that, Jack opened his laptop and googled '19th century Christmas trees'. Getting an idea of what Christmas looked like in Erin's time, Jack grabbed his keys and told her that he will be back soon. Two hours later, Jack returned, and Erin looked like she was happy to see him. That's a positive sign, Jack said to himself as he emptied out his shopping bags. He bounced around a couple of stores before finding them, candle-like tree lights. Using real candles was a fire waiting to happen. And Jack didn't want to explain to his parents that he burnt the house down to impress a ghost. He then pulled out a ready-made popcorn and cranberry garland he got from a pop-up Christmas store. Looking at Erin, she approved by smiling back at him. He then added tinsel and icicle-like ornaments with Erin guiding him, pointing which branch needed something or if it was too much. Taking a step back, Jack admired his work. It looked old fashioned but still good. Seeing that Erin was happy was enough for him. He grabbed a beer from the kitchen and toasted, "That's one good-looking tree," he said, smiling at Erin. She rolled her eyes at him but then disappeared. That was getting Jack scared, her fading away just as they were bonding. It didn't look voluntary, like Erin really wanted to go to her void. She had this horrified look whenever it happened. Jack would then find her somewhere else in the house, an hour or two later. This time it was in the kitchen. He opened and closed the refrigerator door and found her there. Taking a moment to recover, Jack went back to making himself dinner. Erin hovered around him, curious at what he was doing. Jack guessed that she must have been shocked, that not many men cooked back in her time. He was also making pork chow-mein, and Jack wasn't sure how widespread Chinese food was in the 19th century. His phone began to buzz, and it was Lucy. Jack could see Erin's face turn. "She's probably asking about you," Jack said, putting his phone on speaker, "Hey Lucy." "Hey," she replied, "I got some news. We have to move the date of the s ance to the 12th. There's a full moon and it will go well with Hecate." "Hecate?" "Don't worry about it. Have you seen Erin since the other day?" Lucy asked, "Well, she is right here," Jack grinned at Erin, "She's in the room with me." "Whoa," she said, "How's that going? Wait shit, can she hear me?" Erin nodded. "Yeah." "Fuck. I mean shit. I mean I'm sorry," Lucy said, sounding like she was getting out of breath, "Anyway, I also need you to get some bundles of ash to burn. And candles, preferably black." "What is actually going to happen during the s ance?" "Hopefully, we can summon Erin properly and you guys can talk. Then maybe work out why is she here and if we can help her, somehow." Jack looked at Erin again. Her eyes were elsewhere. Jack started to doubt himself; was this something that she wanted him to do. "I will talk to you later, Lucy," Jack said, ending the call. Looking up from his phone, he saw that Erin had disappeared again. If the s ance actually works, Jack needed to ask where she goes whenever she vanishes. It didn't feel like a good place for her. Opening another beer, Jack sat down to eat and tried not to think about Erin. It was really hard. She still looked so sexy, and Jack was back replaying his eighteenth birthday present. Jack admitted to himself that with Erin randomly appearing in the house, he was feeling pent up.   Redhead Videos. It was close to two in the morning when Jack knew what he had to do. He had been rolling around his bed, got up twice and tried to dull his brain by checking the news on his phone. He still couldn't sleep. The only prescription that always worked for him was either whiskey or porn. As he couldn't be bothered to go all the way downstairs, Jack powered on his laptop and went straight to Porn. Jack checked out the video thumbnails, hovering over them as he tried to decide what he was in the mood for. Sometimes, he'd be craving blondes with double D-cups, getting plowed by massive cocks. Other times, it would be two lesbians slowly seducing each other. Milfs would be a good choice, but Jack felt that the algorithm would always then suggest stepmom porn, which he wasn't in to. He searched for amateur porn with Eastern Europeans, preferring their slender body shapes and lack of bad boob jobs. Jack sat up in his bed and pulled down his shorts, slowly stroking his cock to full, rigid life. He skipped the initial setup and forwarded it to the redhead pulling the guy's dick out. She grinned at the camera then kissed the man's purple head. Her tongue swirled around the tip before she quickly swallowed the man's cock. Jack shifted his weight as the redhead stripped off her top, revealing her decent-size tits. As the action turned to straight fucking with the twenty-something waitress bent over a park bench, Jack pumped his cock. He imagined himself there, in Prague, having hot, passionate sex in public. But then he felt cold. Looking up, there she was. Erin just appeared by the wall. She was confused and pressed the back of her head. It looked as if someone had just woken up, but in a different room than they were in before. She rolled her head around before stopping, and stared at Jack, her mouth agaip. He was illuminated by his laptop, so he knew that she could see what he was doing to himself. "Oh, fuck," Jack groaned, but he didn't stop stroking his cock. He thought she would float away, or scream, or do something, but Erin just stood there and watched. She even moved closer, standing at the edge of the bed. Her eyes focusing on his throbbing cock. Jack's heart was thumping as he frantically stroked his cock. His eyes darted back and forth from Erin to his laptop; the redhead had been replaced by a different model. She said that her name is Petra and is a med student, but what really turned Jack on was how Petra resembled Erin. Reddish-brown hair, slim body with perky tits, though she had tattoos and pierced nipples. His eyes bounced from Petra being fucked in a stall, to Erin's eager look. It was getting too much for him. His imagination then brought him to Prague again, but with Erin this time. He fucked her from behind, his cock pumping her hot, wet pussy, cupping her tits and making Erin groan in deep pleasure. Jack's balls were aching, then suddenly stopped, and he intensely climaxed. His tip exploded, and shot after shot of cum raced from his cock. Jack struggled to catch all his flying cum with a tissue. After cleaning himself, Jack and Erin exchanged looks. She was embarrassed, he could tell, staring at the ground and doing her most not to make eye contact. He wanted to say something, but Erin left the room. She didn't fade through the wall or vanish into anything, just walked away slowly. Jack then instantly fell asleep, not knowing what else to do.   A S ance. Jack opened the door, letting Lucy in. It was half two in the morning, and he was getting scared. A small sliver of thought wondered if she would let him down, or at least ask for $500 to proceed. For the s ance, Lucy had gone all gothic, wearing a black velvet dress and knee-high boots, also in black. She was carrying a large tote bag. There was panic in her eyes. She apologized for her lateness, saying that it took a while to get a cab. Jack was instructed by her, to get bundles of sage and wormwood for burning, plus ash. Lucy herself handled the weirder and harder to find items. She pulled out a knife that she called an athame, a ceremonial dagger Jack guessed. She also had a black bowl that she said is a water scry. It was going to help them talk to Erin. Jack led her to the kitchen and they quickly got ready. While she cut the sage and wormwood with the athame, speaking in Latin, Jack got the idea that this wasn't a con. It was real for her. That gave him hope. "So, where should we do this?" Jack asked, taking a steel bucket that she had handed him. "Your room." Lucy said, pulling more stuff out of her bag. "I've been thinking. You said you're the only one who saw her. And you normally see her in your bedroom, right? I think that's where she was murdered. By you sleeping there, a psychic link was created between you and Erin." Jack nodded. It made sense. They went to his bedroom; and with Lucy's help, he pushed his bed and everything else to one side, giving them space for the ritual. As they're going to make a fire, he opened the windows. Jack looked at the smoke alarms; if they go off, will his parents get an alert? Lucy got down on her knees and drew another circle on the floor, this time, a simple one without any other symbols. Jack lit the candles, twenty-four of them and placed them around the circle. Following her instructions, he then sat the bucket in the middle of the ring and lit the fire. Lucy took command of his bedside table and placed the porcelain bowl on top of it. She filled it with water from a special-looking bottle and dropped a crystal in it. "Take this and put it in the fire. Also, say her name in your head." Lucy said, handing him the sage and wormwood. Jack nodded and shuffled to the fire, trying not to drop the herbs. 'Erin, Erin, Erin,' he chanted in his head. He threw the herbs into the fire and was immediately overwhelmed by the aroma. It tasted sickly sweet, unnatural like. He then retreated behind Lucy; she was kneeling on the floor and speaking into the bowl. It sounded like Latin; Jack could make out the occasional word. She was calling out for Erin. The fire grew larger and smoke billowed from the bucket, looking like a volcano erupting. The smoke turned black, then blue and finally into grey. Jack took a step forward, in a trance, his mouth wide open and his hands trembling. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Lucy with her eyes clenched shut and was now calling Erin's name. Her fingers dug into the table and she frantically said 'Erin' over and over. He saw the smoke begin to clear and a body appeared above the fire. Jack gasped. Erin! She looked stunned, her hand covering her face. He opened his mouth but couldn't say a word, shocked. Color poured into her clothing, turning the transparent household dress into black. Her skin returned to its ivory color, while her hair became reddish-brown just as he saw ten years ago. Lucy had stopped chanting; she also was staring at Erin. She looked shocked, maybe a little scared. Lucy stood up and slowly shuffled towards Jack, resting a hand on his shoulder; but she kept her distance from Erin, using Jack as a possible human shield. Erin was just as surprised as the two of them. She reached out her arm, amazed by it. This was real. Erin moved forward but awkwardly stumbled as if she missed a step going downstairs. She then took a couple of more steps and touched the floor, a new sensation for her. Taking a deep breath, Erin became dazed with the menthol-like odor of burning sage. Her eyes lit up and a smile beamed from her face; she could smell. She then turned her head, focusing on the two, who had resurrected her. Her clogs banged against the wooden floor as she walked to Lucy. The psychic was trembling in her presence. Lucy flinched as she touched her arm. "Thank ye," Erin whispered. She then leaned in, and kissed the surprised blonde. Lucy moaned, instantly enjoying the kiss. Jack watched on, shocked. He didn't know if he should be terrified or turned on. Lucy wrapped her hands around Erin's waist and pushed herself against the resurrected maid. Overwhelmed by a sudden desire, Lucy slid her tongue deep into Erin's mouth. She felt good, but so tired. Erin then released the medium and watched as Lucy collapsed onto the floor in a deep sleep. She turned to Jack and grinned. "Erin?" Jack asked. His hands were trembling and he felt that he was going to sink into the floor. This is it, right? This was what he wanted, but he had no idea how to respond. "Is it really you?" He eventually spat out. "Hi, Jack," Erin smiled. "Fuck;" Jack said. He reached out and touched her hand with his. Wasn't this just supposed to be a s ance? "I can't believe I can touch you." "Me too," Erin said. "How are you?" Jack asked in a deeply sincere tone. "Confused. It felt I was being called by an unknown force. Then it took me." "I'm sorry, but I really wanted to talk to you." "I understand. Oh, it feels good to be heard and to speak with my own voice." "I need to tell you something," Jack said, "The reason we're talking is because I wanted to help you. But I never asked if you actually needed my help." She went quiet, looking like she was thinking something over, in her head. "You said about unfinished business. Bu

Dallas Attorney Jeremy Rosenthal asks the question: When does free speech become obstruction of justice? It's a big part of this case

Servicing Foxx Inc: Part 4 Trouble In Paradise By PtmcPilot listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories. As a brief recap, I had separated from the Navy a few weeks ago after six years in submarines. Growing bored of lounging around my parents' house, I began a job search, and to my surprise I found myself in an interview a short time later. An interview, believe it or not, that ended with my having sex with my hiring manager. My job, should I choose to accept it, was to sexually service the women of Foxx Inc. Just based on the interview, it was good work if you can get it. It was 10 hundred hours on the first Thursday of my first week at Foxx Inc. when I was reminded that, as much fun as it was, fucking, or rather servicing, the women of the firm was still a job. The best, most awesome, craziest fun job possible, yes, but still a job. 10:00 when I received my first all-too-terse email from HR, the delectable Ms. Olson. It was a calendar appointment for 10:15 under the title, "Performance Review." This made me not a little nervous. After all, I'd been on the job for all of three days and a wakeup. That morning had started with an off the hook romp with a tiny blonde from bookkeeping. I thought it had gone pretty darn well, yet here I was, not fifteen minutes after showering post romp, when this performance review threw a monkey wrench into the works. There was no doubt the blonde and the review were connected, and it was very much bothering me that I did not know why. I was finishing my second bottle of pineapple juice for the morning when I heard the click and Ms. Olson walked into my office. I stood, said, "Good morning," and gestured to a chair. Her look was unusually serious as she took the offered seat. She looked at me with a level gaze and said, "Really Mr. Jeffries. I thought the first complaint would take longer than three days." "Complaint?" I repeated, trying to remain calm even as I contemplated losing the best job in the history of employment. She raised an eyebrow and leaned back in the chair. Yes, but more of a, 'I asked for the dressing on the side' than a 'I demand this person be fired' kind of complaint. I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. She continued, "I'd like to be sure I have the facts straight before we discuss corrective action." Once again, it was unreal how well her phrasing matched with my nuclear submarine background. She seemed to be waiting on me, so I simply said, "Of course, that makes sense." "Good," she said. "Now, let's begin at the beginning. When Ms. Cartwright came into your office this morning at 0 9 15, did she present her secondary badge?" "Yes, she did." "Presuming you examined it, what codes did you see?" she asked, her expression still stern. I thought about it for only a second, the combination was a vivid memory. It was a bit difficult to be this direct with her even after working here a few days. "Well, from top to bottom, NCL, FFK, ANO and CAN." "I'm impressed by your memory of the codes, but I am more interested in what they meant to you." I shifted in my seat and she immediately noticed. The eyebrow went up again. "Don't get bashful on me Thomas, I'm quite serious," she said. I cleared my throat, then said, "Yes, well, those mean; 1.       name calling, er, 2.       face fucking, 3.       anal only, and 4.       come wherever you like that I didn't say to avoid " She smiled, but with clarity rather than mirth. "Good, of course you are correct. Now that we are clear on terminology and meaning, I have a few questions for you as I try to determine what really happened during your encounter earlier. Please answer as succinctly as you can." She waited for me to nod my understanding before continuing. "Mr. Jeffries," she said like an attorney examining a witness, "when you had your cock in Ms. Cartwright's mouth, would you characterize the event more as fellatio or facefucking?" You know, even after a crazy few days, this woman could leave me speechless. "I, er, well," I stammered. Her expression did not change, "I'm fairly sure you comprehend the difference, Mr. Jeffries, do you not?" I nodded, "I do." Rather than prompting me, she waited for me to speak. I finally did. "I would have to say more like fellatio." She smiled again, the same hard smile of an attorney winning a point. "That was her account as well. Now, how many times did you use a derogatory term with her, like cunt or slut?" This was a really fucked up Thursday, I have to say. "Once or twice? I guess? I don't really remember." "Is it possible that your execution of 'name calling'", she used air quotes, "was limited to one use of the term 'slut'?" I sighed, "Yes." She nodded, "Now, did you, or did you not touch her anus with one or more fingers?" My mouth fell open before I could catch it. I stammered, "Um, yes, yes I did. But," "What Mr. Jeffries? Are you going to provide some kind of reason for the unwanted touching?" she scolded me. "Well, I thought," "You thought the unwanted touching was actually wanted?" "Well, no, I thought it was necessary to," "Stop!" she barked. I say barked because she raised her voice suddenly. I mean, it wasn't a yell or a scream, just something akin your Chief saying "shut it!" "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume your actions were intended to lubricate Ms. Cartwright prior to penetration. Would that be correct?" Again I let out a breath. It seemed odd to be on the verge of getting canned for the offense of lubing up a coworkers asshole before you plowed her. Then again, that I should find that odd was the weirdest kind of surreal. "Yes, Ms. Olson, that was my intent." She nodded. "And why do you suppose, you essentially had Ms. Olson perform fellatio rather than fucking her face, as she requested?" When I did not immediately answer she added, "And why did you simply call her a slut once when she requested name calling?" Now that kind of threw me for a loop, and my expression must have said so. I didn't have an answer right away. She used the "60 Minutes" interview technique and remained quiet, staring at me while I tried to compose an answer. After some time I said quietly, "Because I'm not entirely comfortable doing those things." Now her face broke into an honest, warm smile. "Okay Tom, now we can talk." She stood and slowly paced around the room. "Tell me, have any of the women here asked you to pinch them quite hard?" "Sure," I said quickly. "Ah. And have any of them wanted you to pull their hair? Pin their arms down?" "Um, yes," I said. "Okay. Assuming that those things are generally more uncomfortable than pressing lube into one's ass, why do you suppose you were okay not questioning their requests?" she said, and stopped to look at me. Her expression was kind of like a teacher, waiting for me to figure out the right answer. It took a minute before something registered. It did not make me feel better. I suddenly had the realization that while my 'hard no's' were off the table, everything else was expected of the PBS. "I suppose because I like to do those things." She smiled, pleasantly. She sat down again. "That is a very enlightened thing for a twenty something to figure out. I'm once again quite pleased with myself for finding and hiring you. Yes, you are entirely correct. You are a considerate, caring, and talented lover. And as you have only your experience as a guide, you will find Foxx Inc. is both simpler and more challenging. You don't need to figure out what these women want. Your job is to provide what they need. What they ask for. Mostly they will ask for it directly, and that is their responsibility. But it may be challenging if what they want is not typically your cup of tea. If you had throat fucked Jenny Cartwright until she couldn't talk for a day, that would be on her. If you had pounded her ass so she worked standing up for a week, that would be on her. Asking you to throat fuck her and instead requiring her to blow you, is on you." Again, I was deeply intrigued. She went on, "If I want to get reamed with no lube, then all I have to do is put ANO on my badge and present my ass to you without getting ready." She saw I was still staring, "Most, if not all, wouldn't do that." I gulped, "I'm not sure how to go about that level of acting." She stood and shrugged, "Not my problem. However, I am prepared to give you a bit of training." "Training?" I said. The confusion no doubt obvious on my face. She smirked, "First a couple of thoughts. Psych yourself up, give yourself a moment to get into character. It need not be instantaneous, especially if the request throws you for a loop. But yes, training." She turned to leave, but looked back at me as she put her hand on the door handle, "And for that, Ms. Cartwright will be back to reassess you at 13 hundred. Do make me proud Thomas." And with that she left. I pondered my future for a good ten minutes before I returned to one of my favorite movie quotes, "There is no fate but what we make." And that meant I had to accept one thing above all else, get off on whatever the woman wanted. After another ten minutes I was still wondering if I could do it. I sat and stared at the ceiling until just after noon, then went to the cafeteria to get lunch. As I have not mentioned it until now, the uniform I sported that day was that of a brown truck deliveryman, complete with brown socks and sneakers. The deliveryman's name was 'Hank.' If Ms. Cartwright had said anything untoward about me after our morning encounter, none of the women eating lunch seemed to be affected. Those that knew me, and those that just knew who I was, either looked at me and smirked, grinned, gave me no notice or perhaps a slight wave. Cindy, aka Velma, from IT caught my eye and gestured me to come over. She looked at my name tag as I sat down across from her. "Hey, Hank, how are you today?" I shrugged and she added, "I guess you don't have a delivery for me this afternoon?" "Truth is I don't really know the delivery schedule," I said without much enthusiasm as I dug into my sandwich. Cindy gave me a long wink, "No? From what I heard you need to make a couple of deliveries to the, ah, rear entrance. If you get my meaning." I swallowed heavily, "I see. And if you were making such a delivery, would you have any advice?" Her face lit up with a full smile, "Well, as you know, I tend to take my deliveries via the main entrance. But from what I've heard, the loading dock back there is reinforced. You could really just slam into it and the delivery van and the dock would be just fine. But that's just the packages, mostly. You could deposit any, ah, loads, through the back door, or right on the front porch." When I didn't say anything she leaned forward, resting her considerable chest on the table and lowering her voice, "Or perhaps I need to be more blunt?" "No, no," I said quietly, "that's not necessary. But how did," She silenced me with a very brief gesture, "Jenny is a talker, and between us, the least likely person you would ever expect to be a sub, and then only sometimes." At this point I was sporting a half woody and my thoughts about my 13 hundred meeting had changed quite a bit. "Thanks Cindy. I'm really looking forward to another romp with Velma." She smiled broadly, "I'm sure she is as well." And with that we concluded our meals in relative silence. Back in my office I had about thirty minutes to consider how to play my 'do over', as we used to say in the Navy, before the arrival of one Jenny Cartwright. It was right about then that I remembered a small box in the top left hand drawer of my desk, labeled, 'In Case Of Emergency.' That seemed a bit strong for my current situation, but I opened the drawer and picked up the box to check it out. Opening it I spied what looked like a couple dozen diamond shaped blue pills. Well, that was one way to be sure you could get hard, but that wasn't really my problem. Truth is, knowing that Jenny wanted me to use her mouth and her ass had me nearly ready to go. And then my memory flashed back to my interview last Friday. To Ms. Olson's mention of a former girlfriend and lover, Tilly, and some of the crazy encounters we'd had. On one such occasion she had somehow acquired a couple tabs of viagra and suggested we spent the weekend 'sport fucking' as she called it. Aside from having to force my erection into submission with ice a couple times (that 4 hour erection warning was one I took seriously), we'd fucked literally for hours. Only stopping to come up for air, food and water. By the middle of the weekend we'd figured out how to only stop for restroom breaks. But there was a particular thing I'd discovered about myself that weekend, and a certain Ms. Cartwright was about to be the beneficiary of that knowledge. I made a quick call to Ms. Olson about a closely related topic, and she confirmed I was on solid ground unless Ms. Cartwright let me know otherwise. At a quarter to one I took half a tablet, sat behind my desk, and waited for my 'service' appointment. Promptly at 13 hundred the key reader chimed and the door lock 'clicked' loudly. Entering my office was Jenny Cartwright. Blonde, very attractive, modest b-cup breasts, and now sporting a skirt and three inch heels. Her expression was neutral as she regarded me, "Mr. Jeffries," she said. I gestured her to come forward, "Don't know who the fuck that is." I poked a thumb toward my name tag, "Name's Hank. And you must be the cunt tried to get me fired this morning." To my surprise and pleasure, she seemed surprised and taken aback. That, or she was a really great actress. "Lemme see your badge already," I said, and she handed it to me. While her card this morning had been labeled with a list, now it was a word cloud, and with all the code words in the same size font there was clearly no priority. Taking a deep breath I paused and considered what was there. Name calling, face fucking, choking, ass fucking, and come pretty much anywhere you like. I didn't need to check to know I was sporting an iron hard cock. I backed the chair away from my desk and stood, proudly displaying said cock as I had taken off my shorts and underwear. Again she seemed surprised. "Get on your knees and open your mouth, bitch, or I'll let Ms. Olson know what really happened this morning." When she didn't immediately move to do so, I went right up to her, put my hands firmly around her neck and squeezed just enough to show I meant it. As I pressed down she sank to her knees. I relinquished my grip on her throat and gathered up a handful of her shoulder length hair. When I poked my cock against her lips and she didn't open her mouth, I used my other hand to pinch her nose closed. She looked up at me with a bit of fear in her eyes, and the second she exhaled I jammed my cock into her open mouth. I got grazed by a couple teeth, but I wasn't deterred. Her hands pushed at my thighs as I held myself halfway into her mouth. "I'm pretty sure you've got the talented tongue of a slut, so get using it," I said as I started to thrust slowly in and out of her mouth. She responded as she had this morning, rather enthusiastically running her tongue over the head of my cock. But this time, I knew that was the wrong move. It was time to start making her earn what she wanted. When I heard her exhale I thrust my cock slowly and fully into her mouth and back into her throat. Her eyes popped and she looked up at me as I held myself there, blocking her windpipe. She batted at my thighs, and after a count of ten I pulled back and watched as she coughed, spit, and gasped for air. The instant she had a breath I started to fuck her mouth with slow, long strokes. She gagged a little, and I didn't let it stop me. I repeated this move, keeping her guessing as to when she would get to breathe and just how deep I would go. The viagra was helping me hold off, but just barely. It was after several minutes of this I noticed her hands were busy under her skirt. "So the slut gets off on a face fucking, huh?" And with that I actually tried to fuck her throat like a cunt for about a minute. By the end her face was a complete mess and the smell of sex in the air was strong. It appeared I might be on the right track after all. Still controlling the movement of her head with a handful of her hair, I pulled out of her mouth and pressed her onto her back in the middle of the fluffy rug. I threw her skirt upward, then pulled her top up over her breasts. Her hands had gone back to rubbing her cunt and she wasn't wearing any panties. I let go of her hair and put my hand on her throat, pushing enough to let her know I was still in charge. Kneeling between her thighs, I pushed one leg back then placed the head of my cock against her asshole. "Always nice to see a dirty cunt play with herself while I pound her ass." She was looking me right in the eye as I started to push forward. To my surprise, she was clenched. Well, I figured, if that's what she wants. And with that I bucked into her with all my power. I did not anticipate what happened next. Her back arched, her breath caught, her eyes flew wide open and then rolled back, and she came like a bomb. She didn't make a lot of noise, but as I fucked her delightful ass she bucked and thrashed and moaned and squeaked like some kind of crazy ride at a sex carnival. I swear you almost needed cowboy training to stay in the saddle. After twenty or so seconds she seemed to come back to earth, which is when she looked at me in surprise, "You, you're still going?" she panted. At this I decided it was time to end round one and give her a reward. I moved my hand once again to her hair and held her head to the floor. "Since my little ass-slut asked for it," I said, feeling myself getting very close to coming. She seemed to try and push at me, and that tripped the trigger. At once I withdrew from the tightness that was her ass and crawled up next to her face. She might have tried to look away, but I held her in place as I groaned aloud as my climax hit. I burst all over her face, covering her with shot after shot as my ejaculation went on. She sputtered as my come landed on her mouth, then her eyes and forehead. I shouted as I peaked, then shuddered as I squirted a bit more on her. And now it was time for the surprise. Letting go of her hair I grabbed both ankles and flipped her onto her belly. Straddling her ass I once again lined up my cock with her ass. That weekend with Tilly had revealed that while on viagra I could enjoy a refractory period without actually losing my erection, provided I kept the stimulation to a minimum. So I wasn't exactly sure how this was going to play out when I unceremoniously sank my cock back into her ass. I was greeted with a guttural 'Ugh' as I pushed into her ass. I moved very little, and while she seemed to be trying to do so, my weight was positioned to all but prevent that. I held myself inside her, my hips hard up against her ass. She turned her come covered face to look at me, "Still, hard?" "Nice cunt like you has such a great ass, it's really motivating." I gave her a stroke now and then, careful to never let my head past her tight sphincter. I could tell by her movements she was getting restless. She'd already come once, I'd come on her face, and yet here I was firmly ensconced in her ass...and hard as anything ever was. She bucked her hips a couple of times, groaned, then clenched her ass around me. Still, she said nothing. Finally, after more than a few minutes and with her still anally impaled on my (happily proud of it) still quite hard cock, she turned that come covered visage toward me, tried to blow some hair (that was stuck stuck to her face with come) out of her face and said in a low and tired voice, "How, how are you still going?" I leered at her, putting my hands in the small of her back and shifting my weight to them as I pulled mostly out of her. With her now deliciously pinned under me, I grunted, "We're just getting started." And I lunged into her, to be rewarded with a grunt of her own. I worked my strokes up to a full on rapid pounding, urged on by the feeling that I now knew I'd be able to come again. After a good few minutes of this, she began moaning. And that was when things changed a bit. As her moaning got louder she was starting to try and say something, but it was like my cock kept forcing her breath out. She was kind of frantically wiggling under me, and it looked like she was trying to get her hands under her, but she couldn't. Then I heard her moan something, "So, unnggh, clooose," she said. As I continued to pound her without mercy, she was groaning out those words like a mantra. "So," pant, pant, "close." Over and over. And then, "Please." Slowing just a bit, I said, "Please what?" "Got. To. Touch. My, ugh, clit." "I don't know, nice ass slut like you? That must be terrible," I said. "Please!" She pleaded. "And why should I after all the trouble you've caused me? I'm about to fill you up whether or not you get off." "What do you want?" she asked. "Oh no, I'm not falling for that, but I do think your clenching asshole is just what I need to finish myself." On a down stroke I held myself fully inside her, seized her wrists and held them behind her with one of my hands. Then, I shifted us so we were on our sides, and I moved her top leg back over me, spreading her lewdly. I put my free fingers to her mouth,"get 'em wet." And she did without protest. I renewed my pounding of her ass and her breathing got really shallow. I figured she must be so close it nearly hurt. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do with your cunt." "Ugh, tug my clit. Please." I kept up my pace, and when I knew I was close I said, "I'm going to make you come now, because it'll feel great for me," and with that I took her clit between my fingers and began to pull it up and down, pinched between her slippery smooth lips. The result was immediate. She grunted, her whole body seized up, and then she started to let out a wail. The subsequent spasming of her ass sent me over the edge as well, and I erupted into her ass. I continued to pump her rear full of cum as I slammed against her ass with every thrust. By the time I was done, she'd become a limp, tired out noodle. Finally spent, I pulled out of her with a distinct squelching sound, and turned to go use the facilities. "Nice fuck, I guess you can stick around." After relieving myself I opened the door to find her holding her clothes and waiting for her turn. Her face was a mess, but her expression was a nice mix of satisfaction, exhaustion, and 'I've just been thoroughly fucked.' She passed me without saying anything. I smiled to myself as I put my brown shorts back on and resumed my seat behind the table. She emerged a few minutes later, looking much more presentable; however, it appeared the 'I just got rogered but good' expression was going to be around a bit longer. As she reached the door she turned to me and said, "Have a good afternoon, Hank." I nodded, "It's off to a good start so far." About twenty minutes later I was working on rehydrating when my phone rang, "PBS," I said. I recognized Ms. Olson's voice at once, "You were an excellent find, Tom. I understand there is some special technique I need to learn more about?" I chuckled, "Reserved for only the hardest cases, Ms. Olson." "Touche, Mr. Jeffries, touche," and she hung up. After the last several hours I decided to take a nap, and I was still soundly asleep when I awakened to the feeling of a breast being pressed against my lips. I parted my lips and fastened onto a nipple. An unknown voice said, "I'm glad you're awake now." As the breast and nipple pulled back, I saw an asian looking woman I did not immediately recognize. She tugged at my shorts and I lifted my hips obligingly as I looked at her badge. FOX, VSX and NIX, it read. That translated to my mind as 'I'm going to blow you, and then I'm going to fuck you, and please do anything and everything with my breasts that you like.' Her breasts were on the largish side, but not huge, and she knelt on the couch next to me as she took my cock into her mouth. I relaxed back into the cushions and enjoyed playing with her tits as she blew me. It was a great combination. After several minutes she pulled off me and told me to lay on the rug (which I had changed out after mashing Ms. Cartwright's come covered face into it an hour ago). As I repositioned, she removed her clothes and draped them over a chair. Her pubic hair was limited to a fine strip, and her lips were visibly wet and flared. She straddled my hips and leaned forward, offering her breasts to me. I mauled them with my hands, my tongue, my lips, my teeth, and pinched and kneaded them for all I was worth. Moments into this she was moaning like crazy, and she angled her hips and took me inside her. With the viagra still in my system I was hard as a pipe. My partner, now identified as Janey Soo, clearly approved as she rode me like I was a proverbial bucking bronco. However, this bronco was ready to be broken, so I just lay there and let her do all the work. Well, that and I continued my thorough enjoyment of her tits. Her pace picked up and she was madly riding me, sliding her hips back and forth and quickly stroking us both toward a climax. "Suck 'em and nibble on them, Hank. Time for the finish," she said. I did as she asked, squeezing her full tits with a firm grip and sucking on her nipples like my life depended on it. She groaned, then said, "Come in me, Hank. Come in my cunt." Next to someone saying 'come on my face,' those are the words that get me every time. I groaned and grunted to let her know I was about to come, and she did not disappoint. Somehow her stride got just a bit faster, but stayed right on a steady pace. I felt myself go over the edge and knew she would have a full cunt soon. My verbalizations triggered her, and then her gyrations got a bit wilder. She rode me through a great climax, complete with handfuls and mouthfuls of tits and nipples. What a happy way to go. Finished, she leaned down and kissed me, hard, on the mouth. It was a kiss full of passion even though we had both just come. My hands, of course, never let go of her tits. And when she broke the kiss and started to rise, I still had a firm grip on them. Placing her hands over mine she gently pulled them away. "You've got to let go now," she said with a smirk. I grinned and laced my fingers behind my head. She stood and started dressing. "Until the next time," I said. She blew me a kiss, "Looking forward to it." And just like that, the day that started so poorly ended quite nicely. Oh, I should mention that I had many, many more odd encounters with Ms. Cartwright, and the most unexpected of those is worth its own, out of sequence, story. By PtmcPilot for Literotica

The AP's Eric Tucker reports some former FBI agents are taking Director Kash Patel and the Trump administration to court, saying they were unjustly punished for trying to defuse a George Floyd protest.

Servicing Foxx Inc: Part 3 Job Performance Medical Testing By PtmcPilot listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories. "Come in," she called. I entered the medical exam room to find her standing in a white uniform with white two inch heels, her hair now down, and most strikingly, the top three buttons on her uniform undone. I couldn't tell if she was wearing a bra, but the cleavage she was sporting could almost put Christina Hendricks to shame. She held out a hand and I passed her the clipboard. "Please sit here," she said, motioning to a chair that was also equipped with an apparatus for me to sit my arm on while a blood sample was taken. She reviewed my medical history, making notes and asking me questions every now and then. Then she donned a pair of latex gloves and prepped some sample vials. "Are you allergic to rubbing alcohol or latex?" She asked. "No," I said, and moved the armrest into position. She frowned at me, removed my arm from the rest and moved it out of the way. Then she moved the armrest into position and positioned my arm upon it. I didn't get it, but I let her do as she wanted. "Please keep your arm here while I sterilize." She raised an eyebrow and said, "Hmm. I think this will go better if you acknowledge my orders more precisely." I nodded. She smiled, "Do you understand?" As Ms. Olson had said, she was precise, and I was beginning to understand something about this woman. "I understand, Nurse Jenkins. I will keep my arm here while you sterilize." For my words I was rewarded with that brilliant smile. She broke the seal on an alcohol wipe, then held my wrist as she thoroughly scrubbed the inside of my elbow. Next she picked up a tourniquet strap and tied it around my upper arm. "Please make a fist and squeeze three times, holding on the last," she said. "Make a fist and squeeze three times, holding on the last, aye," I repeated back as if in the Navy again. Her cheeks flushed and her nostrils flared (I swear they did), as she produced the sample syringe, selected a vein, and stuck me for the sample. She was well practiced and it was a good stick. After drawing two vials she pulled the syringe and applied a square of gauze, "Apply pressure," she said as she disposed of the syringe and then started to invert the sealed vials a few times. "Apply pressure, aye," I said, and she smiled again. She took the vials to a nearby machine, where she inserted the tubes and pressed a few buttons. Then she returned, bringing an elastic, self stick bandage with her. She took the gauze from me and applied a new piece, "Apply pressure," she said. I repeated back the order, and was rewarded with another bright smile as she applied the bandage. She then stood and motioned for me to follow her. "Employment does require verification that you are drug free, so next up is the urine sample." She crooked an eyebrow at me, "Are you sufficiently hydrated to provide a sample at this time?" I checked, yep. "Yes, Nurse Jenkins." "Do you typically suffer from stage fright? As they say?" She asked. "Um, no Nurse Jenkins," I said, though in truth I was certain I had never tried whatever it was she appeared to have in mind. Then she laughed and handed me a specimen jar. "I'm just messing with you," and she pushed me into the small restroom and shut the door. She came back a couple minutes later and took the now filled, sealed and cleaned specimen bottle from me. "Now, Tom, please remove your clothes and put on the gown over there. Be sure the gown opening is to the front." I'll go easy on you here and just say I continued to repeat back all of her instructions verbatim. Her expression was not so much professional detachment as it was desire when I finished the repeat back. Apparently such over the top verbal obedience was high on her list of triggers. She left the room, closing the door behind her, and I took off my clothes, folding them and setting them on a shelf. Now nude, I picked up the gown and pulled on the sleeves with the opening in the front. Now, normally such gowns tie in the back and the opening starts somewhere just over your ass. In this configuration the opening started at my belly button, putting everything on display. However, I wasn't really surprised. I knocked on the door and her voice replied, "Come in." Entering the room she gestured to the exam table. I noticed it was now pleasantly warm in the room. "Please sit and we will review your medical history and start the skin survey." I sat down, with my now semi-hard cock pointing up from my groin. And it was in this configuration, with me mostly naked and her sitting fully clothed only a few feet away and right in front of me, that we discussed my medical history for the next twenty minutes. Seemingly satisfied with the evaluation, she set the clipboard aside and washed her hands again. "Now, Tom, I find it best to conduct the exam of your epidermis with my bare hands. If you have any objections I will switch to gloves of course." Of course, I thought. Then she asked, "Do you have any objections to my use of bare hands?" Shaking my head, I said, "No objections Nurse Jenkins." She beamed at me, then said, "Very well. Please remove the gown and lay down on your chest and I will examine your back first." I gave the repeat back and added, "Yes nurse". Then I pulled the knot loose, dropped the gown to the floor and turned and lay down on my chest. It was at this point I realized the only purpose of the gown was to reinforce the fact she was fully clothed and I was definitely not. No sooner was I lying on my chest when I felt her hands on my feet. Her fingers alternately stroked, pressed, probed and felt my skin. She took her time, asking about various moles, small scars, and other things of interest. As she went over my thighs and ass, I started to get aroused again even though she wasn't really doing anything to directly elicit such a response. She seemed to sense my discomfort as she worked on my lower back. "Please roll to your left side," she said. Rather than repeat this, I simply rolled as directed. She took hold of my stiffening cock and adjusted its position before rolling me back onto my belly. She then finished her examination of my backside, informing me I would have follow ups with a dermatologist for two odd looking moles, just to be sure. "Now roll over to your back please," she said, and I did. Once again she started at my feet and worked her way up to my scalp, skipping my groin. All the attention had me once again hard and ready for whatever was next. I didn't have to wait long. "Mr. Jeffries, at this time I would like to get you comfortable for the final portions of the exam." I nodded to indicate she should continue. "I will be manually examining your testicles, very carefully, to look for any lumps. You do know your age bracket is most at risk for testicular cancer?" I was lying on my back, nude, as the nurse ran her hands over my balls, cupping them snugly. I didn't try to hold back a groan. "Yes, nurse." "When complete I will perform a digital exam of your prostate, followed shortly by collection of a sperm sample." I groaned and acknowledged her, ready for whatever she had in mind to make that last part happen. "Mr. Jeffries, while most commonly a prostate exam is conducted with the patient bent forward over the table, I suggest we avail ourselves of the equipment present to make you most comfortable." "I, um, don't understand." She leaned forward and put her face right in front of mine, "Scoot your ass down the table and put your feet in the stirrups." Now that gave me pause. While I understood women getting into that position, I wasn't sure about my doing it. The pause was just long enough to draw a reprimand. Her face was still right in front of mine as her hand holding my balls changed from fondle to control, but well short of anything painful. "Mr. Jeffries, is there a concern you would like to voice?" Her grip shifted from control to fondle, and back. With her still holding onto me I adjusted my position on the table as instructed, "No, Nurse Jenkins," I groaned as she manipulated me. Then she let go of me and helped my feet into the stirrups, my calves resting on the pads. Then, in another surprise, she attached a Velcro strap to each. She then moved her chair and sat very close to me, taking my balls in her hand and very carefully palpating them. My cock, completely hard as a result of her manipulation, dripped onto my belly. I don't know how long she took for the exam, but there was quite the puddle when she was done. I figured she was done when she made a tight ring with her thumb and forefinger at the base of my cock even as she continued to hold my balls. "Mr Jeffries?" She said, and I looked down at her as she extended her tongue and started to lick my balls. My eyes rolled up and I groaned. She then ran her tongue up the length of my cock, twirled her tongue around my head, then licked up the puddle of precum. As my cock reached a state of full hardness she said, "Now we shall move on to the prostate exam and the sperm sample." Letting go of my cock, she stood and handed me a bulb shaped bit of silicone. "At some point during the process I will bring you to orgasm. At any time you feel you may ejaculate you are to inform me and pop that receptacle onto the head of your penis. Do you understand?" I nodded and said, "Yes nurse." Then she made an unnecessary show of putting on one latex glove and thoroughly lubricating her hands. Then she held the base of my cock and rubbed my balls as her gloved hand rubbed my perineum and anus. I tensed. I felt her breath on my cock as both her hands continued to stroke me. "You are clear on the outcome?" "Yes nurse," I said with some strain. "Good," she said and took me fully in her mouth. To my surprise, I delighted in the feeling of her finger pushing into me even as she slid her mouth down my length. I thrust my hips up as she pushed into me, and she coughed at the sudden movement and pulled back. The finger inside me was motionless for a bit, and then she starting moving it, though in a way I couldn't place. A deep pressure started to build. As she continued to 'examine' what had to be my prostate, she said, "Really Mr. Jeffries, thrusting is not appropriate." As she said this she stroked my cock using her saliva as a very nice lubricant. I could now tell she was rubbing every part of my prostate, being quite thorough. The pressure increased. "Will you be able to control yourself?" "Yes Nurse, I believe so." She nodded and gave me a most unprofessional leer. "I doubt it," she said, "but try anyway." And then she took me fully in her mouth again, her tongue doing wonderful things up and down the length of my cock. The finger in my ass was now moving more in and out than back and forth, and when she added a second finger I gripped the sides of the table and forced my hips to remain in place. She hummed around my cock and stroked me with her fingers. It was like nothing else I'd ever experienced. Her tongue worked my frenulum and head while her fingers stroked my shaft, and the effect of her fingers on my prostate was to make my cock feel a few inches longer. She regularly looked up at me, and the vision of her intense eyes with me in her mouth added another sexual dimension. As she bobbed and stroked me slowly it became clear that she was in no hurry. Monitoring my reactions, she paused her efforts every now and then back away from the edge. It felt strange and delicious, and after what seemed like ages but was probably only ten minutes, I had the feeling I was, well, dribbling into her mouth. She noticed as well and she took her mouth off me. "I've got you flowing nicely now, and I want a nice full sample from you." I looked down and noticed precum oozing out continuously. As she kept fingering me she massaged my balls with the rest of her hand. Then she resumed sucking and tonguing my head and crown as she stroked me, but this time felt different. As I started to tense up she didn't stop. "Nurse, I'm getting close!" I said with some urgency. She hummed an acknowledgment, looked me in the eye again. I had the silicone bulb thingy and I was damn close to needing it. Then, with an aggressive tongue lashing of my frenulum, I was there. "I'm going to come!" She continued to stroke my shaft as she backed away and I popped the cup over the head of my cock. It was a snug fit and I didn't have to hold it, which was good because just a moment later my body seized up and I found myself at the edge for an intense period. At no time did she stop stroking my cock and my ass, and then Boom! I exploded. The prostate massage and her continued stroking sent me into another world. My hips took off on their own as I pumped shot after shot into the bulb. When I finally started breathing again she pulled off the cup and took me in her mouth and gently licked and sucked me as I softened. When she stopped I realized her finger was no longer inside me. I heard the snap of her removing her glove, and then she undid the Velcro. "You may clean up and get dressed Mr. Jeffries, I should have your results soon," she said. I noticed she was quite flushed, possibly more than myself. "Yes Nurse," I said absently as I got off the bench in a post orgasmic daze. In the restroom I cleaned up, got dressed and knocked on the door some minutes later. "Enter," came her voice. I did so and she motioned for me to sit on the bench again. "Well, Mr.Jeffries, as might be expected for a young man of twenty-four years, you are in very good health. Blood work and vitals normal, all disease checks negative, your testes and prostate are normal, and you have a reasonably high sperm count." She paused then, kissed me and said, "Next time I'll get to swallow all the little swimmers." She showed me her 'sex badge', and I noted the two at the top were CIM (come in mouth) and FOX (essentially blow job). I returned her grin and said, "I look forward to it." She led me to the door and I headed back to my office. As I passed Allie at reception she smiled prettily. "How is your first day going?" She asked. "Somehow even better than I expected," I said. My stomach growled loud enough for her to hear. The clock said it was already 1230. "Would you like some lunch?" She asked. "That would be great," I said. She picked up the phone, punched a number and spoke briefly. A minute later Susan from security arrived and took Allie's place. "Be back in fifteen," Allie said. Susan smirked, "Take all the time you want." "Just lunch, Susan, not my turn," Allie replied. Allie led me to the cafeteria, where about ten people were still eating. I ordered a turkey club and joined Ashley at an empty table. As we ate we made small talk, mostly about how we had come to work at Foxx Inc. Allie was finishing an internship, looking to start law school in the Fall. She was quite interested in my Navy experience, and while I tried to answer her, I found it was always difficult to convey what life on a submarine was like. "So what about my predecessor?" I asked. "What about him?" she said. "Do you know why he left?" I asked. She shrugged, "I think the job wore him out. He was here for a few years I think, left Monday last week." "Wore him out, as in " I said, the question hanging there. She swallowed a bite of food and then said, "I'm sure that at some point having all the sex you can handle must become too much." She shrugged, "Or maybe he wanted a girlfriend. It would take someone really open minded to let their boyfriend loose in here every day." Too tired? I thought about that. I'd had two great orgasms today, and I felt energized. Would I feel that way by Friday? One thing was for sure I was looking forward to finding out. I finished my sandwich and noticed a woman a couple of tables away was watching me. Allie noticed my glance and looked over her shoulder. The other woman waved at us, then stood and left the room. "Who was that?" I asked. "That's Cindy from IT, your last appointment for the day. She'll be by around five after for your two pm meeting." "Oh?" I said. "Why five minutes late?" "Velma's never on time." "Velma? I thought you said Cindy?" I said, confused. "It'll be clear enough. She's not one to waste time, so I recommend having a password ready for your smart card. It's kind of like the CAC you used to have. Eight characters, upper and lower case, numerals and special character." "Sure," I said, confused, and wondering why she referenced a CAC at all. Back in my office I took a very quick shower before going over more maintenance history and familiarizing myself with the existing contracts. After going through about half the documents my impression was that things were running well in the building, but I'd follow up with Ms Olson later to get her thoughts. I also googled Velma, though I didn't remember the other name. It didn't take long to figure out what might be going on, so I was ready when shortly after 1400 my door opened and a woman walked in. She had short cropped dark brown hair, dark rimmed glasses, an orange sweater, a red skirt and orange stockings. A pair of large breasts wobbled underneath her sweater making it clear she was without a bra. "Hi," she said with a smile, "I'm Velma from IT to set up your account." At first I didn't recognize her, but something about her face was familiar. It suddenly dawned on me that this was the same woman from lunch. Her name tag read Cindy something, but whatever Velma wanted, I was ready to give it to her. I shook my head in an exaggerated manner and barked out, "Zoinks!" She laughed and smiled broadly. "You're so goofy, Shaggy." She gestured to my computer, "May I?" she said. I backed away from the desk and offered her the seat. "Of course." She smiled at me and said, "Thanks, Shaggy." Her hands flew over the keyboard, screens changing rapidly as she did so. After a moment she took my badge, removed it from the protective sleeve, and slotted into the side of the computer. She backed away and gestured toward the computer. "Once you enter a password it will take about fifteen minutes to generate keys," she said. I typed in a password and was asked to verify it twice. Once done she stood, went to the door, and locked it from within. Then she turned to face me and pulled her sweater over her head. She was a thicc young woman, with a truly large pair of nicely shaped tits. Silver dollar areola and tight pink nipples atop easily DDD milky white breasts. I closed the distance and took those mammaries in my hands, squeezing, fondling and sucking like a starving man. She murmured her approval and enjoyed my ministrations for a short while. Then she put her hands on my shoulders and gently pressed me to sit down on the floor. She sat down astride my thighs, her hands undoing my belt and pulling down my pants and underwear. She readily got me hard in her mouth before moving down and dangling her tits on either side of my cock. Not needing any guidance at this point, I took her tits in my hands and kneaded them as I held them around my cock. Fucking those beauties was a dream. Nothing quite like handfuls of breast wrapped around my dick to really get me going. Velma was holding herself up with her hands, watching me enjoy the use of her ample cleavage as her tits dangled over me. Even better, every four or five strokes she took me in her mouth to lube me up again. "Enjoying yourself?" She asked after a few minutes. I groaned with another thrust between the mounds filling my hands, "Very much so, Velma." "Cool, Shaggy," she said. "Okay if I ride you now?" "Be my guest," I said. She crawled forward a bit, then moved up her feet and shifted into a squat. Taking a hold of me she sat down on my cock as I sucked a nipple into my mouth. She was very wet, but extremely tight. She took her time, at least thirty seconds, to fully seat herself on my hips. Then, she leaned down to kiss me as she started to ride me ever so slowly. Velma used only her quads as she raised and lowered herself, and it seemed the tension in those muscles was also reflected in her kegels. Somehow she squeezed me on both the upstroke and the downstroke. It was a slow build for me, and who knows how she kept up those squats, but as she continued I found myself soon approaching a conclusion. "Velma, I'm getting close," I said. Dropping her weight on my hips she rolled us over into a missionary position, save for the fact I still had my pants on. I pulled out of her reluctantly and shucked off my pants and underwear. Velma spread her legs wide in invitation and started to rub her clit. Kneeling between her thighs I pressed into her again and then held her legs open by leaning on her thighs. She moaned as I started to fuck her in earnest. "Oh, yeah," she purred, "pound me Shaggy! Come in me!" Needing no other encouragement or direction, I did just that. Stroke after stroke I buried myself in her cunt, the delicious feeling building once again. Suddenly, her breath caught and her eyes closed tightly and she declared she was coming. She clamped down on me, threatening to keep me from finishing, but I would not be deterred from driving us both over the edge. I slid my hands to her shoulders and pulled her down as I thrust up into her tightness again. I could sense her coming off her peak and then I was there myself, swelling and then bursting inside her. She opened her eyes as I finished pumping her full of my third load of the day. "Thanks Shaggy, that was cool." I nodded, then withdrew to get dressed, yet again. She took her seat in front of the computer, chest still wonderfully bare. "Just in time Mr J. Your card is ready now." She stood and picked up her sweater which she pulled over her big tits with practiced ease. "The start page should help you well enough, but if you need anything, just call." she said. I remembered there was one thing I needed: how to expense the uniforms. Velma talked me through that and then it was time for her to go. I'd hardly said a thing during her visit, but it didn't seem to bother her. For the next couple of hours I made sure to rehydrate while I was using my new network access to evaluate the services currently under contract. All seemed to be in order, but there was something nagging at me. I spent some time trying to figure it out, but to no avail. It was half past four and about time for me to call it a day when there was a knock at my door and the always lovely Ms Olson came in and sat across from me. "And how was your first day, Joe?" She asked. Leaning back in my chair I said, "I think you know it's a bit of a living wet dream." She smirked and I continued, "But I do have a few questions." "I'll answer if I can," she said, "what's on your mind?" "First off, I thought I was providing the fantasy material," I said. She raised an eyebrow and held it there for a moment. "Surely having Velma from IT stop by wasn't too much of a burden?" I was briefly at a loss, "How " She held up a hand to stop me. "Many people like role playing, and from many sides. If it doesn't bother you then just enjoy it. And Velma's her thing. Always has been. I presume Shaggy was able to answer to his name?" I hadn't realized the joke of Shaggy shagging Velma, and I laughed out loud.. "Okay, and the nurse is, just that way?" Ms Olson regarded me quizzically, "What do you mean?" I realized I was about to say something unkind, and I stopped myself. "Nothing. My exam was pretty intense, that's all." The look I received was unexpected. "Was anything wrong?" She asked. "Um, well, no. I can't say that." "But the, ah, sperm sample collection surprised you?" She was instantly pleased by my surprise. My eyes narrowed, "Just how much of what goes on behind closed doors do you know about?" "Only what people tell me Mr Jeffries, only what they tell me." "And what was it our nurse said after our session?" Ms Olson smiled her brilliant predatory smile. "She all but demanded to be on your schedule the next time she is in the building. When I asked why she said the sample process precluded her from feeling your cock pumping down her throat." I was agog again, and she leaned forward, "Her exact words, I'm quite certain. I gather the prostate massage was unexpected? But enjoyable." I nodded dumbly. "I, um, yes of course it was. But why sperm samples?" She crossed her legs and held one knee in her hands. "Really Mr. Jeffries, when you ask me questions like that I have to wonder if you somehow faked being a nuclear trained operator." I sighed, "Because someone may want my sperm." "You see," she said with a smirk, "I knew you were quick." For the umpteenth time today I was momentarily speechless. "But with full medical, why not IVF or artificial insemination?" She nodded, "Those are options we support as well, but historically if the woman is fertile the old fashioned way is much more effective. And fun, of course." "I see." "No, I doubt that you do, but that's a discussion for another time." I had the distinct sense we were done for now. I walked around the table and lifted her to her feet. Taking her head in my hands I kissed her thoroughly before giving her a very unfriendly hug, pressing her taut nipples into my chest. "I'll never be able to thank you enough." She patted my cheek and stepped back. "I'd seriously like to fuck you right now, but I said three per day to start. I doubt you've had sex three times a day five days in a row at any time in your life. I don't want to overtax you starting on day one." "Well, actually, if you ask Tilly about this one time," I started, and she held up a hand to stop me. "It's mean to tell me I am not giving you a proper challenge," she turned, locked the door and immediately started undressing. "It will not do for me to think we are not getting you off enough." Subconsciously I had followed her lead and was quickly getting undressed to match her. "I didn't mean it that way," I said. Nude, she knelt on my couch and bent over. She looked over shoulder at me, "Now get over here and service me. I want your hands on my hips and your cock drilling me, right now." By the time she finished that statement I was sliding into her. I put my hands on her hips as requested, and started fucking her. "Mr. Jeffries, I have a dinner meeting in 30 minutes and I would appreciate a pair of quick orgasms so I have time to straighten up." I started grunting with effort and her moans and pants became more frantic. I was getting close to the finish myself. I turned her face toward me and checked that she was wearing blue lipstick. "Are you ready for me to give you your pre-dinner snack Ms. Olson?" Her mouth opened to say something, but then my fingers on her clit launched her climax and she couldn't seem to find the words. After a long period of gasping, she pulled free of my cock and turned to sit on the couch. At once she deep throated me. I reached down and twisted her nipples as she sucked on me. She moaned, and the sound put me over the edge. Even after coming three times earlier in the day, my body was not letting me down. I felt like I pumped a mouthful down to her belly, and I wondered if that would continue. This time she didn't seem to be in a hurry at all, and she continued to use her tongue to play with my cock until I was soft. "Thank you for the snack Mr. Jeffries. Good job getting hydrated. Organic man milk does a body good." She started to get dressed and I did the same. "I am going to sleep very well tonight Ms. Olson," I said. She finished dressing and patted me on the cheek. "I know you will," she said with a smile before she turned and left my office. I got dressed and sat down at my desk, the day's servicing work apparently concluded. I put my hands behind my head and leaned back, unable to keep a smile from forming on my face. I made a few mental notes of things I needed to work on. The tri-graphs. There were a lot of them, and if I was to service someone without speaking first, I wouldn't want to get any of them wrong. And two things tugged at the edges of my awareness: was there more to the story of my predecessor, and was there some reason to pay more attention to the intern? I honestly had no idea why Allie had popped into my mind, but it was oddly similar to the feeling you get when something isn't right in the propulsion plant. You get used to everything being a certain way, and when something is off, you know at once even though it is going to take a bit to figure out what has grabbed your attention. I replayed the brief encounters with Allie and couldn't put a finger on why I was, what? Curious? Skeptical? Suspicious? Shaking my head I picked up the PBS booklet, grabbed my keys and wallet and left for the day. To be continued By PtmcPilot for Literotica

Have you seen God advancing you in your calling? Are you dealing with spiritual warfare and in need of encouragement? In their heartfelt conversation, Guest host Sara Davenport and returning guest Valerie Rocha discuss her "Still Kneeling on The Throne" God Story about how the Lord is advancing her anointing in intercessory prayer through the completion of more written works. Valerie is an author, prayer intercessor, and has been walking with Jesus since the age of 13, and has a wealth of guidance and wisdom to offer all who connect with her. Valerie shares about her latest prayer devotional and Bible study guide that helps those looking to build a conversation with our loving Savior. Enjoy listening to Valerie's inspiring story and wisdom.  Special thanks to Kadosh Media for sponsoring this episode.

Did you know that using a birth ball is one of the easiest ways to help relieve common pregnancy pains? In today's episode of the To Birth and Beyond podcast, Anita is going to provide practical tips for incorporating a pregnancy ball into your daily routine to alleviate common pregnancy pains and improve pelvic mobility. The episode emphasizes the importance of starting early and using the birth ball as a supportive tool throughout pregnancy and postpartum recovery. You will be so surprised when you can mitigate back pain, hip pain, pelvic pain and so much more with a birth ball! - - - - - - - - -If you liked this episode of To Birth and Beyond, tell your friends! Find us on iTunes and Spotify to rate/review/subscribe to the show.Want more? Visit www.ToBirthAndBeyond.com, join our Facebook group (To Birth and Beyond Podcast), and follow us on Instagram @tobirthandbeyondpodcast! Thanks for listening and joining the conversation!Resources and References Bump to Birth Method - self-paced online program from Anita LambertFREE Prenatal Birth Ball Training Guidehttps://www.instagram.com/holistichealthphysioShow Notes 0:55 - Bump to Birth Method - self-paced online program from Anita Lambert2:41 - Anita shares what today's episode is all about3:44 - Anita lists the different pregnancy pains that a birth ball can help relieve4:47 - Anita explains why the term “birth ball” is a tad incorrect6:15 - Anita explains how to choose the correct size of birth ball for your needs7:52 - Anita runs through some irth ball positions and exercises for each7:56 - Birth ball position #1: Sitting on the ball10:15 - Birth ball position #2: Kneeling on floor and leaning upper body on the ball12:30 - Birth ball position #3: Child's pose, ball close, lean forward and place hands, head, and neck on the ball15:39 - Birth ball position #4: Lunge17:35 - Anita describes how long to do each of the exercises outlined in this episode19:04 - It's never too early to start using a birth ball!19:51 - Anita shares about her bonus Birth Ball Training inside of Bump to Birth!20:11 - Anita brings the episode to a close!

John Koelliker is a young dad doing his best to care for his family while leading a growing startup as its founder and CEO. Much of the way he lives today comes from watching another dad—his own father, David Koelliker—who passed away in 2019 after battling a brain tumor for nearly a decade. 2:05- Consecration and Cancer 5:45- Confidence as a Missionary 7:41- Achievable Ends 11:30- The Act of Kneeling 13:16- An Entrepreneurial Itch 15:28- And Culture 17:30- A Champion of the Underdog 19:53- Failure and Faith 21:43- The People That Give Us Wings 25:30- Sports and Work 28:28- Leadership 31:12- What Does It Mean to Be All In the Gospel of Jesus Christ? "I think the 'Be ye therefore perfect' has always felt like such an insurmountable challenge for all of us and I think it taught me that perfection in action certainly is but perfection in intent or in your heart is something that feels a little bit more attainable." Links: "Everyone Needs a Brain Tumor" by David Koelliker- https://www.amazon.com/Everybody-Needs-Brain-Tumor-Koelliker/dp/0692993118 Leland- https://www.joinleland.com/ Kore Baseball- https://a.co/d/g3nmL7d Forbes 30 Under 30- https://www.forbes.com/30-under-30/2023/education?profile=leland

Pastor Scott continues the series on the Ancient Worship from the Psalms.

Summary: This message urges believers to embrace God's power in every circumstance, live in united humility that testifies to heaven and earth, and pray boldly with expectancy for God to do exceedingly more.Series: Ephesians - Unstoppable: The Life you Were Made To LiveTitle: Part 5 - From Revelation to AdorationDate: 10/15/25, 6:30pm, Wednesday Bible StudySpeaker: Pastor Jeff BoothApproximate Outline:00:00 - Opening & Ephesians 3:2003:50 - Power at work within us07:20 - Paul's imprisonment perspective11:10 - Gentiles: the mystery revealed14:50 - Praise in the struggle18:10 - Manifold wisdom through the church22:00 - Bold access to the Father25:30 - Kneeling, humility & prayer29:30 - Interceding for the persecuted church33:40 - Love beyond measure & doxology

Back in the BLM days a group of FBI agents took a knee to show support with the rioters, Howie asks should they be fired for that?  Visit the Howie Carr Radio Network website to access columns, podcasts, and other exclusive content.

Kneeling before Jesus is more important than we imagine. On our knees before Jesus, we can be freed from Satan's bondage; on our knees before Jesus, our requests can be answered. On our knees before Jesus, we can recognize His power in our lives.

TRAITOROUS FBI Agents FIND OUT after KNEELING for Marxism! FAFO!

AP correspondent Donna Warder reports on the firing of FBI agents protesting for racial justice.

Welcome to an all new Carolina Reeper! In this episode... I'm giving money away!   Again! Who will win? Tune in to find out! Also, it's National Soft Ice Cream Day. So grab yourself a cone, a bowl, or just hold it under the machine like a ferrel kid at a Golden Corral.   In our Best Trends segment — the Cambridge Dictionary just added new words. Are they delulu?   Also trending, salmon-flavored candy. Is it candy or bait?   In Small Town News, demon bunnies. Yep, in Colorado, they've got rabbits with horns growing out of their heads.   Also! A big shoutout and thank you to Carthage, Texas and Alexandria, LA. Love y'all, thanks for coming out and supporting live comedy.   And sadly, we've got to say goodbye to a legend. Terence Stamp aka General Zod, gone at 87. He told us to “kneel before Zod.” Well tonight, we bow our heads instead. Rest easy, General.   So tune in, hang out with me in the comments, and let's do this thing together.   Don't be delulu — it's gonna be straight-up snackable comedy. All this and more on this week's Carolina Reeper!   Jon Reep Social Media: Facebook Twitter Instagram TikTok   Accent Imaging has your office Printers, Plotters, Printing, Graphics & Signs for your business.   Go try the Jon Un-REEP-eatable Burger at the Hickory Social House!   For gifts and more in the Hickory, NC area check out Goodwill Northwest NC!    Get you a Honda and a Hotdog at Hendrick Honda of Hickory!   Jon's pool was designed and built by True North Pools   Buy South in Ya Mouth BBQ Sauce here!    

A listener named John asks Father Dave about correct postures when receiving the Eucharist. “I've seen an increase of people kneeling to receive communion. I've heard Father Dave comment on this before, but I'm wondering if he can address this.” John begins. “Every week, our priest calls out people for leaving after communion [before Mass ends]. Why not correct those who kneel to receive when that's not an option given to us by the Church, when not in a traditional Latin Mass setting?”  

for 101 free kettlebell workouts visit http://www.101kettlebellworkouts.com  Get a copy of Strong ON! here: https://amzn.to/3G2NayY 

Read OnlineLifting up his eyes to heaven, Jesus prayed saying: “I pray not only for these, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me.”  John 17:20–21Over the past couple of weeks, we have been continually reading from Chapter 14–17 of John's Gospel. These chapters contain Jesus' Last Supper Discourses and provide us with Jesus' last sermon, so to speak. Chapter 17, which we have been reading this past week, presents us with Jesus' final prayer for His disciples and for all of us “who will believe” in Him through the preaching of the disciples. Each time we read from Chapter 17, the Lectionary begins the reading with the phrase “Lifting up his eyes to heaven, Jesus prayed saying…” That line is an adaptation of Chapter 17:1 but is used to introduce the various parts of the prayer of Jesus each time it is read at Mass.It's interesting that Jesus would look up to Heaven when He prayed. Of course, Heaven is not physically in the sky, because Heaven is a spiritual reality. The Father is not located in some place in the sky but is omnipresent, meaning, present all places and all times. And yet, Jesus raises His eyes upward when He prays to the Father. There is a great lesson in this.Our physical disposition is important, at times. For example, when someone we owe respect to enters a room, we usually rise and greet them. It would be disrespectful to remain lounging on a bed or sofa in that case. And at Mass, we do not sit back with legs crossed during the Consecration; rather, we kneel in adoration. And when we greet someone for the first time, we do not look at the floor; rather, we look them in the eyes.Jesus' act of “Lifting his eyes to heaven” was not done because He thought He might see the Father in the sky; rather, it was done out of respect and love and as a way of acknowledging the dignity of the Father. This should teach us about our own bodily disposition and the message we communicate to others, especially to God in prayer.When you pray, what do you do? Though you can pray at any time and while in any disposition, it is an excellent practice to speak to God not only by your words but also by the disposition you take. Kneeling, raising hands in prayer, falling prostrate before your Lord, sitting upright with attentiveness, etc., are all ways in which you communicate to God your love.Reflect, today, upon this image of Jesus praying. Gaze at how attentive He would have been as He lifted His sacred eyes upward as a physical gesture honoring the glorious, all-powerful Father in Heaven. Try to imagine Jesus' devotion, intensity, respect and burning love. Imitate this holy gesture of prayer and attentiveness to the Father and remind yourself of the importance of expressing your love in bodily form.My most holy Father in Heaven, I do join Your Son, Jesus, in lifting my eyes, my heart and my whole life to You in honor, love and respect. May I always be attentive to You and always show You the devotion due Your greatness. My dear Jesus, thank You for Your love of the Father in Heaven. Give me the grace I need to imitate You and Your perfect love in my life. Jesus, I trust in You.  El Greco, Public domain, via Wikimedia CommonsSource of content: catholic-daily-reflections.comCopyright © 2025 My Catholic Life! Inc. All rights reserved. Used with permission via RSS feed.

On today's 5.6.25 show we talked about the best hangover cures, Graham tells us about how his event turned out yesterday, the thing that people in Sweden are putting on their tacos, Met Gala looks and controversies, CHP is cracking down on sideshow activities, the number one thing moms want for Mother's Day, women are having less children, lab-grown T. rex leather is a thing, people think Sydney Sweeney's Met Gala look was not on theme, robot tries to attack a human and more!

Tonight's rundown: Hey BillOReilly.com Premium and Concierge Members, welcome to the No Spin News for Thursday, May 1, 2025. Stand Up for Your Country.  Talking Points Memo: Bill breaks down Wednesday night's Cuomo Town Hall on NewsNation. What is Kamala Harris talking about in her first speech since leaving office? Poll shows most 2024 voters would choose the same candidate again. The FBI has reassigned several agents who were photographed kneeling during Black Lives Matter protests in 2020.  After being dropped from the White House Correspondents' Dinner, anti-Trump comedian says she now feels "less welcome" in America. Final Thought: Don't miss Bill O'Reilly's special report 100 Days of Trump: Are You Better Off?, airing Friday, May 2 at 9/8c on NewsNation. Read Bill's latest column, Malaysia is Mad at Me Stand out from the crowd with our Not Woke baseball cap for just $28.95! Pre-order Bill's next book in the new Confronting Series, ‘Confronting Evil' NOW! Now's the time to get a Premium or Concierge Membership to BillOReilly.com, the only place for honest news analysis. In Case You Missed It: Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices