Podcasts about nodding

Fan Favorite: This episode originally aired on: March 2, 2022. What up, homies! It's your girl Lisa Bilyeu, and welcome back to the Women of Impact podcast, where we dive deep and come out stronger. Today, I'm beyond thrilled to bring you the incredible Vanessa Van Edwards, the charming citizen scientist on understanding people and reading cues like a pro. Guys, if you've ever found yourself blindsided on a date, at an interview, or any high-stakes situation feeling like, “What did I miss?” you've got to stick around because Vanessa is here to break it all down for us. Trust me, you won't want to miss a single word of this. We're diving headfirst into how decoding those tiny, invisible signals can make an epic difference in your life. This isn't just body language 101, folks—Vanessa is flipping it up and showing us how to become the cue masters of warmth and competence, to really connect with people and avoid those major ‘WTF just happened' moments. Ladies, you know I'm all about those tactical tips that we can start using right NOW. Whether you're trying to ace that job interview, land a second date, or just be more of a badass in your everyday interactions, Vanessa's got your back with super practical insight that'll leave you thinking, “Where was this information when I needed it?” SHOWNOTES 00:00 "Intelligence Blindness" 05:30 Activating Neural Maps with Props 07:34 Enhancing Imagery for Better Perception 10:50 Reading People While Listening 14:01 Criticism of Nodding in Videos 16:25 Engagement Cues in Communication 21:43 It's Okay to Not Be Okay 22:11 Understanding Lower Lid Flex 25:51 Questioning vs. Authoritative Voice Tone 29:52 "Siminoff's Shark Tank Entrance Mistake" 33:05 Unveiling Hidden Social Rules 35:11 Digital Intimacy and Awkwardness 40:04 Pitch Strategy: Entering the Shark Zone 43:07 Decoding Cues with Context & Clusters 45:29 Interpreting Nonverbal Cue Clusters 47:37 Contempt Predicts Divorce in Couples 50:55 "Creating Safe Spaces for Emotions" FOLLOW VANESSA VAN EDWARDS: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/vvanedwards/ Website: https://www.scienceofpeople.com/ YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCsTSS1Tf72qZJuFKaN0WA9g CHECK OUT OUR SPONSORS Vital Proteins: Get 20% off by going to https://www.vitalproteins.com and entering promo code WOI at check out.  BIOptimizers: Head to https://bioptimizers.com/impact and use code IMPACT for 10% off.  OneSkin: Get 15% off with code LISA at https://oneskin.co  Shopify: Sign up for your one-dollar-per-month trial period at https://shopify.com/lisa ********************************************************************** LISTEN TO WOMEN OF IMPACT AD FREE + BONUS EPISODES on APPLE PODCASTS:  apple.co/womenofimpact ********************************************************************** FOLLOW LISA: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lisabilyeu/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/lisabilyeu YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/womenofimpact Tik Tok: https://www.tiktok.com/@lisa_bilyeu?lang=en Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

How do we seek “the best gifts?” Professor Danny Ricks explores the Saints early days in Kirtland, the nature of spiritual gifts, and the importance of welcoming all to the Restored Church.SHOW NOTES/TRANSCRIPTSEnglish: https://tinyurl.com/podcastDC220ENFrench: https://tinyurl.com/podcastDC220FRGerman: https://tinyurl.com/podcastDC220DEPortuguese: https://tinyurl.com/podcastDC220PTSpanish: https://tinyurl.com/podcastDC220ESYOUTUBEhttps://youtu.be/SnhRyb_djHUALL EPISODES/SHOW NOTESfollowHIM website: https://www.followHIMpodcast.comFREE PDF DOWNLOADS OF followHIM QUOTE BOOKSNew Testament: https://tinyurl.com/PodcastNTBookOld Testament: https://tinyurl.com/PodcastOTBookWEEKLY NEWSLETTERhttps://tinyurl.com/followHIMnewsletterSOCIAL MEDIAInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/followHIMpodcastFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/followhimpodcastTIMECODE00:00 - Part 1 - Professor Danny Ricks04:10 Bio of Danny Ricks05:53 Come, Follow Me Manual09:53 Gifts of the Spirit and persecution12:29 Allowing all to attend13:50 D&C 46:3-6 - Could the Lord be clearer?14:50 D&C 35:17 - Jesus wants smokers, drinkers, and sexists.18:48 You had better follow the Holy Ghost21:34 Satan preys on Imposter Syndrome27:36 A bishop in overalls31:52 Meetings directed by the Spirit35:11 Gratitude is a cure-all39:17 Understanding comes with time42:51 Seeking spiritual gifts47:27 Administrative gifts 50:55 Elder Packer “Our Moral Environment”53:15 A spiritual autopsy55:47 The love of a comma59:13 Nodding at Nephi1:01:00 Given to believe1:03:41 Varieties of gifts1:07:17 End of Part I - Professor Danny RicksThanks to the followHIM team:Steve & Shannon Sorensen: Cofounder, Executive Producer, SponsorDavid & Verla Sorensen: SponsorsDr. Hank Smith: Co-hostJohn Bytheway: Co-hostDavid Perry: ProducerKyle Nelson: Marketing, SponsorLisa Spice: Client Relations, Editor, Show NotesJamie Neilson: Social Media, Graphic DesignWill Stoughton: Video EditorKrystal Roberts: Translation Team, English & French Transcripts, WebsiteAriel Cuadra: Spanish TranscriptsAmelia Kabwika: Portuguese TranscriptsHeather Barlow: Communications Director"Let Zion in Her Beauty Rise" by Marshall McDonaldhttps://www.marshallmcdonaldmusic.com

Hello everyone,Todays episode is called 'The Nodding Tiger' A Chinese Folk Tale. If you enjoy listening to these stories, please do leave an Apple review so we can grow and reach more people.Sweet Dreams. Lucy ❤

The boys discuss the tradition of head nodding, tradwives and the legend of the Flatwoods Monster

Hallo Freunde freue mich sehr euch heute eine neue Episode meiner Indie Dance The Mix Series präsentieren zu können... Diesmal mit Dj Vox Sinistra aus Los Angeles,USA. Viel Spaß Kurt Kjergaard Hello friends, I'm very happy to present you a new episode of my Indie Dance The Mix series today... This time with DJ Vox Sinistra from Los Angeles, United States. Enjoy, Kurt Kjergaard BIO Vox Sinistra is a Los Angeles-based DJ specializing in dark alternative dance music. With a style ranging from EBM and darkwave to dark techno, New Beat, electro, Italo disco and beyond, she combines a range of influences to sculpt retro-futuristic mixes for nonstop dance floor catharsis. Current host of club night, video podcast and record label Strict Tempo, she has cultivated a dark scene community sharing sounds from the underground to international audiences. Inspired by the sounds of the '80s gay club scene for this mix, she combines bombastic Italo disco synths and percussive hi-NRG stabs with an undercurrent of freestyle, EBM and New Beat. Nodding to the modern indie dance scene bringing these sounds back to life for new audiences, old-school edits are mixed with future classics. Bold, sassy and craveable is how she wants you to feel while listening.  LINKS Vox Sinistra SOUNDCLOUD https://soundcloud.com/voxsinistra LINKTREE https://linktr.ee/VoxSinistra

He agrees to be her ‘focus group' for demoing toys in the adult toy store. (fetish) By Norweger.  Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. ‘Can I help you?' I glanced aside from the colourful products on display right in front of me, blushing mildly. The shopkeeper had done the rounds, and I, being lost in thought in front of the ‘Toys; male, solo' shelf hadn't noticed her approaching. Well, I could hardly deny I was thinking of buying a Fleshlight, as I held one; well, a securely wrapped one, luckily; in my hands as I met her friendly gaze. ‘I, ah…' Fuck. Going to an adult toy shop shouldn't be embarrassing, should it? My cheeks and earlobes grew pretty pink. ‘Well, I'm just browsing, to be honest, I…'She nodded. 'Those are real good, by the way.' She giggled. ‘Well, good quality. Easy to keep clean. Rugged. For obvious reasons, I haven't taken one for a test drive myself.' I chuckled, feeling my awkwardness recede a bit. That's one way of putting it. ‘For obvious reasons…' I thought before answering ‘Well, I could hardly expect you to have, could I? That being said, shops like this are quite particular, no? Normally, asking the shopkeeper for recommendations and whether she'd used the product herself would be reasonable, but here, I guess it would get me me-too'd right away? How do you actually reply if someone holds up something and asks, well, is this one any good?' I smiled weakly while feeling my cheeks getting rosier again, hoping I hadn't overstepped any bounds. I got a chuckle for my trouble. ‘Well, please try to keep the exciting images out of your mind, but to tell you the truth, we do test quite a lot of the stuff we sell.' She blushed a little, herself. ‘Well, we must buy them, of course, though at a steep discount.' She turned her gaze down as the sentence trailed off, giving me a chance to look her over without being too obvious about it as the images she'd been warning me about started to manifest themselves to my inner eye. I guessed she could be in her early thirties, a few years younger than me. Quite cute, slender, narrow hips, a loose-fitting, turquoise sweater doing its best to hide her ample bosom… I'd already undressed her in my mind, trying to imagine her testing the huge dildos in the glass display cabinet right behind her. Oh no, I hadn't been blushing earlier. Now; NOW I was blushing. She lifted her gaze again and giggled. ‘Let me guess. Exciting images?' I could hardly deny it, and she could hardly take affront, either. I turned my own gaze down, intensely studying my rather rumpled leather boots. There was no way in hell I'd be able to meet her stare while saying it. ‘Oh, guilty as charged.' I made a helpless gesture with my arm towards the toys on display ‘I imagined both this and that, I'll admit.' ‘Well, there's a reason we don't have fitting rooms, you know!' Her giggle turned to a quick laugh which she stifled as quickly. I felt my mood rise just by hearing it; it had a chirping quality, sounded almost like a bird's cry. In improving spirits; and, frankly, quite turned on; this young, cute woman had more or less told me that she test ran a lot of the toys in the store. Now my eyes wandered around the room, desperate not to meet her stare, while every time I saw something titillating I imagined her using it on herself. Not that there was anything extraordinary about a woman in her thirties enjoying herself, but the mere thought, as she was standing two feet away from me… Fuck. I was rock hard. I hoped it wasn't too obvious. Here goes nothing. Had I first said A, I might as well say B, too. I felt a bit braver, thinking we could spin a bit on this, while still keeping it innocent. She looked amused, too. ‘That's kind of unfair, though, isn't it? Any woman walking into this store can get, ah, expert advice, whereas I, as a man, will have to take your word for it ‘Oh, this one is good; I haven't tried it, but it is good, believe me!' She laughed. Loud. ‘I swear to all that's holy, had we ever had a male shop assistant here, he'd be loaded down with all the male solo toys we could muster and be told to test the hell out of them; and take notes while he was at it!' She turned serious. ‘Wouldn't do you much good, though; I'd be most surprised if there's even a single man in town who'd casually ask another if that sex toy of his was any good or not.' I'd have to give her that. Chitchatting about sex did come a lot easier when I did it with a woman. ‘Just that. There's a reason we're all women working here,' she smiled. ‘Women sell better to both men and women than, say, a fifty-something, balding, pudgy male in a soiled T-shirt and sweat pants.' She chuckled. ‘Beg your pardon for letting my prejudices shine through, by the way.' I laughed out loud again, realizing I was getting close to asking her what she did once she'd closed shop; she had, in a few minutes since I'd become aware she even existed, shown herself to be one of those all too rare people who could get me in a good mood simply by being there; and that she could quip about sex and seemingly be at ease was an added bonus. Plus, of course, she was incredibly cute. I caught the warm, brown eyes peering out under her unruly mop of reddish hair, trying to come up with a suitable response before the silence became awkward or she trotted on through the shop, ending our moment. She glanced down at her watch, and my heart sank like a stone; opportunity wasted, I thought; until I heard what she had to say. ‘Look… Now I want you to be real careful; not getting the wrong idea as to what I am suggesting, okay? You are not going to have sex with me, capisce?' Well, she had my full and undivided attention, even if I wouldn't get to sleep with her. I nodded, firmly. No fucking her. OK. ‘I'm about to close shop, now. If you, ahem, would like to test the fleshlight before you buy it, you can do so, okay? But, you're going to have to buy it afterwards, obviously. The lube is on the house.' I gawked at her. Wow. I nodded, numbly. This couldn't be, could it? But I wouldn't want to miss this for the world. I nodded again, vigorously. She smiled a quick smile, then went to the entrance to lock the doors, glancing over her shoulder at me as she did so, throwing me another smile. Returning, she grabbed a bottle of lube from a shelf, and motioned for me to follow her as she walked past. As if I needed any prodding. ‘It'd probably be best to use our office, rather than have you go at it here under the bright lights,' she suggested softly. I just shrugged. I'd follow her anywhere. My cock was rather a simpleton. As we exited a door with a 'staff only' sign at the back of the shop, we entered the kind of storeroom you'll find somewhere in any shop in the world; shelves stocked with all kinds of goods, except… Well, these goods were very much adult toys. Darting past a crate packed to the gunwales with inflatable dolls; inflated!, she giggled ‘Meet last year's Christmas decorations; we couldn't sell them, but neither could we bring ourselves to throw them away…' I shook my head, dumbfounded. She nodded towards a green door near the corner of the storeroom ‘That's where you'll get to find out if the fleshlight is any good…' She opened the door, hinges groaning. ‘I've been meaning to grease those for ages, wonder if I can use this lube?' she mused as we entered a small-ish, run-down office. Lots of papers were covering just about any horizontal surface; a desk with a computer and a phone on it and a small coffee table in front of a battered old sofa tucked into a corner; piles of merchandise along the far wall. Nodding towards the sofa, she suggested I take a seat before seating herself on the office chair by the desk. ‘I hope you don't mind me watching. After all, I have a certain, um, professional interest in seeing how you get along with it, you know.', throwing me another smile; a warm, seemingly genuine one. She didn't appear to be wholly untouched, herself. I fumbled with the packaging. What sadist had invented welded plastic? Probably a good thing when it came to protecting sex toys on display, but when you were about to unwrap it to try it out? Not so much. My audience reached for a pair of scissors and motioned for me to lob her the fleshlight. ‘You get out of your jeans, I'll get this out, OK?' she suggested. I nodded, still not trusting my voice to bear. I hardly needed any more encouragement. I tugged at my belt, seconds later dropping my jeans to the floor, stepping out of them. My briefs were unceremoniously shoved down my thighs, and as I rose again, my almost painfully erect cock pointed arrogantly at the ceiling, the shopkeeper raising her eyebrows a little and giggling softly as she took the sight in while cutting open the packaging separating me from instant bliss. With a satisfied ‘Hah! Finally!' she pulled the fleshlight from its by now shredded plastic cover and reached over to hand it to me. I shamelessly ogled her cleavage before reverting to holding her gaze. ‘As I said, this is good shit. You won't be able to destroy this one during normal use…' She proceeded to explain how important it was to clean it after use, stressing that they had both suitable toy cleaner and disinfectant in the store. ‘Most gentle for the silicone, that stuff; unlike the dish soap most people tend to use…' Her sentence trailed off, apparently she got struck by the same thing I had; that this was an absurd time to discuss maintenance. ‘My apologies, I got a bit carried away. Here.' Accepting the toy, I glanced over at the bottle of lube perched on the edge of her desk. Turning around, she reached the bottle and spun back to present it to me. ‘There you go, put lots in the fleshlight, some around the entrance and a little on your johnson, and you're good to go.' Nodding, I did as she had suggested; an ample spurt of lube into the pale, pink thingy, then a little around the sculpted pussy lips. Bah, in a way it would have been better if they hadn't tried so hard to make it look like the real thing. ‘Seeing as you wanted my observations, I think it would have been better if it was just an opening, not modeled to look like a real pussy; you know, no matter how good this may turn out to be, it can't possibly compare to the real thing…' ‘Doh,' she exclaimed as she rolled her eyes. ‘I should have mentioned that, there's a neutral version, too; and, believe it or not, a few which are supposedly modeled after famous porn stars' pussies, whether you believe it or not. Anyway, they probably all feel the same; just look at something, anything else while you're using it.' I'd be lying if I claimed I thought it would matter much what it looked like once it was wrapped around me. Squirting a wee bit of lube in the palm of my hand, I stroked myself a couple of times, ensuring I got some on the purplish, swollen head, too; unless I slipped in unhindered, I'd be sore afterwards, of that I was certain. Positioning the fleshlight against the glans, I looked over at the shopkeeper. She stared back, eagerly anticipating my next move; not that she'd have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what that would be. Gently pressing the fleshlight towards me, I slid into my first silicone pussy. It was just tight enough to feel natural-ish, I'd hand the designers that; but it felt rather cold and, well, dead. ‘What's it like?' she asked, voice quivering slightly. ‘Oh, not too bad,' I replied ‘Though it does feel a bit cold and. ah, dead, if I may say so at the moment, but that should improve shortly…' Giving it a couple of strokes, I could already feel it begin to warm up. She raised her stare from my fleshlight-wrapped member to meet mine. ‘Fuck me, I really am not doing my job properly, now; I just remembered that the manufacturer recommend that you put it in warm water for a few minutes before use, precisely to avoid that corpse bride-feeling. My apologies.' I nodded. ‘That'd probably do the trick, I'm sure. However…'; I let it slide back and forth a few times, feeling the soft silicone caress my oh-so-erect cock; ‘it does feel really good, don't get me wrong; and it keeps getting warmer by the second!' Having said that, I stroked myself in silence for a few moments, slowly, deliberately; pulling it off me until my cock emerged from it, exposing the swollen, lube-glistening head for my very attentive audience, then shoving myself into it again. Oh yes, it felt better and better. While no one would ever mistake it for the real thing; well, no one who had ever had the good fortune to have the real thing wrapped around oneself, anyway; it definitely felt good, much better than a simple handjob. ‘It keeps getting better,' I grunted. ‘Would work better still if one could take it out of the casing, though; you know, to adjust the pressure, using it as a sleeve over my cock; would feel more alive, then.' She nodded. ‘I'll keep that in mind, in case someone asks. I believe you can take it out for cleaning, by the way; so you could probably, um, go au-naturel on it, if that's your preference.'; before again staring at my cock sliding in and out of the toy, mesmerised. I felt like I was being on display; quite naturally, seeing as that was just what I was; but caught myself enjoying it. My audience was really cute and sexy as hell; well, truth be told, I'd probably find even Margaret Thatcher hot as fuck if she had stared at my masturbating with that sultry look my watcher now sent me; but I digress. I was turned on, way beyond what I would have been had I been doing the deed at home, alone. I coughed softly, then slowing the pace a bit as I caught her stare again. ‘Uh, I know there won't be any actual sex, that's not what I'm fishing for now, but… Would you mind, ah, could I… Well, have a little glimpse of your charms? Some bare skin? Just to help me over the edge?' I must have looked like a pleading puppy, as she burst into laughter, luckily a good-natured one. After first shaking her head, she apparently had second thoughts and nodded. I swallowed. This intensely erotic moment was about to become even hotter. Grabbing the hem of her sweater, she pulled it over her head and revealed a black, low-cut bra and ample cleavage. Lovely, pillowy, full breasts. My pace picked up. ‘Don't you think about touching me, don't even reach for me, OK?' she said, sternly. I nodded, hoping I looked like I'd be true to my word. God knows how reliable one looks when masturbating to the sight of the girl asking you to keep your hands off her. She apparently found my promise good enough, and, after reaching behind her back for a second, the bra fell into her lap and her breasts swung free. I swallowed again, almost in disbelief. They were really beautiful; round, full and pillowy, large, but not so large as to be saggy; they proudly stood form her chest, slightly pear-shaped, milky white and crowned by the largest, weakly drawn areolas I'd ever seen, pale pink, crested with nipples looking as if you'd be able to cut glass with them, so hard were they. She was amazing, and I wasted no time telling her so as my cock hardened further still inside the silicone wrapper I was now doing my best to fuck the daylights out of while keeping my eyes locked on the shopkeeper, occasionally falling to her wonderful breasts, but mostly maintaining eye contact. She leant back in her chair, her breasts gently parting. My turn to be mesmerised. I could already feel the familiar tingling telling me my strokes were numbered and my orgasm forthcoming; I'd be done for shortly. The fleshlight was now at body temperature, and felt much, much more lifelike, albeit still no match for a woman, I grunted through clenched teeth ‘no muscles milking me, no body thrust against mine, no hands feverishly stroking over my back, hugging me close as orgasm approaches; but it does feel pretty… pretty damned good!' Nodding absentmindedly, she stroked a hand over her right breast, cupping it, then pinching her nipple between her thumb and index finger, moaning softly. ‘I'm about to cum,' I grunted, snapping her back to reality. ‘Oh, please do it in that one, huh?', she nodded to an empty mug on the table between us. ‘I want to see you cum.' I nodded, feverishly working my cock with the latest addition to my meagre sex toy collection. ‘Lean forward, please', I snapped ‘I want to see those lovely tits swaying under you…' Laughingly, she obliged, leaning forward, then rocking side to side. ‘Like this, huh?' she teased, smiling warmly at me as the heavy globes swayed back and forth under her. Yes. Just like that. There was no use trying to hold back. Two more strokes, and I could feel my orgasm erupting, a tad before I'd expected it to. And here I was, figuring I had it under control… I jerked the fleshlight off my cock, throwing it on the floor, sending spurt after spurt of cum over the table, grasping for the mug, missing, shooting another spurt halfway across the room towards her; at least it felt like it; before finally grabbing the mug and shooting the last, feeble spurt into it. I felt my earlobes glow with embarrassment as I came in for landing after the massive orgasm, only to see the mess I'd made; cum streaks over invoices, a pack of cigarettes, the table itself, a lighter… My companion laughed, totally losing it in a fit of laughter, her breasts jiggling as she shook ‘You should've seen yourself!!!', she eventually gasped, regaining some control over herself. ‘It was the most absurd sight I've ever seen, so incredibly hot, you in the midst of such an orgasm, frantically trying to grab my old mug…' I joined her, a bit hesitantly at first. It had indeed been comedy hour. I hoped there wasn't a surveillance camera here, for if it did, I'd be bound to find myself on some amateur blooper reel shortly. ‘Never mind, though,' she giggled. ‘I'll get that cleaned up in no time. Without getting her sweater back on, she left the room. Seconds later I heard the tell-tale sound of water pouring from a faucet and paper being torn from a roll. She returned, hand full of tissue paper, and handed me some. ‘Here, clean yourself up; then I'll show you how to clean your latest conquest afterwards.' She leaned in over the table and cleaned up any trace of my little indiscretion. I really had to fight the urge to reach out and touch the lovely form right in front of my eyes; but managed. I'd promised, after all; and I'd had a wonderful experience, I wouldn't want to ruin it by doing anything which might scare or offend her in any way. I leaned back in the sofa while cleaning most of the lube off my semi-erect cock, softly caressing it as I stared hungrily at her, finishing up the table. I followed her to the cupboard next to the office; standing close to her; still dressed like Venus of Milo, only with arms; in the tiny room, I could feel the warmth of her body against mine as she fumbled the fleshlight open, taking out the silicone innards. ‘Just hold it under lukewarm water, first, to get rid of your cum and the lube, then wipe it clean with a little bit of the toy cleaner I'll give you when we're back in the shop and it'll be ready for its next outing.' She glanced up at me, noting my attention was on her, rather than on the most useful instructions she were supplying. ‘Better leave it outside its sheath overnight to allow it to dry properly,' she said. ‘Well, unless you find you prefer to use just the inner sleeve, of course.' Quick smile. With that, she handed the toy back to me. ‘Just head back out in the shop, you. I'll be with you in a minute, just need to get dressed.' I was treated to a smile too cute to be believed, and I was bright enough not to overstay my welcome by asking for just a few more glimpses of her. I threw a last, longing glance at her beautiful, curvy shape, met her gaze; a rather lustful one at that!; and smiled at her. ‘I'll do some window shopping, then, see if I find more playthings catching my fancy.' I then turned and briskly headed back into the shop, again passing the surreal pile of inflatable dolls, one still sporting a santa's cap. She sure took her time getting dressed; I imagined she'd figured she needed a release, too. Hell, yeah - when she appeared in the door from the storeroom, she was still basking in that wonderful post-orgasmic bliss you can spot from a mile away. ‘Getting a bit carried away, are we?' I quipped in a mock stern tone. ‘How professional is it really to masturbate in the rear while there's customers waiting in the shop, huh?' She smiled sheepishly. ‘Busted. Fuck, I was so horny while you did your thing I almost leapt at you!' I laughed. ‘Glad to hear you enjoyed yourself, too; and with any luck you now know a bit more about, ah; your inventory?' She giggles. ‘Sure do, I can't wait until the next time some sod comes by, cheekily suggesting I can't possibly know how this one feels…' She worked the till. ‘I'm giving you this at a discount,' she laughed. ‘It is the first time I've ever sold a used toy. The lube and cleaner is on the house, promise me you'll take good care of your new friend!' I promised, and took my chances embracing her briefly. ‘Mind if I come back for some more shopping sometime?' I asked, voice thick with lust. She looked at me, quizzically, then shrugged. ‘Well, I happen to have another couple of toys which I could use some user feedback on…' she suggested with a smile. ‘I'll be back in a couple of weeks,' I said by way of goodbye. Heading for the doors, I realised I'd be pounding the fleshlight again seconds after returning home. I was already hard again… By Norweger for Literotica

He agrees to be her ‘focus group' for demoing toys in the adult toy store. (fetish) By Norweger.  Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. ‘Can I help you?' I glanced aside from the colourful products on display right in front of me, blushing mildly. The shopkeeper had done the rounds, and I, being lost in thought in front of the ‘Toys; male, solo' shelf hadn't noticed her approaching. Well, I could hardly deny I was thinking of buying a Fleshlight, as I held one; well, a securely wrapped one, luckily; in my hands as I met her friendly gaze. ‘I, ah…' Fuck. Going to an adult toy shop shouldn't be embarrassing, should it? My cheeks and earlobes grew pretty pink. ‘Well, I'm just browsing, to be honest, I…'She nodded. 'Those are real good, by the way.' She giggled. ‘Well, good quality. Easy to keep clean. Rugged. For obvious reasons, I haven't taken one for a test drive myself.' I chuckled, feeling my awkwardness recede a bit. That's one way of putting it. ‘For obvious reasons…' I thought before answering ‘Well, I could hardly expect you to have, could I? That being said, shops like this are quite particular, no? Normally, asking the shopkeeper for recommendations and whether she'd used the product herself would be reasonable, but here, I guess it would get me me-too'd right away? How do you actually reply if someone holds up something and asks, well, is this one any good?' I smiled weakly while feeling my cheeks getting rosier again, hoping I hadn't overstepped any bounds. I got a chuckle for my trouble. ‘Well, please try to keep the exciting images out of your mind, but to tell you the truth, we do test quite a lot of the stuff we sell.' She blushed a little, herself. ‘Well, we must buy them, of course, though at a steep discount.' She turned her gaze down as the sentence trailed off, giving me a chance to look her over without being too obvious about it as the images she'd been warning me about started to manifest themselves to my inner eye. I guessed she could be in her early thirties, a few years younger than me. Quite cute, slender, narrow hips, a loose-fitting, turquoise sweater doing its best to hide her ample bosom… I'd already undressed her in my mind, trying to imagine her testing the huge dildos in the glass display cabinet right behind her. Oh no, I hadn't been blushing earlier. Now; NOW I was blushing. She lifted her gaze again and giggled. ‘Let me guess. Exciting images?' I could hardly deny it, and she could hardly take affront, either. I turned my own gaze down, intensely studying my rather rumpled leather boots. There was no way in hell I'd be able to meet her stare while saying it. ‘Oh, guilty as charged.' I made a helpless gesture with my arm towards the toys on display ‘I imagined both this and that, I'll admit.' ‘Well, there's a reason we don't have fitting rooms, you know!' Her giggle turned to a quick laugh which she stifled as quickly. I felt my mood rise just by hearing it; it had a chirping quality, sounded almost like a bird's cry. In improving spirits; and, frankly, quite turned on; this young, cute woman had more or less told me that she test ran a lot of the toys in the store. Now my eyes wandered around the room, desperate not to meet her stare, while every time I saw something titillating I imagined her using it on herself. Not that there was anything extraordinary about a woman in her thirties enjoying herself, but the mere thought, as she was standing two feet away from me… Fuck. I was rock hard. I hoped it wasn't too obvious. Here goes nothing. Had I first said A, I might as well say B, too. I felt a bit braver, thinking we could spin a bit on this, while still keeping it innocent. She looked amused, too. ‘That's kind of unfair, though, isn't it? Any woman walking into this store can get, ah, expert advice, whereas I, as a man, will have to take your word for it ‘Oh, this one is good; I haven't tried it, but it is good, believe me!' She laughed. Loud. ‘I swear to all that's holy, had we ever had a male shop assistant here, he'd be loaded down with all the male solo toys we could muster and be told to test the hell out of them; and take notes while he was at it!' She turned serious. ‘Wouldn't do you much good, though; I'd be most surprised if there's even a single man in town who'd casually ask another if that sex toy of his was any good or not.' I'd have to give her that. Chitchatting about sex did come a lot easier when I did it with a woman. ‘Just that. There's a reason we're all women working here,' she smiled. ‘Women sell better to both men and women than, say, a fifty-something, balding, pudgy male in a soiled T-shirt and sweat pants.' She chuckled. ‘Beg your pardon for letting my prejudices shine through, by the way.' I laughed out loud again, realizing I was getting close to asking her what she did once she'd closed shop; she had, in a few minutes since I'd become aware she even existed, shown herself to be one of those all too rare people who could get me in a good mood simply by being there; and that she could quip about sex and seemingly be at ease was an added bonus. Plus, of course, she was incredibly cute. I caught the warm, brown eyes peering out under her unruly mop of reddish hair, trying to come up with a suitable response before the silence became awkward or she trotted on through the shop, ending our moment. She glanced down at her watch, and my heart sank like a stone; opportunity wasted, I thought; until I heard what she had to say. ‘Look… Now I want you to be real careful; not getting the wrong idea as to what I am suggesting, okay? You are not going to have sex with me, capisce?' Well, she had my full and undivided attention, even if I wouldn't get to sleep with her. I nodded, firmly. No fucking her. OK. ‘I'm about to close shop, now. If you, ahem, would like to test the fleshlight before you buy it, you can do so, okay? But, you're going to have to buy it afterwards, obviously. The lube is on the house.' I gawked at her. Wow. I nodded, numbly. This couldn't be, could it? But I wouldn't want to miss this for the world. I nodded again, vigorously. She smiled a quick smile, then went to the entrance to lock the doors, glancing over her shoulder at me as she did so, throwing me another smile. Returning, she grabbed a bottle of lube from a shelf, and motioned for me to follow her as she walked past. As if I needed any prodding. ‘It'd probably be best to use our office, rather than have you go at it here under the bright lights,' she suggested softly. I just shrugged. I'd follow her anywhere. My cock was rather a simpleton. As we exited a door with a 'staff only' sign at the back of the shop, we entered the kind of storeroom you'll find somewhere in any shop in the world; shelves stocked with all kinds of goods, except… Well, these goods were very much adult toys. Darting past a crate packed to the gunwales with inflatable dolls; inflated!, she giggled ‘Meet last year's Christmas decorations; we couldn't sell them, but neither could we bring ourselves to throw them away…' I shook my head, dumbfounded. She nodded towards a green door near the corner of the storeroom ‘That's where you'll get to find out if the fleshlight is any good…' She opened the door, hinges groaning. ‘I've been meaning to grease those for ages, wonder if I can use this lube?' she mused as we entered a small-ish, run-down office. Lots of papers were covering just about any horizontal surface; a desk with a computer and a phone on it and a small coffee table in front of a battered old sofa tucked into a corner; piles of merchandise along the far wall. Nodding towards the sofa, she suggested I take a seat before seating herself on the office chair by the desk. ‘I hope you don't mind me watching. After all, I have a certain, um, professional interest in seeing how you get along with it, you know.', throwing me another smile; a warm, seemingly genuine one. She didn't appear to be wholly untouched, herself. I fumbled with the packaging. What sadist had invented welded plastic? Probably a good thing when it came to protecting sex toys on display, but when you were about to unwrap it to try it out? Not so much. My audience reached for a pair of scissors and motioned for me to lob her the fleshlight. ‘You get out of your jeans, I'll get this out, OK?' she suggested. I nodded, still not trusting my voice to bear. I hardly needed any more encouragement. I tugged at my belt, seconds later dropping my jeans to the floor, stepping out of them. My briefs were unceremoniously shoved down my thighs, and as I rose again, my almost painfully erect cock pointed arrogantly at the ceiling, the shopkeeper raising her eyebrows a little and giggling softly as she took the sight in while cutting open the packaging separating me from instant bliss. With a satisfied ‘Hah! Finally!' she pulled the fleshlight from its by now shredded plastic cover and reached over to hand it to me. I shamelessly ogled her cleavage before reverting to holding her gaze. ‘As I said, this is good shit. You won't be able to destroy this one during normal use…' She proceeded to explain how important it was to clean it after use, stressing that they had both suitable toy cleaner and disinfectant in the store. ‘Most gentle for the silicone, that stuff; unlike the dish soap most people tend to use…' Her sentence trailed off, apparently she got struck by the same thing I had; that this was an absurd time to discuss maintenance. ‘My apologies, I got a bit carried away. Here.' Accepting the toy, I glanced over at the bottle of lube perched on the edge of her desk. Turning around, she reached the bottle and spun back to present it to me. ‘There you go, put lots in the fleshlight, some around the entrance and a little on your johnson, and you're good to go.' Nodding, I did as she had suggested; an ample spurt of lube into the pale, pink thingy, then a little around the sculpted pussy lips. Bah, in a way it would have been better if they hadn't tried so hard to make it look like the real thing. ‘Seeing as you wanted my observations, I think it would have been better if it was just an opening, not modeled to look like a real pussy; you know, no matter how good this may turn out to be, it can't possibly compare to the real thing…' ‘Doh,' she exclaimed as she rolled her eyes. ‘I should have mentioned that, there's a neutral version, too; and, believe it or not, a few which are supposedly modeled after famous porn stars' pussies, whether you believe it or not. Anyway, they probably all feel the same; just look at something, anything else while you're using it.' I'd be lying if I claimed I thought it would matter much what it looked like once it was wrapped around me. Squirting a wee bit of lube in the palm of my hand, I stroked myself a couple of times, ensuring I got some on the purplish, swollen head, too; unless I slipped in unhindered, I'd be sore afterwards, of that I was certain. Positioning the fleshlight against the glans, I looked over at the shopkeeper. She stared back, eagerly anticipating my next move; not that she'd have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what that would be. Gently pressing the fleshlight towards me, I slid into my first silicone pussy. It was just tight enough to feel natural-ish, I'd hand the designers that; but it felt rather cold and, well, dead. ‘What's it like?' she asked, voice quivering slightly. ‘Oh, not too bad,' I replied ‘Though it does feel a bit cold and. ah, dead, if I may say so at the moment, but that should improve shortly…' Giving it a couple of strokes, I could already feel it begin to warm up. She raised her stare from my fleshlight-wrapped member to meet mine. ‘Fuck me, I really am not doing my job properly, now; I just remembered that the manufacturer recommend that you put it in warm water for a few minutes before use, precisely to avoid that corpse bride-feeling. My apologies.' I nodded. ‘That'd probably do the trick, I'm sure. However…'; I let it slide back and forth a few times, feeling the soft silicone caress my oh-so-erect cock; ‘it does feel really good, don't get me wrong; and it keeps getting warmer by the second!' Having said that, I stroked myself in silence for a few moments, slowly, deliberately; pulling it off me until my cock emerged from it, exposing the swollen, lube-glistening head for my very attentive audience, then shoving myself into it again. Oh yes, it felt better and better. While no one would ever mistake it for the real thing; well, no one who had ever had the good fortune to have the real thing wrapped around oneself, anyway; it definitely felt good, much better than a simple handjob. ‘It keeps getting better,' I grunted. ‘Would work better still if one could take it out of the casing, though; you know, to adjust the pressure, using it as a sleeve over my cock; would feel more alive, then.' She nodded. ‘I'll keep that in mind, in case someone asks. I believe you can take it out for cleaning, by the way; so you could probably, um, go au-naturel on it, if that's your preference.'; before again staring at my cock sliding in and out of the toy, mesmerised. I felt like I was being on display; quite naturally, seeing as that was just what I was; but caught myself enjoying it. My audience was really cute and sexy as hell; well, truth be told, I'd probably find even Margaret Thatcher hot as fuck if she had stared at my masturbating with that sultry look my watcher now sent me; but I digress. I was turned on, way beyond what I would have been had I been doing the deed at home, alone. I coughed softly, then slowing the pace a bit as I caught her stare again. ‘Uh, I know there won't be any actual sex, that's not what I'm fishing for now, but… Would you mind, ah, could I… Well, have a little glimpse of your charms? Some bare skin? Just to help me over the edge?' I must have looked like a pleading puppy, as she burst into laughter, luckily a good-natured one. After first shaking her head, she apparently had second thoughts and nodded. I swallowed. This intensely erotic moment was about to become even hotter. Grabbing the hem of her sweater, she pulled it over her head and revealed a black, low-cut bra and ample cleavage. Lovely, pillowy, full breasts. My pace picked up. ‘Don't you think about touching me, don't even reach for me, OK?' she said, sternly. I nodded, hoping I looked like I'd be true to my word. God knows how reliable one looks when masturbating to the sight of the girl asking you to keep your hands off her. She apparently found my promise good enough, and, after reaching behind her back for a second, the bra fell into her lap and her breasts swung free. I swallowed again, almost in disbelief. They were really beautiful; round, full and pillowy, large, but not so large as to be saggy; they proudly stood form her chest, slightly pear-shaped, milky white and crowned by the largest, weakly drawn areolas I'd ever seen, pale pink, crested with nipples looking as if you'd be able to cut glass with them, so hard were they. She was amazing, and I wasted no time telling her so as my cock hardened further still inside the silicone wrapper I was now doing my best to fuck the daylights out of while keeping my eyes locked on the shopkeeper, occasionally falling to her wonderful breasts, but mostly maintaining eye contact. She leant back in her chair, her breasts gently parting. My turn to be mesmerised. I could already feel the familiar tingling telling me my strokes were numbered and my orgasm forthcoming; I'd be done for shortly. The fleshlight was now at body temperature, and felt much, much more lifelike, albeit still no match for a woman, I grunted through clenched teeth ‘no muscles milking me, no body thrust against mine, no hands feverishly stroking over my back, hugging me close as orgasm approaches; but it does feel pretty… pretty damned good!' Nodding absentmindedly, she stroked a hand over her right breast, cupping it, then pinching her nipple between her thumb and index finger, moaning softly. ‘I'm about to cum,' I grunted, snapping her back to reality. ‘Oh, please do it in that one, huh?', she nodded to an empty mug on the table between us. ‘I want to see you cum.' I nodded, feverishly working my cock with the latest addition to my meagre sex toy collection. ‘Lean forward, please', I snapped ‘I want to see those lovely tits swaying under you…' Laughingly, she obliged, leaning forward, then rocking side to side. ‘Like this, huh?' she teased, smiling warmly at me as the heavy globes swayed back and forth under her. Yes. Just like that. There was no use trying to hold back. Two more strokes, and I could feel my orgasm erupting, a tad before I'd expected it to. And here I was, figuring I had it under control… I jerked the fleshlight off my cock, throwing it on the floor, sending spurt after spurt of cum over the table, grasping for the mug, missing, shooting another spurt halfway across the room towards her; at least it felt like it; before finally grabbing the mug and shooting the last, feeble spurt into it. I felt my earlobes glow with embarrassment as I came in for landing after the massive orgasm, only to see the mess I'd made; cum streaks over invoices, a pack of cigarettes, the table itself, a lighter… My companion laughed, totally losing it in a fit of laughter, her breasts jiggling as she shook ‘You should've seen yourself!!!', she eventually gasped, regaining some control over herself. ‘It was the most absurd sight I've ever seen, so incredibly hot, you in the midst of such an orgasm, frantically trying to grab my old mug…' I joined her, a bit hesitantly at first. It had indeed been comedy hour. I hoped there wasn't a surveillance camera here, for if it did, I'd be bound to find myself on some amateur blooper reel shortly. ‘Never mind, though,' she giggled. ‘I'll get that cleaned up in no time. Without getting her sweater back on, she left the room. Seconds later I heard the tell-tale sound of water pouring from a faucet and paper being torn from a roll. She returned, hand full of tissue paper, and handed me some. ‘Here, clean yourself up; then I'll show you how to clean your latest conquest afterwards.' She leaned in over the table and cleaned up any trace of my little indiscretion. I really had to fight the urge to reach out and touch the lovely form right in front of my eyes; but managed. I'd promised, after all; and I'd had a wonderful experience, I wouldn't want to ruin it by doing anything which might scare or offend her in any way. I leaned back in the sofa while cleaning most of the lube off my semi-erect cock, softly caressing it as I stared hungrily at her, finishing up the table. I followed her to the cupboard next to the office; standing close to her; still dressed like Venus of Milo, only with arms; in the tiny room, I could feel the warmth of her body against mine as she fumbled the fleshlight open, taking out the silicone innards. ‘Just hold it under lukewarm water, first, to get rid of your cum and the lube, then wipe it clean with a little bit of the toy cleaner I'll give you when we're back in the shop and it'll be ready for its next outing.' She glanced up at me, noting my attention was on her, rather than on the most useful instructions she were supplying. ‘Better leave it outside its sheath overnight to allow it to dry properly,' she said. ‘Well, unless you find you prefer to use just the inner sleeve, of course.' Quick smile. With that, she handed the toy back to me. ‘Just head back out in the shop, you. I'll be with you in a minute, just need to get dressed.' I was treated to a smile too cute to be believed, and I was bright enough not to overstay my welcome by asking for just a few more glimpses of her. I threw a last, longing glance at her beautiful, curvy shape, met her gaze; a rather lustful one at that!; and smiled at her. ‘I'll do some window shopping, then, see if I find more playthings catching my fancy.' I then turned and briskly headed back into the shop, again passing the surreal pile of inflatable dolls, one still sporting a santa's cap. She sure took her time getting dressed; I imagined she'd figured she needed a release, too. Hell, yeah - when she appeared in the door from the storeroom, she was still basking in that wonderful post-orgasmic bliss you can spot from a mile away. ‘Getting a bit carried away, are we?' I quipped in a mock stern tone. ‘How professional is it really to masturbate in the rear while there's customers waiting in the shop, huh?' She smiled sheepishly. ‘Busted. Fuck, I was so horny while you did your thing I almost leapt at you!' I laughed. ‘Glad to hear you enjoyed yourself, too; and with any luck you now know a bit more about, ah; your inventory?' She giggles. ‘Sure do, I can't wait until the next time some sod comes by, cheekily suggesting I can't possibly know how this one feels…' She worked the till. ‘I'm giving you this at a discount,' she laughed. ‘It is the first time I've ever sold a used toy. The lube and cleaner is on the house, promise me you'll take good care of your new friend!' I promised, and took my chances embracing her briefly. ‘Mind if I come back for some more shopping sometime?' I asked, voice thick with lust. She looked at me, quizzically, then shrugged. ‘Well, I happen to have another couple of toys which I could use some user feedback on…' she suggested with a smile. ‘I'll be back in a couple of weeks,' I said by way of goodbye. Heading for the doors, I realised I'd be pounding the fleshlight again seconds after returning home. I was already hard again… By Norweger for Literotica

What do you think your purpose is? Ben's trying to figure out his purpose as he searches for a new job. Find out how God made you for a purpose!

Two pairs of men on two very different journeys. Both, however, feature curious endings. Order the official Cabinet of Curiosities book by clicking here today, and get ready to enjoy some curious reading!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Not the welcome we expectedWhen your tour guide is an assassin, what can go wrong?By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.You can do wrong while trying to do right.FlashbackAlal's 'milk of human kindness' had finally run dry as the Visigoths sacked his Roman villa. While looters ran off with his latest trappings of wealth, and deserted by his servants and his slaves, Grandpa decided that he was tired of fucking around with the Human Race. He felt they were simply too stupid, venal and weak to make any positive, lasting changes in the world.Alal decided that he was going to make the key choices for them. Fuck free will. Fuck letting the vermin that floated to the top of the cesspool destroy everything good in the world, as he had witnessed them doing time and time again. He had lost count of the monuments destroyed, histories of peoples forgotten and benefits to mankind burned away by barbarism and ignorance.By the fading light of August the 26th, 410 CE, Alal found himself sitting back in the pergola (a sort of mini-gazebo) in his rear gardens, drinking through several amphora of wine all the while having a deep philosophical debate with the several dozen very dead Goths decorating his environs.As three or four looters would enter the garden, he would kill them. And then three or four more would show up looking for the earlier group,, on and on. This reinforced Alal's belief that something drastic had to be done. He seriously considered going to the coast, getting a ship and five solid stone anchors. He'd sail out two days, maybe three, wrap himself in the anchors and jump overboard.The problem, as he saw it, was that given a few decades, the ropes would rot and he'd bob to the surface to see again that none of the fundamentals had changed. Further complicating his current thinking was that every time he came close to throwing in the cosmic towel, some more GOD DAMN GOTHS would come around, calling for their buddies, the dead ones. Somewhere around noon on August the 27th, Alal vowed that he was tired of this shit.Right on cue, around twenty Goths came strolling through the rear of his villa and soaked up the carnage out back. Fifty-two of their brethren were in various states of dismemberment and defilement (Alal had been, as usual, angry). They saw this dark-skinned Roman and rightly asked 'where's the army that killed these fellows?' He walked up to them in his wine-splashed toga."Are you the one in charge?" he asked the meanest looking Visigoth in passible Goth."I am," the leader responded. With lightning speed, he killed the man with his own sword. The Germans weren't sure what to make of that, it had happened so fast."You can join me," Alal indicated himself, "or you can join him," he indicated the corpse of their former leader. He had his new band of followers and the rest was Illuminati history.End FlashbackFor me, this meant more to me than living with the memories of a very bitter, driven and pitiless man. Alal was essentially the anti-me. It gave me chills to realize that all of Alal's gifts were bestowed on me with a purpose. I knew it was part of his greater plan. Normally, to end-run an evil genius, you just find him and kill him. Not only would Alal not stay dead, I now knew how well he could fight.I knew only four people who might be in his league, and I wasn't one of them. Of the four, Sakuniyas wasn't likely to help Pamela, Saint Marie and Elsa get the job done. That meant I had to rev up the deception engine to comfort my Aunts with hope, while dispelling the knowledge of how little they mattered to their sire. Almost as bad, I had to ignore what horribly people they were while extending that portion of my soul.It was with some relief that I hugged, kissed, and forcefully separated myself from the Aunts in Dublin. We were going on to Budapest's Ferenc Liszt International Airport. My next action was to make my request to Selena for a contract with the Ghost Tigers to defend Hana when she arrived in Russia. (Of the three 9 Clan Assassin-Babes, Selena was the least impressed with me.) She informed me that the Ghost Tigers didn't do bodyguard work. I still wanted her to relay my request, so she relented. After that, I passed out.We left Dublin around 9:30 am Friday morning and landed in Budapest at 1:45 pm., still Friday. As Rachel rousted me so I could grab a quick shower before touchdown, I was gifted with the misconceptions of my fellow travelers:To put it nicely, Riki thought I was somewhat revolting, Virginia was disturbed and Chaz had lowered his opinion of my moral character. It was the incest thing. Vincent being polite was a pleasant surprise, Delilah's camaraderie less so and Odette was peaches with my most recent sexcapades. She was far too good to me. The Amazons uniformly didn't give a crap."So, is there going to be any other bizarre behavior we should be prepared for?" Riki sat down next to me as I was drying my hair. I was back to my 'jeans, t-shirt and wind-breaker' style."Fine, " I said loudly. "It is really none of your business what I did with and to my mother's clones. Yes, they are all clones of my mother, who died when I was seven." A lie."They are also the genetic creations of my grandfather, also known by many as Cáel O'Shea. They are sterile, they are wickedly evil, and two weeks ago I didn't know they existed. I do have a real aunt in Maryland. She's my Father's sister and is not part of the menagerie. Oh yeah, my grandpa is currently a disembodied spirit, back from the Netherworld and looking for a body to take over, if he hasn't found one already," I added."He was born roughly five thousand years ago, was cursed by an ancient Sumerian Goddess such that he can never just die and stay dead. I have his memories running around my head, which, along with denying me a good night's sleep, allows me to speak an assortment of languages, use virtually every weapon built before 1970 and know that he is a vicious criminal mastermind the likes of which you've never imagined outside of fiction.How does that sound, Riki? Shall I get more bizarre? Trust me, I can," I regarded her evenly. She was speechless, but not out of awe. No, she was certain that I was completely unhinged."Everyone who believes Cáel, raise their hand," Odette demanded. Her hand went up. Odette and the Amazons agreeing was expected by the outsiders. Delilah and Virginia joining in was not."Captain Fairchild?" Colour Sgt. Chaz Tomorrow requested clarification."You've all seen those five O'Shea's that left the plane in Ireland. Barring some cosmetic changes, they were the exact same woman. You can either go with Sean Connery's Tak-ne creating a female clone army, or you can believe there is an otherworldly plastic surgeon altering a cadre of super-rich bitches to all look alike," Delilah, who was a captain of something, put out there."Who in the Hell is Tak-ne?" Riki mumbled."Duh," I poked the State Department lassie. "Connor MacLeod's Egyptian mentor in Highlander, the original movie and in the less than stellar sequel, Highlander: The Quickening"."You are mistaken. Connery was that Spanish guy," Riki poked me back."Actually, the relevant quote is: 'I am Juan Sánchez Villalobos Ramírez, Chief metallurgist to King Charles V of Spain. And I'm at your service'," Vincent regaled us with his movie trivia. "He later reveals that he was born Tak-ne in Egypt in the 9th century BCE. Also, his Spanish name makes no sense, he has one too many surnames.""Agent Loire, I am beginning to find intelligent men to be attractive," Charlotte said."Umm, thank you," Vincent responded warily."This might be a good point to get something clear," Chaz inquired. "Mr. Nyilas, whose side are you on? It appears to be rather complicated.""Okay, Chaz, call me Cáel. Calling me Mr. Nyilas makes me miss my dad. I can also be addressed as Cáel 'Wakko' Ishara, Head of House Ishara of the First Twenty Houses of the Amazon Host. Or, you can call me what the Great Khan does, Magyarorszag es Erdely Hercege. Finally, those who love me, or find me amusing, may call me Fehér mén."Selena's snort indicated she'd failed to hide her amusement at my presumptiveness, both titular and physically."Do you want to explain what's so amusing?" Riki looked over to the Black Hand assassin."Your job should be exceptionally easy now," Selena mocked me, "Prince of Hungry and Transylvania, or do you prefer 'White Stud'?""Laugh while you can, Monkey-Girl," I sneered. "The guy currently making a run at erasing seven hundred years of Asian history gave me that title. As for Fehér mén, that means 'White Stallion' and is symbolic of my ties to House Epona, not a phallic reference." Riki's look had gone from disgust, to anger (because she thought she was being played) and lastly, to shock."No," I interpreted her fear. "I am not here as some vanguard to unite the Magyar people to their cultural kinfolk in Central Asia. If you know your Central European history, you might recall that the Mongols devastated my homeland. For the next 450 years, the Turks were unwelcome visitors, conquerors and overlords. My princely status is a pat on the head for a job well done and nothing more.""What job did you do?" Riki prodded."I saved a man's life," I looked pained to admit. She didn't get it."It must have been a major VIPs life," Chaz suggested."You can say that," Pamela nodded. "End of discussion time too."At Ferenc Liszt International, we were diverted to a private hangar once more, courtesy of the Republic of Ireland's diplomatic umbrella. Three grey Ford Focuses and a white panel truck advertising a furniture repair store awaited us. Security issues were immediately obvious. They wanted to separate us (in the Fords) from most of our luggage (in the truck).The five guy welcoming party hid under the cloak of 'don't speak any language you claim to speak' and Selena was of zip help. So, I spoke to them in Hungarian. They glanced my way, but didn't respond. Serbian? Nope. Romanian? Nope."Bows and doves," I commanded.That translated rather logically as 'guns/bows' and 'phones/doves'. Out came our pistols. The only Black Hand to react fast enough was Selena and Pamela had her covered. The Amazons were aiming at the locals while Delilah and Chaz had their weapons out and scanning. Vincent and Virginia hadn't been fast enough, this time. They also didn't have guns pointed at them.The lead BH flunky began talking calmly in German, heavily Slavic accented German."What do you think you are doing?" he inquired of me, in German."Disarming you, ya Moron," I grumbled. Then added in Hittite; "Go", and in my Amazons went to very roughly search, disarm and de-phone our not so friendly friends."Alright, gather up your luggage," I called out to my group. "We are walking to town." That wasn't truly accurate. There was a metro associated with the airport, a kilometer away max. Our guides didn't speak English so they were rather surprised when the bags came out of the truck and were distributed to their owners. Riki Martin and Odette were in some trouble.Girls and 'only packing the necessities', Well, we had some diplomatic lumber to toss at the security services, Vincent had web-searched our location and the route we needed to take to the metro, and Delilah had purchased week-long public transport passes for the group. Only when we started marching out of the hangar did the BH comprehend the totality of their error.The five guys in the hangar were chattering away, in Hungarian, and Selena was peeved."You are upsetting my superiors by blatantly disrespecting their courtesy," she reminded me. "They have guaranteed your safety.""Less than a day has passed since the shootout in London, Selena," I countered."This is the Black Hand's backyard," Selena persisted, "not London.""So, you are only going to help us if we do stupid shit we wouldn't do, even on our own home ground, is that it?" I chuckled. "Sweet," then, to my people, "I guess we are on our own."The airport security guards didn't know what to make of our group of over-worked Sherpa, but the US State department and the RoI (Republic of Ireland) vouched for us, so they let us pass.We hadn't taken the cars and the truck because that would have been theft. The confiscated guns and phones had been disassembled and tossed into a large iron drum of used aviation lubricant. Odette began shopping around for hotel reservations (I was carrying most of her gear). She was the logical choice because she sounded the most human of the bunch.Selena called her people back, explained the fuck up and engaged in a mutual ass-chewing that spilled over a half-dozen languages and ended up with Dick-head, the local BH chieftain providing us with quarters that would turn a blind eye to our arsenal. With that address in mind, we made for the bowels of modern Budapest.Dutifully, Riki contacted the US Embassy to Hungary's CIA mission head and Chargé D' Affaires, a.i., updating them on our arrival and movements. At the last moment, I had Riki relay the wrong address, on a paranoid hunch. I was right to be paranoid except I was looking in the wrong direction.We had just disembarked at the Kőbánya-Kispest M3 station when we walked into the rolling ambush. A 'rolling ambush' is like a meeting engagement, the difference being that one side (ours) is on the move, not knowing it is being hunted while the other side (our attackers) was rushing to catch up with us, not knowing where along the path they would find us.As we preparing to transition from the station to the attached terminal, looking for the bus line that would connect us to the BH safe house in the Kőbánya (X) District, our attackers were dismounting their vehicles from across the street as well as to our left and right. They were dressed like cops. Had they been armed like cops,"Oh look," I snickered to Pamela, "I see a whole bunch of heavily armed people coming our way.""Good for you," Pamela muttered. "Your eyes are still working.""Do you think they are here to raise me up on their shields and proclaim me 'Prince'?" I joked."I think they are here to kill us," Pamela grinned."I prefer to think positively," I grinned back."I am positive they are here to kill us," Pamela laughed. It had to be our relaxed demeanor that confused them.Had we been the droids they were looking for, we wouldn't have been chatting in the open with our bags in our hands. That would have made us crazy, and they would have been right. We were crazy alright and there was a method to our madness. It was mid-afternoon, yet there were plenty of average Hungarians wandering about.Sure, they saw the 'special cops' closing in. They didn't see the upcoming shoot-out because that was plain nuts. A gun battle in a modern metropolis in broad daylight? London yesterday was an aberration, not the new normal. Our impromptu plan was to let the killers get as close as possible to limit the collateral damage.This wasn't classic Amazon training. It was a concession to allies who did care about civilians killed in the cross-fire. The oncoming hit squad was finally putting faces to targets when Odette broke the calm before the storm. All she did was squeak when Vincent pushed her behind a kiosk. Riki took Virginia shifting her to cover in silence.Delilah took off at a dead-run to the south-east. They were raising their shotguns and assault rifles. We were drawing our pistols. Normally this would have been an unequal match, except that in the time period where, in their eyes, we had gone from bystanders to targets, they'd also covered a good deal of ground, to the point that they were out in the open while my fighting band was in close proximity to all kinds of cover.It started out as eighteen to twelve. Pamela, Chaz and Selena quickly cut down those odd by five. Me? I didn't try to shoot and run at the same time, so I made it to cover and was stuck there by our opponents use of fully-automatic fire.My lack of martial prowess could be forgiven by the reality I was the one they were trying to off. My greatest contribution to this skirmish was tossing my SPAS-12 to Chaz so he could use something more than his standard military issue Glock-17. I had barely gotten Chaz's appreciative nod when two grenades went off in close proximity to me.At first, I heard and felt nothing. My eyes were having trouble focusing. When my limbs began to orient themselves, I had to fight down the instinct to move. I was lying down, which was far safer than staggering around in the middle of this hail of lead. The twin grenades turned out to be their second and very fatal mistake on this mission.The first had been their delay in identifying my group. The second, using the stun grenades, did put me, Pamela and Selena out of commission temporarily. But their mistake was having misplaced my six Amazons in this mess they had created. They did have thirteen shooters versus Chaz, Virginia and Vincent. They rushed our position using the classic advance while firing rote.Two meters from me, the six Amazons revealed themselves with five P-90's and one big-ass bow. Four escaped the kill zone only to find themselves flanked by Delilah. Her .480, combined with their confusion, finished off the survivors. That wasn't the end of it. We still had to effect our get-away.I was still getting my head on straight as the ladies decided to hotwire some of the deceased men's rides and get us the heck out of Dodge. Recovery brought with it the knowledge that Virginia and Chaz had been shot. Pamela, Selena and me, we had some scrapes and bruises. Everyone else checked out. Mona let us know that she could handle the wounded. They wouldn't be doing jumping jacks for a week or two, but a hospital was not required. On the downside, no one believed that eighteen killers dressed as cops randomly rolled up on our transit point by accident. The only people who knew about our change in travel plans had been the Black Hand. We'd lied to the US.We broke into an abandoned factory to stash the vehicles and make our next plan. Selena was coldly furious. Not only did she come to the same conclusion we had, the Black Hand had set us up to be murdered, we weren't letting her call in. Wiesława and Charlotte kept their guns pointed at her, so low was our level of trust.Chaz was pretty much of the opinion that Selena should be coerced to provide us with the names and locations of the Black Hand involved so that we could do our own 'fact finding tour'. Oddly, none of the Americans asked to be pulled out. Vincent and Riki wanted to let the US Embassy know what had happened, yet were willing to wait until we were secure somewhere first.Rachel was on board with Chaz's idea, with the addendum that they kill every Black Hand they could get their hands on before fleeing the city. They had tried to kill ME after all. I was touched. It was Pamela who put things in perspective.1) The attackers were not Black Hand, they were mercenaries and that pointed a bloody finger at the Condottieri.2) Selena wasn't a fanatic and her life had been in as much danger as anyone else's. She wasn't part of our ambush. Her buddies had tossed her under the bus.3) It would have been far easier to catch us in that convoy they'd tried to stick us with. Caught in pre-planned crossfires and without our heavier weapons, we would have all died.4) Having failed to deliver us to the pre-planned ambush site, the Condottieri had to rush to our metro stop because, the safe house they had prepared for us wouldn't have worked. We had the numbers to allow us take total charge of our security once we were in place. No, gauging our numbers, this traitor had sent the mercs into a straight-up fight they'd just lost.

Miracles can happen on Christmas Eve.Based on a post by auguy86, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time. “I; I don't want to just be a charity case,” Ken replied. “If you do this, Gabrielle;”“It will only be because I want to. Promise,” Gabby replied, finishing his thought. “Now, your first lesson in kissing: making the move. I'm a young, attractive woman who has been making eye contact with you all night and finding every excuse in the book to touch you. You may not realize it, but when a woman does that, it means she's ready for you to make the move. Try it on me, just like I did.”Mimicking Ken, Gabby closed her eyes, waiting for the moment that Ken would kiss her once more. He leaned in as she had done, trying to take his time and not rush anything. As he was about to kiss her, he remembered that agonizing wait when he could sense her almost on top of him. Pausing mere centimeters from her lips, he allowed the tension to build up for a few moments. Soon, a huge smile began to form on Gabby's lips; she was enjoying this, and he hadn't even touched her yet! Ken collected his courage and finally met her lips with his, moving them ever so slightly as he kissed her. He only had his instincts to guide him, but she didn't seem to mind one bit.“Umm; that was very nice,” Gabby whispered as they parted. “Good job in mimicking my technique. Let's try one more. This time, lick your lips just a bit before you kiss me, and try to let our mouths fit together like a puzzle. You can take my lower lip between yours, or I can take your lip between mine. Tilting your head to the side a bit is also a natural position. The possibilities are almost endless. When you're ready, don't be afraid to put your tongue in my mouth. In the future, you'll want to be careful about doing this too soon, but for our purposes tonight, go right ahead.”Ken did as she instructed, and found that the increased moisture to be quite pleasant. It allowed each of their lips to slide along the other's with little effort. All too soon, he felt Gabby take his lower lip in hers, sucking lightly and even nibbling for an instant. After she did this a second time, Ken took the hint and reciprocated in kind, eliciting a contented murmur from Gabby. As their kissing became more passionate, he could no longer resist the urge to taste this gorgeous woman. Still tentative, he pressed his tongue against the crease of her lips, which parted to allow him entry. Though he didn't know what to do once he was in, he soon found himself enthralled in Gabby's passions. Her tongue danced with his, exploring his mouth in a slow, methodical fashion. This gave him the perfect gauge to judge his own efforts by. After nearly twenty minutes of making out, they finally separated, their faces flushed from the experience.“Holy shit.” Ken sighed.“You, my friend, are one quick study. The next girl that kisses you may well get addicted and refuse to let you go,” Gabby agreed with a playful grin. Leaning back on the sofa, she reached down and unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, asking, “You ready to learn something else?”In spite of his hardening cock, Ken couldn't help but feel like he was doing something he shouldn't. “Look, you seriously don't have to;”“I want to,” she said with confidence. “Ken, you are such a sweet, special guy, and I want to show you that. I want to prove to you how lucky a girl I would be to have a guy like you.”Would be? What's that supposed to mean?“I've never made love to a virgin, Ken,” she continued. “But I know what I love in bed, and I think I can help you get quite good at this. You don't have to do anything you don't want to, but if you'll allow me, I'd love nothing more than to take your virginity tonight.”Ken was torn. This woman certainly drove him crazy, but part of him worried this was all an elaborate setup. Women never came on to him like this, let alone one this beautiful! Then again, she hadn't balked in the slightest in kissing him. Hell, she had even encouraged him to French kiss her. In spite of the fact that he had every reason to be distrusting after Jacqueline's message, he recognized that she had shown him nothing but kindness and patience. He didn't believe in destiny or fate, but if there was a moment in which he was supposed to lose his virginity, this had to be it.“Okay; I want to,” he whispered.“I'm glad,” she replied with a warm smile.Fumbling with his belt, he said, “I guess I'd better;”“There's plenty of time, Ken,” Gabby reassured him. “If we do this, I want to do it right. I want to show you the proper way to take a girl around the world. That starts with what we were doing earlier, only this time, you can start removing my clothes in the process.”As Ken leaned in and resumed their kissing, Gabby guided his hands lower and slipped them underneath her sweater. He spent a few moments enjoying the warm sensation of skin-to-skin contact before tugging her sweater up. They separated for a moment so that Gabby could finish peeling her top off, revealing a simple, black silk bra. As they continued making out, Ken reached behind her, trying to decipher the key to unhooking the ever-hated bra.“Want some advice?” Gabby asked with a slight giggle.“Sure,” Ken signed, beginning to get frustrated.“Feel for the crease, then slip one finger under and one finger over. Squeeze together and rub your fingers until it unhooks.”Concentrating, Ken did as she instructed. The clasp itself was easy to find, and her descriptions were spot on. To his surprise, it only took one unsuccessful attempt before he managed to snap the garment open.“Impressive,” Gabby marveled.“Thanks, but that was all you. I'd be lost without your instructions.”“You're a natural student; you take direction well. Ready for the next lesson?”“Oh yeah,” Ken said with anticipation.“Your kissing skills have grown by leaps and bounds in just a few minutes. Now you should remember that you don't have to kiss just my lips. My cheeks, my neck, my shoulders; my entire body is your playground. Few things turn a woman on more than a man whose only desire is to worship every inch of her form.”With that, Gabby shrugged her shoulders and slipped her bra off, revealing her ample D-cup tits to Ken. He was utterly speechless at the sight he now beheld. They were not only large, but quite perky as well. Her tiny pink nipples, already hard from their making out, were the perfect accent to Gabby's most notable assets. As he drank her in, he felt her guide his hand towards her, reaching him out to touch her tit. It barely fit into his hand, yet it was so soft and warm that it felt like it just belonged there. Taking a deep breath, Ken now reached in with both of his hands, squeezing her tits together and exploring every inch of their surface. Remembering her words from a moment ago, he leaned in once more and began to kiss his way from her lips down to her chest.“Yes; just like that.” she cooed.Arriving at the valley of her bosom, he made his way to one side, kissing her tit while also stimulating her nipple with his finger.“That's so good, Ken; ooh, you can suck on them too,” she whispered with encouragement.Ken's heart leapt at her suggestion, and he moved to take one of her tiny nipples in his mouth. He sucked with eagerness at first, but Gabby soon coaxed him to go slower.“Careful there; be gentle.”“Sorry.”“Quite alright, they're just a bit sensitive,” she said with a sweet giggle.Ken spent quite some time lapping at her tits, alternating sides every so often. At first, Gabby advised him on when to change so as not to over stimulate one side or the other. Soon, though, Ken was moving back and forth all on his own, driving her wild with lust in the process. After several minutes of this, she lifted his head up, a wicked grin on her face.“Ready for the big reveal?” she asked, lowering the zipper of her jeans.“Uh; uh huh.”Lifting her hips up, Gabby slipped her jeans over her curvy ass and down her long legs before kicking them off with her boots. She then turned to recline back on the sofa, spreading her legs a tiny bit. The smoldering come hither look she gave Ken was enough to bring any man to his knees.“Come on, Ken; you've got a Christmas present to open.”Ken's mouth went dry as he stared at her black thong panties, mesmerized in disbelief by what was about to happen. With trembling hands, he slipped his fingers into her waistband and slid the silky garment off, revealing Gabby's shaven pussy at last. In that moment, Ken had completely forgotten that he was still wearing all his clothes.“I just love the way you're looking at me,” Gabby breathed, breaking his trance. “It's like you won the lottery or something.”“I; think I did.”“So sweet. Now then, time to learn how to really make a woman happy. Most women are at least willing to engage in oral sex, but you always need to give at least as much as you receive. It's only polite. And there's no better way to make a woman want to suck your cock; than to eat her pussy without prompting. With that said.”Gabby now spread her legs wide for him, beckoning him to explore her delectable womanhood. Following a trail she laid with her fingers, Ken began to kiss his way up her leg and inner thigh. After repeating the action on her other leg, he arrived at her soaked pussy, breathing in the musky aroma seeping from within her.“Spread my lips, Ken,” Gabby whispered.Using a gentle touch, he did as she asked, gazing deep into her slick tunnel. He soon leaned forward, touching his tongue to the folds of her labia. She tasted different than he had expected, perhaps a bit salty, but nothing unpleasant in Ken's mind. He continued to taste and tease her lips for a few moments, and she began to squirm and writhe under him in pleasure.“Oh, yes; that's just right, Ken; you can move a little higher, too. See that little bump there? That's my clit. She's sensitive, but if you pay enough attention to her; something good is bound to happen.”He tilted his head upwards a bit, running his tongue along her lips as he arrived at her clit. Flicking the nub a couple of times, he was surprised at just how strong Gabby's reaction was. Ken liked that. She was having the time of her life, and it was all because of him. Feeling a twinge of confidence, he redoubled his efforts and began lapping at her clit again and again, never giving her a chance to rest.“Yes; yes, that's fucking incredible!” she cried out.As Gabby's hips began to buck, Ken looped his arms around her thighs on instinct, helping her to remain still. He continued his worshipping of her womanhood, savoring every drop of her juices as she squirmed and squealed in delight. Soon, he began to sense that her thrashing was reaching a crescendo and an ultimate plateau. He received almost immediate verbal confirmation of this.“Holy shit; Fuck that's awesome! Oh, Ken don't stop; don't; stop; please don't stop don't stop don't stop; ah!”Ken knew in an academic sense that women could achieve powerful orgasms. Still, he had never actually seen it happen, let alone experienced it by his hand, or rather his tongue. Yet lying beneath him was the most beautiful woman he had ever met in his life, and she was becoming even more beautiful by the second as her body erupted in ecstasy. The look of pleasure on her face as her eyes fluttered closed was awe-inspiring. A few final licks to her pussy, and she gently pushed his face away from her crotch.“That's quite enough; but oh so wonderful.” she sighed. “You're a natural, Ken.”“Thanks. That's; got to be the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. Seeing you lose control like that, it was surreal.”“So sweet,” she said, sitting up straight on the sofa. “For all your supposed awkwardness, you sure know how to pay a girl a compliment.” She leaned forward, planting a long, slow kiss on his lips. As they parted, she whispered, “Ready for your due reward?”With a slight gasp, he replied, “Oh, hell yes.”Gabby stood from the sofa, smiling the entire time. Reaching behind the armrest of the sofa, she pulled out a dark blue sleeping bag and began to spread it out on the thick rug in front of the fire.“It's a tradition,” she explained, seeing the look of confusion on Ken's face. “When I was a little girl, I swore I'd catch Santa in the act by sleeping next to the tree. He'd never be able to sneak past me. Well, my parents told me to go for it, but that it wouldn't work; he's too good. Sure enough, he had come and gone the next morning. He even left a note next to my pillow that said, ‘Nice try, Gabby. Merry Christmas.' Ever since then, I've slept by the tree every Christmas Eve.”“Love it,” Ken grinned.By now, she had finished spreading the sleeping bag out on the floor and affixed a couple of pillows at the head for them. As it was designed for one person, she had opened it completely and laid it out flat, making it large enough for two to lie on. Seeing what she was doing, Ken grabbed a large throw blanket from the sofa to cover up with.“Why, thank you,” she said. “But don't you think you're a bit overdressed?”“Huh?” Ken had been so entranced with Gabby's naked body that he'd forgotten that he was still wearing his clothes. “Oh, uh, I guess so.”“Can I help with that?” she asked with a mischievous grin.“Sure.”Gabby sauntered over to him, wrapping him in a warm hug as they stood next to the fireplace. After kissing his lips, she moved to his cheek and neck, just as he had done to her before. As she began to drive him crazy, she slipped her fingers into his tee shirt and pulled it off of him, exposing his bare chest to her. Now with a new playground to explore, Gabby continued from where she left off. She first lingered around his neck and shoulders, then down his chest before finally reaching his stomach. As she knelt before him, she unbuckled his belt and slid his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, freeing his rock hard cock at last.Ken was not large my most standards, being only about five inches in length at full staff, but to Gabby he was perfect. She had no hesitation as she began to lightly stroke his length in her hand, and soon began to take him in her mouth bit-by-bit. Ken was in blissful agony; not only was he receiving is first blowjob, but he also had to keep from exploding too soon, all while concentrating on standing still. She sucked him for a few seconds more before releasing him.“If you get close, let me know, okay? I want this inside my pussy, too.”Ken could only nod in reply. She soon resumed her pleasuring of his member, sucking him with gleeful determination. He had been so good to her tonight; she only wanted to reward his efforts. Slowing her pace, she gazed up at him with her smoldering eyes, her pretty face framed by her long blonde hair. As Ken began to lose himself in her beauty, he also felt a familiar bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. Though he panicked for a moment, he soon had the presence of mind to tap Gabby on the forehead.“I think you'd better slow down,” he stammered.Releasing his cock from her mouth with a pop, Gabby grinned and replied, “Good. Because I think it's time for me to take your virginity.”After switching off the gas logs, she stretched out on the open sleeping bag and held part of the blanket up, beckoning Ken to slide in with her. He did so with eagerness, though was still nervous as hell; he had no idea what he was doing! Sensing his doubts, Gabby spoke with soft confidence and reassurance.“Let's go you on top to start. That way you can control it so you don't go off too soon. Honestly, though, don't worry about stamina. You've already lasted through one of my blowjobs, which is no small feat, if I do say so myself. You ready?”“Um, yeah; I think so. But do we need any; protection? I don't have a condom or anything.”With a warm smile, she replied, “Don't ever change, Ken. Sweet, humble, and considerate, that's what you are. I don't have any diseases per my last doctor's visit two months ago, and I know you're a virgin so I don't think there's any concern.”“That's good. But; what if you get pregnant? I'm not sure I'd be able to pull out in time.”“Well,” she paused, her smile becoming more bittersweet. “It's a long story, but trust me when I say that there's no risk of me becoming pregnant. We're clear to let loose with this, as long as you're comfortable with that, of course.”“I am. I just; wanted to be sure.”“Thank you, Ken. Now, if you please, my pussy is aching for your cock, and you'd best make her happy.”Positioning his pelvic region between her legs, Ken attempted to push into her, but his slick cock merely grazed the surface before slipping up to her belly. Gabby just smiled and reached down, taking a gentle grip on his cock with her hand and guiding him to the entrance of her pussy. Feeling a bit of give, he followed his instincts and penetrated her at long last, his virginity melting away in the process. She was divine, far tighter than Ken had ever imagined in his wildest dreams and fantasies.“Oh Ken; that's just where you belong,” she cooed in satisfaction.“Holy fuck; so tight.” he could only reply.Ken began to thrust in and out of her, keeping his tempo moderate at the start to get a feel for how sensitive he was. The sensations of making love to this goddess were only enhanced by the look of sheer enjoyment in Gabby's eyes. He prayed that he would be able to last and enjoy it all, even if only for a few minutes. As he continued thrusting into her, Gabby began to get a mischievous look in her eyes.“You're thinking something,” Ken observed.“Uh huh. Wanna learn a trick that'll drive any girl nuts?”“Sure.”“Come up on your knees and keep your torso straight up. Try to get to where you can keep yourself inside me without having to balance on your arms.”“Like this?” he asked, relaxing back on his folded knees.“Exactly. You can also stretch my leg out against your chest to help you balance.”“Very nice,” he said as he followed her instructions.“Yep, but that's not the trick. This is the trick. Use your hand; and masturbate me while you fuck me.”Ken at first wasn't sure if he had heard correctly, but Gabby soon confirmed that he had when she took his hand and slid it down her thigh towards her slit. Once there, he reacquainted himself with her womanhood, finding her clit with little effort. Gabby's reaction was immediate. Her eyes bulged and her arms began to flail about in ecstasy. This only spurred Ken on further, as he upped the tempo of his thrusts while continuing to jack her off. Gabby was in such pleasure that she couldn't even form words. Nothing but incoherent babbling came from her mouth. Finally, her long-awaited orgasm arrived, and Gabby screamed into her pillow at the top of her lungs. Meanwhile, Ken had the pleasure of experiencing what would become his favorite part of lovemaking: a woman's pussy erupting in climax around his cock.“Oh my god; that; was awesome,” he marveled.“Uh huh; you're fucking amazing, Ken.”“Thanks to you,” he grinned, slowing his thrusts to allow her to recover.“I just gave pointers. You executed; to perfection, I may add.”“My knees are about to give out, though.”“Well isn't that excellent timing; because I wanna ride you now.”Disengaging from him, Gabby gave Ken a playful push to the side, landing him flat on his back. Before he could even think of retaliating, she had already clambered on top of him and was rubbing her slick entrance against his cock. If she wasn't careful she might have made him blow his load right then and there, but she backed off in time, planting a deep kiss on his lips. As their tongues danced, she positioned his head against her and lowered herself onto him. Ken moaned into her mouth at the reintroduction of her wonderful tunnel. Their mouths parted as she arrived at the base of his cock, and she sat up straight to give him an unobstructed view of her glorious tits.Rather than bounce on him full force, Gabby used a smooth, firm grinding motion on his cock. After all, they were on a sleeping bag on the floor, rather than a proper bed. Ken couldn't help but reach up and take her jiggling globes in his hands, squeezing them and tweaking her nipples a bit. This only encouraged Gabby further, now exploring every inch of his cock with her velvety pussy. She rode him for all she was worth, no longer trying to extend their session, but actively working to send him over the edge. Ken, perhaps picking up on this, tried to coax her to slow down.“Gabby, you'd better slow; oh shit; down. I'm not gonna;”“I don't care. Give it to me,” she replied in a husky voice.“Huh? But I haven't even gone ten minutes? Aren't guys supposed to be able to last?”Gabby smiled at him. “Ken, you've been wonderful tonight. You kissed me like I was the only woman in the world, ate my pussy, and survived one of my world-famous blowjobs. Believe me, you're no slouch. You've lasted Ken, and made me orgasm twice in the process!” She leaned closer, whispering in his ear, “Cum for me, right in my pussy. I want it. I need it. Please don't hold back. Give it all; to me.”That did it. Her masterful motions combined with her seductive voice were too much for poor Ken to handle. As she planted her lips firmly on his, he thrust his last into her and began to spray his seed into Gabby's pussy. Though he had masturbated many times, none of his orgasms were ever this long or powerful; it was unreal. As he finally came down from his high, Ken's cock began to soften inside her pussy, slipping out after a few seconds.“That was; amazing.” he sighed, feeling the call of sleep washing over him.“Nuh uh! No you don't, Ken!” Gabby replied with a playful slap.“Huh?”“There's one more thing for you to learn: the art of pillow talk. Trust me, Ken. You stay awake and talk to a woman after sex, and you show her she's more than just a piece of ass,” she said, rolling off to lie next to him.“Guess that makes sense,” he mused, rubbing his eyes to stay awake. “Well you asked me all about myself, and I was about to do the same when, uh; all this happened.”“Not complaining are you?” she asked with a grin as she laid her head on his shoulder.“Hell no! Still, what about Gabby? What makes her tick?”“Well, my family is the biggest part of my life, in all honesty. With Mom, Dad, plus two big brothers and a little sister, there's a lot of love to go around. We've always been tight.”“Oh yeah! You mentioned earlier about not being alone on Christmas Eve, yet you would have been alone if we hadn't met. What's up with that?”Gabby replied, “We're kinda spread across the southeast right now. One brother works in Birmingham, another in Nashville. My sister is visiting a sorority sister up in South Carolina. Mom and Dad live near here, but have been traveling. They were supposed to get in today, but their flight got delayed. Won't be seeing them until after lunch tomorrow. Still, we should have everyone together by the day after Christmas.”“Always good,” Ken smiled, wishing his own family was a close as Gabby's. Noticing the silver cross still hanging from her neck, he asked, “I guess you're pretty religious, too?”“Very much so. Born and raised Catholic.”“Yet, you're not at mass?”“Extenuating circumstances,” she replied, a slight grimace on her face.“Sorry, didn't mean for that to come out harsh. No judgment from me, promise. My mom's always been religious, but it just never spoke to me. I mean, how can a supposedly loving God allow such evil acts in the world He created?”Gabby looked up, calm confidence in her eyes. “Sometimes bad things happen to good people. That doesn't mean God causes those bad things to happen. In all things, I believe God works for good. Even in the worst situations imaginable, God manages to cause some amount of good to come from them.”“You really believe that?” Ken asked.“With every fiber of my being. It's what keeps me going.”“Well, you're the first that's been able to answer me that question in a way that makes sense. No ‘it's all in God's plan' or ‘you must not love God enough' or any such nonsense. You; you get it.”Lying there in silence for a few minutes, Ken finally found the courage to ask the question he was afraid to know the answer to.“Will I ever see you again?”A long pause, then Gabby replied, “No.”“Why? I know I go to school in Massachusetts, but I'd be a fool to give up on an incredible woman like you. Why can't we give it a shot?”With a sigh, she answered, “Because there's something you don't know about me.” Taking his face in her hands and gazing deep into his eyes, she continued, “I'm dying, Ken.”He blinked twice, uncertain if he had heard her right. “Dying?”“I have; a rare and aggressive form of grade IV brain cancer. The doctors diagnosed me about two months ago. I have less than six months to live. They said they could treat it, but it would only buy me another year at best. Even if it were successful, I'd be so weak from the chemo that I wouldn't be able to do much of anything. So, I opted for a powerful regiment of pain management and resolved to live what time I have left to the fullest. Experience all I can, spread as much joy as I can.”“This explains everything,” Ken realized. “Why you weren't scared of me in the park, even with me holding a knife. Why you didn't hesitate to invite me to your home. Why there was no concern of you getting pregnant.”“And why we can't be together, as much as I want it. Ken, I meant what I said earlier. If I could spend any amount of time, and especially years with a guy like you, I would be so lucky and blessed. You're a wonderful person, and you're going to make some girl happy beyond belief someday. Whoever she is, wherever she may be; I envy her.”“I just wish it could be you.”“I know, Ken, but you don't deserve that. You don't deserve to fall head-over-heels in love with a girl that you know will be dead in a few short months. In another lifetime, maybe we could have been soul mates. But God seems to have other plans.”“Gabby, how can you still believe in God through all this? You said that He works all things for good, but what good can come of this?”She collected her courage, deciding to tell him her darkest secret, one that not even her own family knew. “About a month ago, I was in a really bad spot. I still believed in God, but couldn't believe He would put me through such pain and suffering. I had dreams, hopes, plans; but all for naught. I got low. So low that, one night, I almost did; what you almost did.”“Take the easy way out?”“Exactly. I nearly went through with it, but at the last moment decided to sleep on it. That night, I had a dream. Someone, I don't know who, was speaking to me. ‘Your life still has meaning. You still have a purpose.' That's what they told me. There's no way that was a coincidence. When I woke up, I promised myself I'd find that purpose for my life. Tonight, I may have done just that.”“What do you mean?” Ken asked.“Ken, if I had killed myself, I wouldn't have only been responsible for my own death. I'd have also been responsible for yours. I wouldn't have been there to talk to you and convince you there was a better way.”“That's one way of looking at it, I guess,” Ken mused, pondering her realization.“There's more, Ken. You're going to be a brain surgeon. I have no doubt about that. If I'm not there tonight, how many lives are lost in the future because Dr. Ken Dix isn't around to save them? How many children have their lives snuffed out from you not being there to ward off the hand of Death? You are going to help so many people in your life, Ken. I can't tell you how happy that makes me.”“And all that is worth the horrible death you're destined for?”“Absolutely,” she replied without hesitation.Shaking his head, Ken said, “You're a far better human being than I am.”Kissing him lightly on the cheek, Gabby whispered, “Don't sell yourself short. You had a moment of weakness, but walked back from the brink. Doesn't matter how or why, the fact is you didn't go through with it. Hang on to that.”“So there's one thing that still confuses me.”“What's that?”“With you being as religious as you are, I still don't get why you aren't at mass tonight? It's Christmas Eve, after all.”“Well; shortly after my diagnosis, I had a falling out with Father Maxwell. He was comforting at first, but soon began trying to convince me to allow him to pray over me for healing. He said that my tumor ‘was not unlike that of a demon needing to be exorcised.' That hurt me deeply. If I had let him pray over me for healing, yet was not healed, the logical argument could be made that God refused to listen! Good people get sick and are cut down too soon, but that doesn't mean that they didn't pray hard enough or that they didn't love God enough. After those conversations; I couldn't take anything that man said seriously. I've made my peace with God; that's more than enough for me.”Nodding, Ken replied, “I think you made the right call, and that's not just ‘cause I'm a religious cynic. Your reasons make perfect sense.”Gabby smiled and snuggled up in the crook of his arm, pulling the blanket over them in the process. “Thank you, Ken. For everything. I can't tell you how thankful I am to have met you tonight.”Kissing her on the forehead, he whispered, “Merry Christmas, Gabby.”Christmas Morning.Gabby awoke on Christmas morning feeling surprisingly cold. Turning over, she saw that the other side of the sleeping bag was now empty; Ken had already gone, it seemed. As she rubbed her eyes awake, she found a piece of paper on his pillow with a note written on it.Gabby,I'm so sorry for leaving before you woke up, but I think it will be less painful this way for both of us. I'm guessing from your statements last night that you've fallen for me, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't crazy for you. As much as I want us to be together, deep down I know you're right. It's just not meant for this lifetime.I want to thank you for giving this religious cynic the most valuable insights on God, that he's ever heard in his life. I have a lot to mull over and some serious questions to ask myself, about the man I want to become. Though I never said it out loud, I'm so sorry that I considered killing myself. It was selfish and shortsighted of me. Thanks to you, I realize that now.Gabrielle Libertine, you are truly one of God's gifts to mankind. For me, you're an Angel of Mercy; descended from on high at just the moment I needed you most. I promise you, from this day on, I will never again consider killing myself. You have my word of honor. In your memory, I am now devoted to finding my purpose in life. I do want to help people. I do want to save lives. I do want to find a special girl to spend my life with. And thanks to you, I still can. Thank you for everything, Gabby. I pray that your life will be full of joy and happiness.All my love, Kenneth Dix.P.S. Merry Christmas to you and your family.Tears of joy streamed down her face as she read his message. Gabby had hoped that her efforts might in some small way have an impact on Ken, but to see such immediate effects was more than she could have ever hoped for. To bring about such direct improvements in a young man's life was truly the greatest purpose she could ever imagine in her life. She no longer had any doubt in her mind; this was God's intention all along. Perhaps she had lost the love of her life, but she had also saved the love of her life, giving him a second chance at love in the process.“Merry Christmas, Ken. God speed,” she whispered, kissing her fingers and touching them to the paper.The sound of a phone ringing from the sofa interrupted her thoughts. Reaching over, Gabby saw that it was her mom.“Hey Mom! Merry Christmas; Yes, I slept in front of the tree; Oh, your flight's already here? Awesome! Lemmie get dressed, and I'll come get you guys; Love you too. Bye.”Mother's House.Ken pulled up to his mom's house in a taxi around seven that morning. Before he was even halfway up the driveway, Helen was already running out to meet him, wrapping him in a tight hug.“Ken! Thank God you're alright!”“I'm fine, Mom. No worries.”Taking his hand, she said, “Come on, Uncle Lee wants to talk to you. He's up in your room.”Ken climbed the stairs in relative silence, pondering what sort of conversation awaited him. Arriving at his room, he entered, closing the door behind him. Uncle Lee sat at his desk chair.“Ken.”“Uncle Lee.”The two eyed each other for several seconds, the tension growing in the room.“Mom said you want to talk to me,” Ken said, sitting on his bed.“Yeah, I do. Ken; I was a real ass yesterday.”“That's not really fair;”“No. No, it is. You were right about everything. A real man stands up for his family, lends a hand to someone being ganged up on. Truth is; I was afraid to get involved yesterday. I was afraid if I did; you'd never learn to be self-sufficient. Fact is I was a coward. Plain and simple.”Sitting for a moment, Ken replied, “It's alright, Uncle Lee. We're still family, after all.”“Glad to hear you say that,” Lee said, rising to shake his nephew's hand. “Now, as my apology, how ‘bout you and I pay a visit to this Jason character? Make sure he knows what's what.”“That's; really kind of you, Uncle Lee, but I'm not interested.”“Not interested?”“Jason Brown's a fucking dumbass!” Ken said with a laugh. “He's peaked in his life; even he knows that. It's all downhill for him from here on out. Me? I'm going places. Hell, I'm on scholarship at MIT, aiming to go to Harvard Medical in a few years. Why should I care what a stupid jock thinks of me?”Lee studied his face for a few moments. “There's something different about you, Ken. You've got this look in your eye. ‘I don't know where I'll end up, but wherever it is, I'm going to be kicking ass.' That's what it says to me. What's up? What did you do last night?”Thinking of Gabby, Ken smiled and answered, “Just; took some time alone, found a bit of peace and quiet. That's where I do my best thinking. It let me put things into perspective, figure out what's most important to me.”“Huh. Well whatever you did, I like the results. Still as smart as ever; but somehow more confident.”“Thanks.”“So what was Jason so hot about, anyhow?”“Ah, he had seen me talking to his sister, Jacqueline. She and I had been partners a lot in school, and I stopped to chat when I saw her in the parking lot. He didn't like that.”“Seems like none of his fuckin' business.”“Yeah, but she's just as mean as he is, deep down. She's just really good at hiding it until the opportune moment; for her, of course,” Ken explained.“She shot ya down in the worst possible way, eh?” Lee realized.“Yeah,” Ken said, recalling his lowest moment from last night. “Her loss, though.”“Damn right, it is! Come on, we got presents to open,” Lee said jovially, leading the way down the stairs.The Gravesite.“Come on, Tiffany. It's this way.”“Where are we going, Ken? What's so important that we have to wait until tomorrow to leave for our honeymoon?”“You'll see. It's just up ahead. Besides, all our patients are in good hands with Dr. Nguyen. We've got all the time in the world.”“Always the hopeless romantic.”Ken clutched the hand of the gorgeous redhead following him, running his finger along the rings on her left hand as they went. The pair remained careful, always watching where they stepped, as several tree roots popped up from the ground along the trail. Finally, they reached their destination.“Here she is,” Ken said.The couple stood in front of a headstone, simple yet beautiful in its design. Tiffany, still confused, began to read the words carved on it.“Gabrielle Dorothy Libertine.February 10, 1993 to April 29, 2017.Loving daughter, sister, and friend.An Angel of Mercy.“Ken; who is this?” Tiffany was confused.“Well; I've told you about the night I almost killed myself. Remember how I said that there's more to the story, but I wasn't ready to tell you yet?”“Of course.”“She's the rest of the story, Tiff. Ten years ago, to this very day, Gabby arrived at the moment I needed her most; and saved my life. If it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't be here today. I'd have done it. She had no skin in the game and was going to die of cancer a few months later, but she felt called to help me nonetheless.”Turning to the headstone, he continued, “Gabby; It's me, Ken. I did it. I did everything you said I would. Became a brain surgeon, save the lives of kids every day; and I met the love of my life. This is Tiffany Sanders, or Tiffany Dix, as of yesterday. We met at Harvard. We practice medicine together, we help people; she's everything I've ever wanted. And because of everything you did for me; I made it. You saved my life, showed me what worth I had, encouraged me to find God's purpose for my life, hell you even took my virginity. Gabby, no words could ever express my gratitude for you. All I can say is; thank you.”Moved to tears, Tiffany collapsed to her knees, touching the letters on the headstone with her fingers. “You; saved my husband's life? You would spend what little time you had left on Earth helping him? My God; miracles do happen, after all. I; I love him, Gabrielle. I love him with all my heart. He completes me. Ken's always had his doubts, but I know there is a God. I know there is a Heaven. And if everything Ken said is true; that's exactly where you are today. Please, watch over us. One day, I plan to thank you in person.”Ken rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, comforting her. Tiffany began to rise to her feet, wrapping her husband in a long embrace. They shared a long, tender kiss, thinking of nothing but each other. At long last, they parted, their eyes locked together.“You ready to start our life together?” Ken asked.“Yeah; more than ever.” based on a post by auguy86, in 2 parts for Sex Stories.

Miracles can happen on Christmas Eve.Based on a post by auguy86, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time. “I; I don't want to just be a charity case,” Ken replied. “If you do this, Gabrielle;”“It will only be because I want to. Promise,” Gabby replied, finishing his thought. “Now, your first lesson in kissing: making the move. I'm a young, attractive woman who has been making eye contact with you all night and finding every excuse in the book to touch you. You may not realize it, but when a woman does that, it means she's ready for you to make the move. Try it on me, just like I did.”Mimicking Ken, Gabby closed her eyes, waiting for the moment that Ken would kiss her once more. He leaned in as she had done, trying to take his time and not rush anything. As he was about to kiss her, he remembered that agonizing wait when he could sense her almost on top of him. Pausing mere centimeters from her lips, he allowed the tension to build up for a few moments. Soon, a huge smile began to form on Gabby's lips; she was enjoying this, and he hadn't even touched her yet! Ken collected his courage and finally met her lips with his, moving them ever so slightly as he kissed her. He only had his instincts to guide him, but she didn't seem to mind one bit.“Umm; that was very nice,” Gabby whispered as they parted. “Good job in mimicking my technique. Let's try one more. This time, lick your lips just a bit before you kiss me, and try to let our mouths fit together like a puzzle. You can take my lower lip between yours, or I can take your lip between mine. Tilting your head to the side a bit is also a natural position. The possibilities are almost endless. When you're ready, don't be afraid to put your tongue in my mouth. In the future, you'll want to be careful about doing this too soon, but for our purposes tonight, go right ahead.”Ken did as she instructed, and found that the increased moisture to be quite pleasant. It allowed each of their lips to slide along the other's with little effort. All too soon, he felt Gabby take his lower lip in hers, sucking lightly and even nibbling for an instant. After she did this a second time, Ken took the hint and reciprocated in kind, eliciting a contented murmur from Gabby. As their kissing became more passionate, he could no longer resist the urge to taste this gorgeous woman. Still tentative, he pressed his tongue against the crease of her lips, which parted to allow him entry. Though he didn't know what to do once he was in, he soon found himself enthralled in Gabby's passions. Her tongue danced with his, exploring his mouth in a slow, methodical fashion. This gave him the perfect gauge to judge his own efforts by. After nearly twenty minutes of making out, they finally separated, their faces flushed from the experience.“Holy shit.” Ken sighed.“You, my friend, are one quick study. The next girl that kisses you may well get addicted and refuse to let you go,” Gabby agreed with a playful grin. Leaning back on the sofa, she reached down and unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, asking, “You ready to learn something else?”In spite of his hardening cock, Ken couldn't help but feel like he was doing something he shouldn't. “Look, you seriously don't have to;”“I want to,” she said with confidence. “Ken, you are such a sweet, special guy, and I want to show you that. I want to prove to you how lucky a girl I would be to have a guy like you.”Would be? What's that supposed to mean?“I've never made love to a virgin, Ken,” she continued. “But I know what I love in bed, and I think I can help you get quite good at this. You don't have to do anything you don't want to, but if you'll allow me, I'd love nothing more than to take your virginity tonight.”Ken was torn. This woman certainly drove him crazy, but part of him worried this was all an elaborate setup. Women never came on to him like this, let alone one this beautiful! Then again, she hadn't balked in the slightest in kissing him. Hell, she had even encouraged him to French kiss her. In spite of the fact that he had every reason to be distrusting after Jacqueline's message, he recognized that she had shown him nothing but kindness and patience. He didn't believe in destiny or fate, but if there was a moment in which he was supposed to lose his virginity, this had to be it.“Okay; I want to,” he whispered.“I'm glad,” she replied with a warm smile.Fumbling with his belt, he said, “I guess I'd better;”“There's plenty of time, Ken,” Gabby reassured him. “If we do this, I want to do it right. I want to show you the proper way to take a girl around the world. That starts with what we were doing earlier, only this time, you can start removing my clothes in the process.”As Ken leaned in and resumed their kissing, Gabby guided his hands lower and slipped them underneath her sweater. He spent a few moments enjoying the warm sensation of skin-to-skin contact before tugging her sweater up. They separated for a moment so that Gabby could finish peeling her top off, revealing a simple, black silk bra. As they continued making out, Ken reached behind her, trying to decipher the key to unhooking the ever-hated bra.“Want some advice?” Gabby asked with a slight giggle.“Sure,” Ken signed, beginning to get frustrated.“Feel for the crease, then slip one finger under and one finger over. Squeeze together and rub your fingers until it unhooks.”Concentrating, Ken did as she instructed. The clasp itself was easy to find, and her descriptions were spot on. To his surprise, it only took one unsuccessful attempt before he managed to snap the garment open.“Impressive,” Gabby marveled.“Thanks, but that was all you. I'd be lost without your instructions.”“You're a natural student; you take direction well. Ready for the next lesson?”“Oh yeah,” Ken said with anticipation.“Your kissing skills have grown by leaps and bounds in just a few minutes. Now you should remember that you don't have to kiss just my lips. My cheeks, my neck, my shoulders; my entire body is your playground. Few things turn a woman on more than a man whose only desire is to worship every inch of her form.”With that, Gabby shrugged her shoulders and slipped her bra off, revealing her ample D-cup tits to Ken. He was utterly speechless at the sight he now beheld. They were not only large, but quite perky as well. Her tiny pink nipples, already hard from their making out, were the perfect accent to Gabby's most notable assets. As he drank her in, he felt her guide his hand towards her, reaching him out to touch her tit. It barely fit into his hand, yet it was so soft and warm that it felt like it just belonged there. Taking a deep breath, Ken now reached in with both of his hands, squeezing her tits together and exploring every inch of their surface. Remembering her words from a moment ago, he leaned in once more and began to kiss his way from her lips down to her chest.“Yes; just like that.” she cooed.Arriving at the valley of her bosom, he made his way to one side, kissing her tit while also stimulating her nipple with his finger.“That's so good, Ken; ooh, you can suck on them too,” she whispered with encouragement.Ken's heart leapt at her suggestion, and he moved to take one of her tiny nipples in his mouth. He sucked with eagerness at first, but Gabby soon coaxed him to go slower.“Careful there; be gentle.”“Sorry.”“Quite alright, they're just a bit sensitive,” she said with a sweet giggle.Ken spent quite some time lapping at her tits, alternating sides every so often. At first, Gabby advised him on when to change so as not to over stimulate one side or the other. Soon, though, Ken was moving back and forth all on his own, driving her wild with lust in the process. After several minutes of this, she lifted his head up, a wicked grin on her face.“Ready for the big reveal?” she asked, lowering the zipper of her jeans.“Uh; uh huh.”Lifting her hips up, Gabby slipped her jeans over her curvy ass and down her long legs before kicking them off with her boots. She then turned to recline back on the sofa, spreading her legs a tiny bit. The smoldering come hither look she gave Ken was enough to bring any man to his knees.“Come on, Ken; you've got a Christmas present to open.”Ken's mouth went dry as he stared at her black thong panties, mesmerized in disbelief by what was about to happen. With trembling hands, he slipped his fingers into her waistband and slid the silky garment off, revealing Gabby's shaven pussy at last. In that moment, Ken had completely forgotten that he was still wearing all his clothes.“I just love the way you're looking at me,” Gabby breathed, breaking his trance. “It's like you won the lottery or something.”“I; think I did.”“So sweet. Now then, time to learn how to really make a woman happy. Most women are at least willing to engage in oral sex, but you always need to give at least as much as you receive. It's only polite. And there's no better way to make a woman want to suck your cock; than to eat her pussy without prompting. With that said.”Gabby now spread her legs wide for him, beckoning him to explore her delectable womanhood. Following a trail she laid with her fingers, Ken began to kiss his way up her leg and inner thigh. After repeating the action on her other leg, he arrived at her soaked pussy, breathing in the musky aroma seeping from within her.“Spread my lips, Ken,” Gabby whispered.Using a gentle touch, he did as she asked, gazing deep into her slick tunnel. He soon leaned forward, touching his tongue to the folds of her labia. She tasted different than he had expected, perhaps a bit salty, but nothing unpleasant in Ken's mind. He continued to taste and tease her lips for a few moments, and she began to squirm and writhe under him in pleasure.“Oh, yes; that's just right, Ken; you can move a little higher, too. See that little bump there? That's my clit. She's sensitive, but if you pay enough attention to her; something good is bound to happen.”He tilted his head upwards a bit, running his tongue along her lips as he arrived at her clit. Flicking the nub a couple of times, he was surprised at just how strong Gabby's reaction was. Ken liked that. She was having the time of her life, and it was all because of him. Feeling a twinge of confidence, he redoubled his efforts and began lapping at her clit again and again, never giving her a chance to rest.“Yes; yes, that's fucking incredible!” she cried out.As Gabby's hips began to buck, Ken looped his arms around her thighs on instinct, helping her to remain still. He continued his worshipping of her womanhood, savoring every drop of her juices as she squirmed and squealed in delight. Soon, he began to sense that her thrashing was reaching a crescendo and an ultimate plateau. He received almost immediate verbal confirmation of this.“Holy shit; Fuck that's awesome! Oh, Ken don't stop; don't; stop; please don't stop don't stop don't stop; ah!”Ken knew in an academic sense that women could achieve powerful orgasms. Still, he had never actually seen it happen, let alone experienced it by his hand, or rather his tongue. Yet lying beneath him was the most beautiful woman he had ever met in his life, and she was becoming even more beautiful by the second as her body erupted in ecstasy. The look of pleasure on her face as her eyes fluttered closed was awe-inspiring. A few final licks to her pussy, and she gently pushed his face away from her crotch.“That's quite enough; but oh so wonderful.” she sighed. “You're a natural, Ken.”“Thanks. That's; got to be the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. Seeing you lose control like that, it was surreal.”“So sweet,” she said, sitting up straight on the sofa. “For all your supposed awkwardness, you sure know how to pay a girl a compliment.” She leaned forward, planting a long, slow kiss on his lips. As they parted, she whispered, “Ready for your due reward?”With a slight gasp, he replied, “Oh, hell yes.”Gabby stood from the sofa, smiling the entire time. Reaching behind the armrest of the sofa, she pulled out a dark blue sleeping bag and began to spread it out on the thick rug in front of the fire.“It's a tradition,” she explained, seeing the look of confusion on Ken's face. “When I was a little girl, I swore I'd catch Santa in the act by sleeping next to the tree. He'd never be able to sneak past me. Well, my parents told me to go for it, but that it wouldn't work; he's too good. Sure enough, he had come and gone the next morning. He even left a note next to my pillow that said, ‘Nice try, Gabby. Merry Christmas.' Ever since then, I've slept by the tree every Christmas Eve.”“Love it,” Ken grinned.By now, she had finished spreading the sleeping bag out on the floor and affixed a couple of pillows at the head for them. As it was designed for one person, she had opened it completely and laid it out flat, making it large enough for two to lie on. Seeing what she was doing, Ken grabbed a large throw blanket from the sofa to cover up with.“Why, thank you,” she said. “But don't you think you're a bit overdressed?”“Huh?” Ken had been so entranced with Gabby's naked body that he'd forgotten that he was still wearing his clothes. “Oh, uh, I guess so.”“Can I help with that?” she asked with a mischievous grin.“Sure.”Gabby sauntered over to him, wrapping him in a warm hug as they stood next to the fireplace. After kissing his lips, she moved to his cheek and neck, just as he had done to her before. As she began to drive him crazy, she slipped her fingers into his tee shirt and pulled it off of him, exposing his bare chest to her. Now with a new playground to explore, Gabby continued from where she left off. She first lingered around his neck and shoulders, then down his chest before finally reaching his stomach. As she knelt before him, she unbuckled his belt and slid his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, freeing his rock hard cock at last.Ken was not large my most standards, being only about five inches in length at full staff, but to Gabby he was perfect. She had no hesitation as she began to lightly stroke his length in her hand, and soon began to take him in her mouth bit-by-bit. Ken was in blissful agony; not only was he receiving is first blowjob, but he also had to keep from exploding too soon, all while concentrating on standing still. She sucked him for a few seconds more before releasing him.“If you get close, let me know, okay? I want this inside my pussy, too.”Ken could only nod in reply. She soon resumed her pleasuring of his member, sucking him with gleeful determination. He had been so good to her tonight; she only wanted to reward his efforts. Slowing her pace, she gazed up at him with her smoldering eyes, her pretty face framed by her long blonde hair. As Ken began to lose himself in her beauty, he also felt a familiar bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. Though he panicked for a moment, he soon had the presence of mind to tap Gabby on the forehead.“I think you'd better slow down,” he stammered.Releasing his cock from her mouth with a pop, Gabby grinned and replied, “Good. Because I think it's time for me to take your virginity.”After switching off the gas logs, she stretched out on the open sleeping bag and held part of the blanket up, beckoning Ken to slide in with her. He did so with eagerness, though was still nervous as hell; he had no idea what he was doing! Sensing his doubts, Gabby spoke with soft confidence and reassurance.“Let's go you on top to start. That way you can control it so you don't go off too soon. Honestly, though, don't worry about stamina. You've already lasted through one of my blowjobs, which is no small feat, if I do say so myself. You ready?”“Um, yeah; I think so. But do we need any; protection? I don't have a condom or anything.”With a warm smile, she replied, “Don't ever change, Ken. Sweet, humble, and considerate, that's what you are. I don't have any diseases per my last doctor's visit two months ago, and I know you're a virgin so I don't think there's any concern.”“That's good. But; what if you get pregnant? I'm not sure I'd be able to pull out in time.”“Well,” she paused, her smile becoming more bittersweet. “It's a long story, but trust me when I say that there's no risk of me becoming pregnant. We're clear to let loose with this, as long as you're comfortable with that, of course.”“I am. I just; wanted to be sure.”“Thank you, Ken. Now, if you please, my pussy is aching for your cock, and you'd best make her happy.”Positioning his pelvic region between her legs, Ken attempted to push into her, but his slick cock merely grazed the surface before slipping up to her belly. Gabby just smiled and reached down, taking a gentle grip on his cock with her hand and guiding him to the entrance of her pussy. Feeling a bit of give, he followed his instincts and penetrated her at long last, his virginity melting away in the process. She was divine, far tighter than Ken had ever imagined in his wildest dreams and fantasies.“Oh Ken; that's just where you belong,” she cooed in satisfaction.“Holy fuck; so tight.” he could only reply.Ken began to thrust in and out of her, keeping his tempo moderate at the start to get a feel for how sensitive he was. The sensations of making love to this goddess were only enhanced by the look of sheer enjoyment in Gabby's eyes. He prayed that he would be able to last and enjoy it all, even if only for a few minutes. As he continued thrusting into her, Gabby began to get a mischievous look in her eyes.“You're thinking something,” Ken observed.“Uh huh. Wanna learn a trick that'll drive any girl nuts?”“Sure.”“Come up on your knees and keep your torso straight up. Try to get to where you can keep yourself inside me without having to balance on your arms.”“Like this?” he asked, relaxing back on his folded knees.“Exactly. You can also stretch my leg out against your chest to help you balance.”“Very nice,” he said as he followed her instructions.“Yep, but that's not the trick. This is the trick. Use your hand; and masturbate me while you fuck me.”Ken at first wasn't sure if he had heard correctly, but Gabby soon confirmed that he had when she took his hand and slid it down her thigh towards her slit. Once there, he reacquainted himself with her womanhood, finding her clit with little effort. Gabby's reaction was immediate. Her eyes bulged and her arms began to flail about in ecstasy. This only spurred Ken on further, as he upped the tempo of his thrusts while continuing to jack her off. Gabby was in such pleasure that she couldn't even form words. Nothing but incoherent babbling came from her mouth. Finally, her long-awaited orgasm arrived, and Gabby screamed into her pillow at the top of her lungs. Meanwhile, Ken had the pleasure of experiencing what would become his favorite part of lovemaking: a woman's pussy erupting in climax around his cock.“Oh my god; that; was awesome,” he marveled.“Uh huh; you're fucking amazing, Ken.”“Thanks to you,” he grinned, slowing his thrusts to allow her to recover.“I just gave pointers. You executed; to perfection, I may add.”“My knees are about to give out, though.”“Well isn't that excellent timing; because I wanna ride you now.”Disengaging from him, Gabby gave Ken a playful push to the side, landing him flat on his back. Before he could even think of retaliating, she had already clambered on top of him and was rubbing her slick entrance against his cock. If she wasn't careful she might have made him blow his load right then and there, but she backed off in time, planting a deep kiss on his lips. As their tongues danced, she positioned his head against her and lowered herself onto him. Ken moaned into her mouth at the reintroduction of her wonderful tunnel. Their mouths parted as she arrived at the base of his cock, and she sat up straight to give him an unobstructed view of her glorious tits.Rather than bounce on him full force, Gabby used a smooth, firm grinding motion on his cock. After all, they were on a sleeping bag on the floor, rather than a proper bed. Ken couldn't help but reach up and take her jiggling globes in his hands, squeezing them and tweaking her nipples a bit. This only encouraged Gabby further, now exploring every inch of his cock with her velvety pussy. She rode him for all she was worth, no longer trying to extend their session, but actively working to send him over the edge. Ken, perhaps picking up on this, tried to coax her to slow down.“Gabby, you'd better slow; oh shit; down. I'm not gonna;”“I don't care. Give it to me,” she replied in a husky voice.“Huh? But I haven't even gone ten minutes? Aren't guys supposed to be able to last?”Gabby smiled at him. “Ken, you've been wonderful tonight. You kissed me like I was the only woman in the world, ate my pussy, and survived one of my world-famous blowjobs. Believe me, you're no slouch. You've lasted Ken, and made me orgasm twice in the process!” She leaned closer, whispering in his ear, “Cum for me, right in my pussy. I want it. I need it. Please don't hold back. Give it all; to me.”That did it. Her masterful motions combined with her seductive voice were too much for poor Ken to handle. As she planted her lips firmly on his, he thrust his last into her and began to spray his seed into Gabby's pussy. Though he had masturbated many times, none of his orgasms were ever this long or powerful; it was unreal. As he finally came down from his high, Ken's cock began to soften inside her pussy, slipping out after a few seconds.“That was; amazing.” he sighed, feeling the call of sleep washing over him.“Nuh uh! No you don't, Ken!” Gabby replied with a playful slap.“Huh?”“There's one more thing for you to learn: the art of pillow talk. Trust me, Ken. You stay awake and talk to a woman after sex, and you show her she's more than just a piece of ass,” she said, rolling off to lie next to him.“Guess that makes sense,” he mused, rubbing his eyes to stay awake. “Well you asked me all about myself, and I was about to do the same when, uh; all this happened.”“Not complaining are you?” she asked with a grin as she laid her head on his shoulder.“Hell no! Still, what about Gabby? What makes her tick?”“Well, my family is the biggest part of my life, in all honesty. With Mom, Dad, plus two big brothers and a little sister, there's a lot of love to go around. We've always been tight.”“Oh yeah! You mentioned earlier about not being alone on Christmas Eve, yet you would have been alone if we hadn't met. What's up with that?”Gabby replied, “We're kinda spread across the southeast right now. One brother works in Birmingham, another in Nashville. My sister is visiting a sorority sister up in South Carolina. Mom and Dad live near here, but have been traveling. They were supposed to get in today, but their flight got delayed. Won't be seeing them until after lunch tomorrow. Still, we should have everyone together by the day after Christmas.”“Always good,” Ken smiled, wishing his own family was a close as Gabby's. Noticing the silver cross still hanging from her neck, he asked, “I guess you're pretty religious, too?”“Very much so. Born and raised Catholic.”“Yet, you're not at mass?”“Extenuating circumstances,” she replied, a slight grimace on her face.“Sorry, didn't mean for that to come out harsh. No judgment from me, promise. My mom's always been religious, but it just never spoke to me. I mean, how can a supposedly loving God allow such evil acts in the world He created?”Gabby looked up, calm confidence in her eyes. “Sometimes bad things happen to good people. That doesn't mean God causes those bad things to happen. In all things, I believe God works for good. Even in the worst situations imaginable, God manages to cause some amount of good to come from them.”“You really believe that?” Ken asked.“With every fiber of my being. It's what keeps me going.”“Well, you're the first that's been able to answer me that question in a way that makes sense. No ‘it's all in God's plan' or ‘you must not love God enough' or any such nonsense. You; you get it.”Lying there in silence for a few minutes, Ken finally found the courage to ask the question he was afraid to know the answer to.“Will I ever see you again?”A long pause, then Gabby replied, “No.”“Why? I know I go to school in Massachusetts, but I'd be a fool to give up on an incredible woman like you. Why can't we give it a shot?”With a sigh, she answered, “Because there's something you don't know about me.” Taking his face in her hands and gazing deep into his eyes, she continued, “I'm dying, Ken.”He blinked twice, uncertain if he had heard her right. “Dying?”“I have; a rare and aggressive form of grade IV brain cancer. The doctors diagnosed me about two months ago. I have less than six months to live. They said they could treat it, but it would only buy me another year at best. Even if it were successful, I'd be so weak from the chemo that I wouldn't be able to do much of anything. So, I opted for a powerful regiment of pain management and resolved to live what time I have left to the fullest. Experience all I can, spread as much joy as I can.”“This explains everything,” Ken realized. “Why you weren't scared of me in the park, even with me holding a knife. Why you didn't hesitate to invite me to your home. Why there was no concern of you getting pregnant.”“And why we can't be together, as much as I want it. Ken, I meant what I said earlier. If I could spend any amount of time, and especially years with a guy like you, I would be so lucky and blessed. You're a wonderful person, and you're going to make some girl happy beyond belief someday. Whoever she is, wherever she may be; I envy her.”“I just wish it could be you.”“I know, Ken, but you don't deserve that. You don't deserve to fall head-over-heels in love with a girl that you know will be dead in a few short months. In another lifetime, maybe we could have been soul mates. But God seems to have other plans.”“Gabby, how can you still believe in God through all this? You said that He works all things for good, but what good can come of this?”She collected her courage, deciding to tell him her darkest secret, one that not even her own family knew. “About a month ago, I was in a really bad spot. I still believed in God, but couldn't believe He would put me through such pain and suffering. I had dreams, hopes, plans; but all for naught. I got low. So low that, one night, I almost did; what you almost did.”“Take the easy way out?”“Exactly. I nearly went through with it, but at the last moment decided to sleep on it. That night, I had a dream. Someone, I don't know who, was speaking to me. ‘Your life still has meaning. You still have a purpose.' That's what they told me. There's no way that was a coincidence. When I woke up, I promised myself I'd find that purpose for my life. Tonight, I may have done just that.”“What do you mean?” Ken asked.“Ken, if I had killed myself, I wouldn't have only been responsible for my own death. I'd have also been responsible for yours. I wouldn't have been there to talk to you and convince you there was a better way.”“That's one way of looking at it, I guess,” Ken mused, pondering her realization.“There's more, Ken. You're going to be a brain surgeon. I have no doubt about that. If I'm not there tonight, how many lives are lost in the future because Dr. Ken Dix isn't around to save them? How many children have their lives snuffed out from you not being there to ward off the hand of Death? You are going to help so many people in your life, Ken. I can't tell you how happy that makes me.”“And all that is worth the horrible death you're destined for?”“Absolutely,” she replied without hesitation.Shaking his head, Ken said, “You're a far better human being than I am.”Kissing him lightly on the cheek, Gabby whispered, “Don't sell yourself short. You had a moment of weakness, but walked back from the brink. Doesn't matter how or why, the fact is you didn't go through with it. Hang on to that.”“So there's one thing that still confuses me.”“What's that?”“With you being as religious as you are, I still don't get why you aren't at mass tonight? It's Christmas Eve, after all.”“Well; shortly after my diagnosis, I had a falling out with Father Maxwell. He was comforting at first, but soon began trying to convince me to allow him to pray over me for healing. He said that my tumor ‘was not unlike that of a demon needing to be exorcised.' That hurt me deeply. If I had let him pray over me for healing, yet was not healed, the logical argument could be made that God refused to listen! Good people get sick and are cut down too soon, but that doesn't mean that they didn't pray hard enough or that they didn't love God enough. After those conversations; I couldn't take anything that man said seriously. I've made my peace with God; that's more than enough for me.”Nodding, Ken replied, “I think you made the right call, and that's not just ‘cause I'm a religious cynic. Your reasons make perfect sense.”Gabby smiled and snuggled up in the crook of his arm, pulling the blanket over them in the process. “Thank you, Ken. For everything. I can't tell you how thankful I am to have met you tonight.”Kissing her on the forehead, he whispered, “Merry Christmas, Gabby.”Christmas Morning.Gabby awoke on Christmas morning feeling surprisingly cold. Turning over, she saw that the other side of the sleeping bag was now empty; Ken had already gone, it seemed. As she rubbed her eyes awake, she found a piece of paper on his pillow with a note written on it.Gabby,I'm so sorry for leaving before you woke up, but I think it will be less painful this way for both of us. I'm guessing from your statements last night that you've fallen for me, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't crazy for you. As much as I want us to be together, deep down I know you're right. It's just not meant for this lifetime.I want to thank you for giving this religious cynic the most valuable insights on God, that he's ever heard in his life. I have a lot to mull over and some serious questions to ask myself, about the man I want to become. Though I never said it out loud, I'm so sorry that I considered killing myself. It was selfish and shortsighted of me. Thanks to you, I realize that now.Gabrielle Libertine, you are truly one of God's gifts to mankind. For me, you're an Angel of Mercy; descended from on high at just the moment I needed you most. I promise you, from this day on, I will never again consider killing myself. You have my word of honor. In your memory, I am now devoted to finding my purpose in life. I do want to help people. I do want to save lives. I do want to find a special girl to spend my life with. And thanks to you, I still can. Thank you for everything, Gabby. I pray that your life will be full of joy and happiness.All my love, Kenneth Dix.P.S. Merry Christmas to you and your family.Tears of joy streamed down her face as she read his message. Gabby had hoped that her efforts might in some small way have an impact on Ken, but to see such immediate effects was more than she could have ever hoped for. To bring about such direct improvements in a young man's life was truly the greatest purpose she could ever imagine in her life. She no longer had any doubt in her mind; this was God's intention all along. Perhaps she had lost the love of her life, but she had also saved the love of her life, giving him a second chance at love in the process.“Merry Christmas, Ken. God speed,” she whispered, kissing her fingers and touching them to the paper.The sound of a phone ringing from the sofa interrupted her thoughts. Reaching over, Gabby saw that it was her mom.“Hey Mom! Merry Christmas; Yes, I slept in front of the tree; Oh, your flight's already here? Awesome! Lemmie get dressed, and I'll come get you guys; Love you too. Bye.”Mother's House.Ken pulled up to his mom's house in a taxi around seven that morning. Before he was even halfway up the driveway, Helen was already running out to meet him, wrapping him in a tight hug.“Ken! Thank God you're alright!”“I'm fine, Mom. No worries.”Taking his hand, she said, “Come on, Uncle Lee wants to talk to you. He's up in your room.”Ken climbed the stairs in relative silence, pondering what sort of conversation awaited him. Arriving at his room, he entered, closing the door behind him. Uncle Lee sat at his desk chair.“Ken.”“Uncle Lee.”The two eyed each other for several seconds, the tension growing in the room.“Mom said you want to talk to me,” Ken said, sitting on his bed.“Yeah, I do. Ken; I was a real ass yesterday.”“That's not really fair;”“No. No, it is. You were right about everything. A real man stands up for his family, lends a hand to someone being ganged up on. Truth is; I was afraid to get involved yesterday. I was afraid if I did; you'd never learn to be self-sufficient. Fact is I was a coward. Plain and simple.”Sitting for a moment, Ken replied, “It's alright, Uncle Lee. We're still family, after all.”“Glad to hear you say that,” Lee said, rising to shake his nephew's hand. “Now, as my apology, how ‘bout you and I pay a visit to this Jason character? Make sure he knows what's what.”“That's; really kind of you, Uncle Lee, but I'm not interested.”“Not interested?”“Jason Brown's a fucking dumbass!” Ken said with a laugh. “He's peaked in his life; even he knows that. It's all downhill for him from here on out. Me? I'm going places. Hell, I'm on scholarship at MIT, aiming to go to Harvard Medical in a few years. Why should I care what a stupid jock thinks of me?”Lee studied his face for a few moments. “There's something different about you, Ken. You've got this look in your eye. ‘I don't know where I'll end up, but wherever it is, I'm going to be kicking ass.' That's what it says to me. What's up? What did you do last night?”Thinking of Gabby, Ken smiled and answered, “Just; took some time alone, found a bit of peace and quiet. That's where I do my best thinking. It let me put things into perspective, figure out what's most important to me.”“Huh. Well whatever you did, I like the results. Still as smart as ever; but somehow more confident.”“Thanks.”“So what was Jason so hot about, anyhow?”“Ah, he had seen me talking to his sister, Jacqueline. She and I had been partners a lot in school, and I stopped to chat when I saw her in the parking lot. He didn't like that.”“Seems like none of his fuckin' business.”“Yeah, but she's just as mean as he is, deep down. She's just really good at hiding it until the opportune moment; for her, of course,” Ken explained.“She shot ya down in the worst possible way, eh?” Lee realized.“Yeah,” Ken said, recalling his lowest moment from last night. “Her loss, though.”“Damn right, it is! Come on, we got presents to open,” Lee said jovially, leading the way down the stairs.The Gravesite.“Come on, Tiffany. It's this way.”“Where are we going, Ken? What's so important that we have to wait until tomorrow to leave for our honeymoon?”“You'll see. It's just up ahead. Besides, all our patients are in good hands with Dr. Nguyen. We've got all the time in the world.”“Always the hopeless romantic.”Ken clutched the hand of the gorgeous redhead following him, running his finger along the rings on her left hand as they went. The pair remained careful, always watching where they stepped, as several tree roots popped up from the ground along the trail. Finally, they reached their destination.“Here she is,” Ken said.The couple stood in front of a headstone, simple yet beautiful in its design. Tiffany, still confused, began to read the words carved on it.“Gabrielle Dorothy Libertine.February 10, 1993 to April 29, 2017.Loving daughter, sister, and friend.An Angel of Mercy.“Ken; who is this?” Tiffany was confused.“Well; I've told you about the night I almost killed myself. Remember how I said that there's more to the story, but I wasn't ready to tell you yet?”“Of course.”“She's the rest of the story, Tiff. Ten years ago, to this very day, Gabby arrived at the moment I needed her most; and saved my life. If it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't be here today. I'd have done it. She had no skin in the game and was going to die of cancer a few months later, but she felt called to help me nonetheless.”Turning to the headstone, he continued, “Gabby; It's me, Ken. I did it. I did everything you said I would. Became a brain surgeon, save the lives of kids every day; and I met the love of my life. This is Tiffany Sanders, or Tiffany Dix, as of yesterday. We met at Harvard. We practice medicine together, we help people; she's everything I've ever wanted. And because of everything you did for me; I made it. You saved my life, showed me what worth I had, encouraged me to find God's purpose for my life, hell you even took my virginity. Gabby, no words could ever express my gratitude for you. All I can say is; thank you.”Moved to tears, Tiffany collapsed to her knees, touching the letters on the headstone with her fingers. “You; saved my husband's life? You would spend what little time you had left on Earth helping him? My God; miracles do happen, after all. I; I love him, Gabrielle. I love him with all my heart. He completes me. Ken's always had his doubts, but I know there is a God. I know there is a Heaven. And if everything Ken said is true; that's exactly where you are today. Please, watch over us. One day, I plan to thank you in person.”Ken rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, comforting her. Tiffany began to rise to her feet, wrapping her husband in a long embrace. They shared a long, tender kiss, thinking of nothing but each other. At long last, they parted, their eyes locked together.“You ready to start our life together?” Ken asked.“Yeah; more than ever.” based on a post by auguy86, in 2 parts for Sex Stories.

Co-host: Jeff Ward. Flamping... Drew now flying his 206... New Marine One... Remote ID for RC Flying... Tipton Airport... Sidebar: Seth Miller... Washington State Airport closure... Mike S email... Minuteman Field... Impressive Bequest for 99s. All this and more on Uncontrolled Airspace Podcast. Recorded Sep 12, 2024. (56:13) [#747] [UCAP1095] {}

Q&A can destroy your personal brand. Creating and delivering the presentation sees you in 100% total control.  You have designed it, you have been given the floor to talk about it, all is good.  However, the moment the time comes for questions, we are now in a street fight.  Why a street fight?  Because in a street fight there are no rules and the Q&A following a presentation is the same – no rules.  “Oh, that's not right” you might be thinking.  “What about social norms, propriety, manners, decorum – surely all of these things are a filter on bareknuckle duking it out in public?”.   That is correct but it is not a guarantee.   When doing public speaking, there are different personality types assembled in the room.  In Japan, often the English language presentation occasions are like mini-United Nations' assemblies, in terms of national representation.  Different social norms apply in countries apart from your own. My French friends tell me the French educational system promotes critique of statements and ideas and that is seen as an illustration of superior intellect. My fellow Australians are often sceptical, doubting and don't hesitate to mention it, in a direct assault on what has just been said.  There are also different personality types in the room.  Some people are naturally aggressive and want to argue the point, if the speaker has the temerity to say something they disagree with.  What is considered rude, aggressive or inappropriate behaviour is a relative judgment depending on where you grew up, how you were educated and how you individually see the world.  Even in Japanese society, there are occasions where there is heated arguement and a lot of the typical Japanese restraint is out the window.  As the speaker, we are pumped full of chemicals when we get up to present.  If we are nervous, then the flight or fight adrenaline chemicals are released by the Amygdala inside our brain.  We cannot stop this, but we can control it.  It is interesting that if this state is held for a long period of time, we lose the feeling of strength and have a sense of weakness.  A forty minute speech is a long time to be in a heightened state and by the time we get to the Q&A, we may be feeling denuded of strength.  Just at the moment when we come under full force street fighting attack.  The face of the speaker is a critical indicator during the Q&A.  I caught myself shaking my head to indicate disagreement with what was coming my way in the form of a question during the Q&A.  Without initially realising it, I was sending out a physical sign that I wasn't accepting the questioner's bead of disagreement to what I had been pontificating.  From an audience point of view, this looks like you are inflexible, closed to other opinions and just dismissive of anyone with an opinion that differs from your own.  Even if you are not a rabid head shaker like I was, the expression on your face may be speaking volumes to your audience.  You might be displaying a sceptical visage of doubt and rejection of what is being said before you have heard the whole argument out.  You might even be pumping blood into your face so that it goes red in colour.  There is a female businesswoman I know here, whose skin goes bright red when she is in the public eye and begins to look like one of those warning beacons.  There is probably nothing she can do about that, but it is definitely not a good look.  Or maybe your general demeanour is one of disdain for the questioner and you look arrogant and disrespectful of alternative opinions. Given the chemical surge leading to denuding of strength I mentioned earlier, we may look like we are defeated by the questioner. This impacts our credibility.  We need to be showing we are true believers in what we said and are fully committed to that line of argument.  We don't want to appear like we have collapsed in the face of pushback during the Q&A.  Maintain a brave front, even if it is all front.  The audience won't know the difference.  Nodding during the questioning is also a big mistake.  We do this in normal conversation, to show the speaker we are paying attention to them. Unfortunately, this bleeds over into public speaking events as well. I learnt this when I did media training.  The television media love it when you are nodding, because they can take that bit in the editing and transpose it to sync with the voice of the person disagreeing with you and it appears you are accepting their argument.  Very sneaky isn't it. When you pop up on the TV replay agreeing with your questioner attacking all that you have said, it is too late.  Even if there is no TV there, don't look like you are agreeing with the questioner and control that nodding right from the start.  So during Q&A maintain a totally neutral expression on your face and don't allow you head to nod.  If you feel anxiety from the question, take some secret slow deep breaths to slow down your heart rate and breathing.  Keep supremely calm and remember that really aggressive questioners look like dills or grandstanders to the rest of the audience. They usually place their sympathy with the person under attack.  We do have that Colosseum thing in us however, where we like watching blood sports and Q&A can come under that category.   So we have to appear above the fray, in control, calm, reasonable and assured of what we are saying.  Control your temper, don't cut them off mid-question, leave a pregnant pause after they have finished, to allow some of the tension to dissipate, then lob in a cushion or neutral statement to give you thinking time and then answer their question.   Here is a killer technique for obstreperous questioners.  When you start to answer their question, give them 100% eye contact for six seconds to show you won't be intimidated. Next switch your six second eye contact to various other members of the audience and never look at the questioner again.  By publicly and completely ignoring them, you take all the air out of their puffed up ego and you decimate them through denial of attention. Q&A must be an extension of the triumph of your presentation.  In the same way we plan for our triumph, plan for the Q&A too.  Don't leave this to chance.  Twenty minutes under direct attack during the Q&A can seem like a lifetime.  We have to be ready to weather the storm and emerge victorious

Sometimes it gets hard to say the right words.By kittybeaver, in 5 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Dirk's biceps flexed and contracted as his arm moved in long strokes up and down the front of his pants. Tina tried to be shocked and appalled by his actions, but the part of her that controlled lower brain functions found it mesmerizing."What are you doing?""Switching on video recording," Fact-Tel said. "I'm sure we'll want this for the archives.""I was able to identify General Zero," Dirk said, his arm keeping its slow, steady pace "and follow him--""Dirk. Dirk!" she interrupted. "Why are you, " The shadows shifted on the front of his pants as a shape began to emerge, the shape of something large and thick. Tina licked her lips. "Why are you touching yourself?""It's a long story. I don't want to get into it.""I think you have to."He looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. "I told you about my dad, right?""Yes," Tina said. "He's a magician.""A wizard," Dirk corrected, "and for reasons that are unimportant, he put a spell on me so I can't talk unless I have a hard-on."She took a moment to absorb the information. "And I thought your relationship with your mother was weird.""I should probably be in therapy," he agreed, his hand still down the front of his pants. "Back to my report. I followed General Zero from the nightclub down to the docks, where he met with a short man in a parka and then, Tina you're drooling.""Oh, sorry." She wiped the back of her hand across her chin. "Remind me again what your mission was. I'm drawing a blank.""Is it because I'm jerking off?" he asked.She nodded. "It's a little, a little, actually it's a good size." She tore her eyes away from his pelvis. "Maybe you can write out your report.""Okay," Dirk said. "I need a pen and a piece of paper.""Wash your hands first," Fact-Tel said. It made no attempt to hide the disdain in its machine generated voice.By the time Dirk's hands were clean, Tina had placed a pen and notebook on her desk and pulled out her chair for him to sit."It's much easier to think when you're not, you know, doing that," she said.He only nodded and silently began to write.It took several minutes for him to fill up the page, but once he was done he handed her the notebook and sat back, his arms crossed in front of his chest."Your handwriting is atrocious." Tina scanned the page. "What does this say? Tiger print motif?" She tossed the notebook back on the desk. "I can't read this. We're going to have to add penmanship to your training. In the meantime, use the computer and type your report.""Did you clean underneath your fingernails?" Fact-Tel asked."Never mind that," Tina said. "We'll disinfect later, just type."If only it was that simple. Dirk's skill set as a male-model didn't include touch typing. He pecked at the keyboard with his middle fingers. Laboriously, one letter at a time, the words began to form. Tina paced the floor behind him, drumming her fingers on her thighs.So little was known about General Zero. They didn't even have a good description of him. If Dirk's report was thorough enough, they'd finally be able to fit together the pieces of what was undoubtedly an evil plot. Only then would they be able to formulate their own plan to stop it.She was peering over his shoulder to see how far he'd gotten, when he started to hit the backspace button."No," she gasped. "Don't do that."Dirk rocked back and forth, grinding his crotch against the desk leg for a minute before saying, "I misspelled corduroy."That morning if someone had said to Tina, 'Tonight you're going to rip open your blouse and shove your coworker's face into your cleavage,' she would have laughed at their preposterous prediction. Now, in a moment of desperation, she did just that."Does this help?" she asked while she pushed Dirk's nose between her breasts."A ribble bi," he responded, his voice muffled by her bountiful flesh.She pushed his head back to prevent suffocation. "Keep your eyes on these." She pointed to her boobs, certain that Dirk would be able to make out her nipples through her lacy black bra. "Fact-Tel, record audio and disable video," she called to the AI. "I repeat, disable video.""Fine," Fact-Tel intoned. "Whatever. It's not like I get off on this sort of stuff."Tina ignored the Artificial Intelligence and studied Dirk for a moment. "Are you going to be able to continue with your debriefing?""I guess," he said. His words were slow and not well articulated."How about now?" She started to bounce up and down on her toes. It was a subtle movement, but it was enough to send her breasts jiggling."Yes." His voice was strong and clear. "That is, very effective.""Good." Tina continued to bounce. "Let's start with a description of General Zero."Dirk happily obliged. "He's about 5'6" and approximately 165 lbs.""What about facial features?" she asked. "Were there any identifying scars or tattoos?""Not that I saw?""How about hair and eye color?""Nah." His words were starting to slur. "He wore a hoodie and mirrored sunglaffies."Tina lifted higher on her toes and dropped faster, causing her breast to bounce more. "What about skin color?""It was dark in the club." Dirk regained his enunciation. "The flashing lights made it hard to tell. Honestly, I'm not certain General Zero is a man."Tina tried to nod her understanding, but it got lost in the bounces. "Until further notice Zero's pronouns will be 'they,' 'their' and 'them.'"I followed Zero down to the docks," Dirk continued, "where they met with a short man in a parka. I know he was a man because of the unkempt facial hair and tacky fedora.""It's midsummer," she said, thinking out loud. "Why was he wearing a parka?""I ohn't gnow."Without putting much thought into it, Tina began to bounce even harder, but by this time her movements were so violent Dirk actually pushed his chair back and put his hands up to protect his face."Fine, fine." She stopped bouncing and spoke in a calming voice. "We'll try something else." Then she reached behind her back and undid the clasp on her bra. The straps slid off her shoulders and the bra fell to the floor, leaving Tina quite topless. She could feel her nipples harden as an air-conditioned breeze brushed passed them. "Did Zero and the parka man do anything other than talk?"Dirk tilted his head from one side to the other and a dreamy smile spread across his face. "Yeah. Crates were being offloaded from a ship onto a truck. Parka man opened one of the crates for Zero to inspect."Tina placed her hand on the desk and leaned forward. "Now we're getting somewhere.""We certainly are," Dirk sighed. "Can I touch them?"She rolled her eyes. "Keep it professional, Agent Allen.""Sorry." He sat up straight and clenched his hands into fists in his lap."Were you able to ascertain what was in the crates?""Esh, des amps"Tina rolled her eyes again, then she grabbed Dirk's hands and not so gently placed them against her breasts.The weight of Tina's breasts settled nicely onto Dirk's palms. There was something so pure about squeezing her soft, warm flesh. It was calming, yet stimulating. It sent him right to his happy place and definitely helped him pop a chub."The crates," she said."Right." Dirk said, his words mumbled more from shame than anything else.He was ricocheting back and forth between euphoria and embarrassment. If he didn't have to think about why he was cupping Tina's boobs, then he could really enjoy it. Yet, when he thought about what his father had done to him, how ashamed and infuriated he felt, well, it was enough to squash any man's pocket rocket. Still, he was an agent-in-training and he had a duty."Desk lamps," he said. "There were desk lamps in the crates. High quality, I think. There were tiger stripes on the lamp shades."She straightened her back slightly, forcing Dirk to extend his arms a couple inches so he could keep hold of the goods. "You really did write Tiger Print Motif?"He nodded. "I'm working on making my vocabulary, you know, ""Bigger?""That's it.""But why the lamps?" Tina shifted her weight from one hip to the other. "And why the man in the parka?""Can you stop squirming so much?" Dirk asked. "It's hard for me to cop a feel."She gave him one of her disapproving stares that made him shrivel inside. "I can't think if I have to hold still. I need to pace back and forth to figure this thing out." She took a step back, pulling away from his grasp. "It's better if you stay quiet for right now."Dirk's hands felt cold and empty, but at least he still had a nice view. Tina hadn't remembered to put her blouse back on and she was wearing a pair of finely tailored black pants. They hugged her thighs and stretched across her plump ass. The farther she moved away from him, the more of her he could take in at once."We don't know much about General Zero," she was saying as she moved across the floor in her knee high boots, "just that they're raising funds for some dastardly plan."His eyes traced the curve of her spine, from her shoulder blades down to the dimples peeking out of her trousers' waistband. Dirk appreciated the slope of her hips and the radiance of her pale skin. He found himself nodding in agreement to every step she took, as if her very movement was a statement of fact that couldn't be denied."The question is, are the lamps part of the financing or part of the plan?" She pivoted on her heels and was suddenly facing him again. He didn't mind. Her front side was just as entertaining as her back."It depends," he said as his eyes happily traced a triangle between her nipples and her bellybutton, "on what they're smuggling in the lamps.""What?" She stopped walking. "You can still talk?"It occurred to Dirk that a professional secret agent would not objectify his partner's body while she was trying to unravel a nefarious plan. He would, instead, look up statistics and make calculations in order to help solve the puzzle. The fact that Dirk was still pitching a tent made it obvious he wasn't being professional."I'm sawffy," he tried to say. The shame of his perversion was already softening his resolve."No. No." In three quick steps Tina was across the room, leaning over him and vigorously rubbing his groin. "There was something in the lamps?""Oh God." His eyes drifted shut as he sunk down in his chair."Finish the thought, Dirk," Tina commanded. "There was something in the lamps.""Maybe," he moaned. "Zero looked inside one. Why else would they do that unless, Oh yeah, Baby, you're so beautiful." If only she would unzip his fly and free him. He longed to feel skin to skin contact."Did they only look inside the lamp" she asked, her arm keeping a consistent pace, "or did they do more, like sniff it?""They touched it," he said, "then rubbed their fingers together." The pressure was building in his throbbing Johnson. His balls ached. Dirk needed release. There, in front of him, were Tina's naked breasts. They would look so good with a pearl necklace. "Squeeze me tighter. Bring me home.""No." Tina's gripped noticeably loosened. "You can't climax. Once you ejaculate you won't be able to speak again for 20 minutes to an hour.""It wouldn't be that long," Dirk protested. "Five minutes top. Please. If I don't cum soon it's going to be a medical situation.""Look at me."He did as he was told. Tina's golden-brown eyes could be cold and ruthless, but right then they held an endless supply of compassion."You're my partner," she continued. "We look out for each other. I would never leave you hanging. Do you trust me?"

The students learn which positions are best for breeding.Based on the work of firebird68. listen to the Podcast on Steamy Stories “Hi, Andrea!” Sunny called, waving as the small, brunette girl entered the room, walking briskly to her seat.“Are you feeling better?” Lindsay asked.It was a fair question. The last time they had seen her was at the end of class yesterday. When the period had wrapped up, she was still dazed and limp, totally mind-fucked in the aftermath of her overwhelming climaxes, and being cradled in Chris's arms.“Of course.” Andrea snapped, her cheeks growing bright red.“See?” Chris said from his desk across the room. “I told you she was fine. She loved it.”“I did NOT love it!” Andrea lied. “That was humiliating! Seriously, being fucked like a dog?! What kind of girl wants to be fucked like a dog??”“O, me!” Sunny waved her hand in the air. “Gosh, it was so hot watching him dominate you like that. I wouldn't mind being turned into a ragdoll for a strong man like that. Yes, please!”“God, do you ever think about anything other than dick?” Andrea scoffed.“Of course.” Sunny nodded. “I swing both ways, ya know. I think about girls, too.”She winked and blew a kiss at the flustered girl, who gawked at her, her cheeks red hot, before regaining her composure to glare at the busty blonde.“You really are hopeless.” Andrea said, hiding her fierce blush.“You gotta admit,” Samantha spoke. “You did orgasm like a bitch in heat until your brain turned off. Kinda seems as though you liked it to me. Better yet, it looked like you LOVED it.”Andrea's jaw dropped and she shook with anger, popping up from her chair to glower at the smug goth.“What did you just say?” she demanded. “I'll have you know tha-…”“Something wrong, Miss Andrea?”Andrea's eyes went wide and she quickly closed her mouth as Miss Banks walked into the room.“No, of course not, Miss Banks.” Andrea stammered. “Nothing is wrong at all.”“Good.” Miss Banks smiled. “I heard you raise your voice and naturally figured you must be upset about something. Could it have something to do with yesterday's lesson? If you have a problem with the curriculum, please let me know and we can…rectify…the problem.”Swallowing as she noticed the sinister glint hiding in her teacher's eye, Andrea shook her head profusely and sat back in her seat, hurriedly.“Absolutely not, Miss Banks!” she squeaked. “I have no issues whatsoever with your teaching!”“That's great to hear.” Miss Banks said, her smile growing wider. “Well, now that that's settled, let's jump right into today's lesson, shall we? Since we ran out of time yesterday and our session had to be cut in half, we will be continuing with sexual position basics and demonstrations today. But, before we do that, can anyone tell me what the purpose of intercourse is?”“To have fun and cum lots!” Sunny exclaimed.“That's true,” Miss Banks nodded. “But not quite the answer I am looking for in this instance.”“To grow a mutual bond between two partners and bridge their connection both physically and emotionally.” Daniel offered.“Well, that was very sweet!” Miss Banks clapped. “Yes, also very true. Good response, Daniel. You'll make a girl very happy one day if you keep that mindset. Still, though, not the answer that I'm looking for. I'm talking basic. Biological. What is the most prominent purpose behind intercourse?”Lindsay timidly raised her hand, and Miss Banks gestured to her.“To; to make babies?” she said.“Exactly!” Miss Banks confirmed. “To make babies. Or, more properly, the medical term is procreation. There are, of course, a number of different ways to define it and a whole host of vernacular associated with the act. Impregnating, inseminating, mating, breeding. Some of the more, unscientific terms include 'getting knocked up' and 'putting a bun in the oven'. I'm sure you have all heard most or all of these terms before, right?”The students all nodded, some of them avoiding the eyes of their co-eds.“As we discovered last class, different sexual positions are best suited for different purposes. There are those that are more personal and sensual, suited for loving couples, such as spooning. There are those that cater to the female, like Sunny demonstrated with the cowgirl position. There are also those that are more dominant. More; primal.”Miss Banks didn't say anything more, but everyone nonetheless turned to look at Andrea who shrunk in her chair, humiliated.“And, as expected, there are positions that are especially ideal for conception.” Miss Banks continued. “Today, we'll be going over some of those. Of course, you girls have all been required to regularly take birth control for this course, so there will be no…ahem…knocking up. But, this will give you all the basic principle on the specialties for the tasks each serves and it may help you in the future when you are ready to start a family of your own. Now then, Samantha.”Samantha swallowed and straightened as she heard her name being called.“Come up here, please. Daniel, you as well.”Miss Banks waited for them to make their way up and come to stand before her.“The two of you will be performing the most basic and natural of positions for impregnation. Missionary. This can be done with both partners on the same level, or with the female elevated. Samantha will be elevated today, as though she were on the edge of a bed. We don't have a bed here, so we'll be substituting that for my desk. You can begin when ready.”Taking a deep breath, Samantha hopped up to sit on the edge of her teacher's desk, facing the class, and leaned backwards to lay flat on her back. As her head came to hang just off the other side of the desk, she found herself staring up at the disappointed, glaring face of Miss Banks. Her teacher had her arms crossed and was wrapping her fingers on her bicep, her face hard.“Aren't we forgetting something, Miss Samantha?” she asked, a bit of an edge having crept into her voice.Realization dawned on Samantha as she remembered that she forgot to start off the demonstration with a blowjob. She went to raise herself up so that she could climb off the desk and drop to her knees, but Miss Banks' hand came down to press on her shoulder, holding her down.“Stay there, if you will.” She instructed. “Since you're already in this position, this will give us a good opportunity for you to work on your deepthroating skills again.”Samantha's face paled as she had a Vietnam flashback of herself on day one of class, in this same position, getting her throat reamed out by Tanner's donkey dick. A nervous squeak escaped her, but she didn't dare go against her teacher and remained where she was. Miss Banks saw that Daniel was kicking his way out of his dress pants and waved him over to stand behind the desk with her.“Class, come gather around, as well.” Miss Banks called out. “I want you all to have a good view of our demonstrations.”Samantha could vaguely hear the footsteps of her peers clambering around her, but her attention was much more focused on the raging erection bobbing above her. Daniel swallowed and grasped his engorged length, guiding it down to Samantha's upside-down face, and the black-haired girl reluctantly opened her lips and let him in. Letting out a low moan as his tip was bathed in the warmth of Samantha's mouth, Daniel dropped his hands to the desk on either side of her and began to rock his hips back and forth, pushing his head past her lips.“Here, Daniel, try this.” Miss Banks offered.She moved in and took his wrists, lifting them off of the desk and placing them back down on Samantha's large boobs. His fingers subconsciously squeezed down, squishing the soft globes as his palms came in contact with the teen's clothed breasts.“That's much better, right?” Miss Banks laughed. “Remember to loosen up and act accordingly. Forget the fact that you are peers and act as though she is your doting girlfriend. Use her body as a lover would. That includes her breasts. And, Samantha.”She dropped down to her knees to look the nervous girl in the eyes.“You, as well. Play the part of the doting girlfriend. Don't be scared of his cock. Embrace it. Get involved. You should want to pleasure him. Every moan he makes should make you tingle and burn with pride.”Steeling herself, Samantha tried to take her teacher's advice to heart. She began to move her tongue about, swirling it around Daniel's pumping tip as best as she could. She was rewarded with another, slightly louder moan, that did, in fact, make her swell slightly with pride. The other response from Daniel was an increase in speed and depth in his thrusts. He began to move a bit deeper into her mouth, poking at the back of her throat, tripping her gag reflex. Panicking slightly, she tried to move away, fearful of a repeat of her last ordeal, but Miss Banks held her in place.“Shhh.” She whispered, stroking the scared teen's cheek softly. “It's okay. You're doing fine. Just relax. Relax your throat and accept him. That's it. Relax…”Samantha hummed, nervously, but she did find comfort in her teacher's gentle stroking. Easing up her tensed muscles, she took a long breath through her nose, forcing herself to relax. To her surprise, on the very next stroke, Daniel's tip slid right past the tight barrier to her throat and half of his length disappeared between her lips. Miss Banks smiled at the newfound progress and continued to brush her fingers across the girl's cheek, murmuring words of encouragement and occasional advice.Closing her eyes, Samantha allowed herself to do everything that Miss Banks told her to. Her muscles and tendons went lax. She focused solely on breathing through her nose, to the exclusion of all else. Of course, she was still gagging and choking quite frequently, but it wasn't nearly as violent as before and she was now able to regroup much faster and take the reflex in stride. Becoming more and more used to the motions and more receptive, she re-engaged her tongue to rub against the top of Daniel's cock as it moved on the track of her neck.Feeling something smack into her face, Samantha opened her eyes, confused. She was just in time to watch as Daniel's heavy balls came swinging back into her face, tapping her lightly before rebounding. That could only mean…she was taking his entire length! She couldn't believe it. Just a few minutes ago, even entering her throat seemed like an impossibility. But now, here she was, his full seven and a half inches of thick meat sliding down her gullet with relative ease. She had done it! And, Miss Banks was right. She did feel a burning pride at having accomplished the feat. The pleasured groans and sighs floating down from Daniel were just another cherry on top.“That will do, Daniel.” Miss Banks said. “We don't want you finishing just yet, and not in that hole. This is, of course, a demonstration on fertility positions.”Samantha felt the raging shaft retreat fully from her throat, leaving her mouth completely empty. Raising her head, she was once again greeted by her teacher's face. This time, however, Miss Banks was beaming down at her pupil, eyes shining and smiling wide.“That was wonderful, Samantha!” she praised. “Excellent work! See what a little dedication and focus can do? Do you feel that pride burning in you?”Samantha nodded, coughing slightly to clear her throat.“Good! And what else do you feel?”“I feel…” Samantha paused.The burning had moved its way out from her chest and was now spread throughout her whole body, particularly between her legs.“I feel horny.” She admitted.“Yes!” Miss Banks crowed. “Perfect. Take it from there, Daniel.”Samantha felt Daniel lift her legs and assisted him, pointing her limbs skyward, her skirt falling down around her waist. Today, she had forgone her typical pantyhose in lieu of some thigh-high stockings. Daniel's fingers fumbled around her waistline, grasping the hem of her tiny, lace panties and sliding them out from under her. The small piece of fabric went up her legs, over the stockings, over her shoes, and then somewhere off to the side, discarded. Spreading her thighs, he moved between them, and Miss Banks leaned across the desk, reaching between them to guide his penis to Samantha's pussy, prodding against her already-wet slit.Samantha gasped as she felt the hard tip of Daniel's erection rub against her opening. She bit her lower lip and tried to keep her head up, but her neck was getting tired. Seeing the girl's head start to slump down, Miss Banks sat down in her chair and wheeled it up behind her. She gently lifted the teen's head and rolled in beneath her, letting her head back down to rest on her large breasts. Grateful for the soft pillow of her teacher's bust, Samantha relaxed her neck, her head now at the perfect angle to see over her own impressive chest and watch the action.Taking a deep breath, Daniel rubbed his tip down her entrance one last time and then pushed in, driving his cock slowly and steadily in to the base. The teens both gasped and moaned as their union was completed and they became connected at the hips. They stared into each other's eyes, their mouths open and breathing heavily. Samantha whimpered and closed her eyes, feeling Daniel shift slightly inside of her. He wasn't the biggest in the class, but that was hardly a good bar to judge his size by. He was still well above average, particularly with his girth, and he was much bigger than anything she had played with up to that point.Miss Banks listened closely to the girl's sounds and gently massaged her shoulders, urging her to relax like she had earlier. She kept rubbing her until she felt the knotted muscles finally ease up and her breathing evened out a bit. Samantha opened her eyes again as her tight cunt adjusted to the thick rod stretching her out. Daniel was still gazing back at her, concern permeating his expression. Chewing on her lip, Samantha met his questioning look and nodded her approval, signaling for him that it was okay to start moving.Acting on her consent, Daniel withdrew his hips, making them both gasp again as his throbbing shaft rubbed against her snug walls. When only the tip remained, he reversed course and drove back in, just as slowly. Upon bottoming out and receiving a cry of pleasure from Samantha, he retracted again and started to get a slow, but steady rhythm going. She felt absolutely incredible. Her pussy was so, so tight and wet. It was so much better than any fleshlight he had ever used before to satiate his teenage male hormones. After a minute or two of nothing but satisfied moans from both of them, he kicked the pace up a notch, moving a bit faster.With a jolt, Samantha realized that this was her first-time having sex. With a real person, that is. Her fingers and toys didn't count. No, this was officially her very first time being fucked. And it felt so…right! God, she couldn't believe what she was missing out on all this time. Maybe now she understood Sunny a little bit better.Actually, no. It wouldn't just work with any old boy. Daniel was rather exceptional at fucking her at just the right way for her specific needs. He was moving well, but not too fast to make it uncomfortable. And on top of that, his cock! It was as though it was made specifically with her pussy in mind. It was nice and big, but not so big that it hurt. More important than the length, though, was the girth. It stretched her wide and made her feel so deliciously full. And the shape was just perfect for rubbing against her G-spot in addition to every little sensitive place inside of her.That was without mentioning all the other little things his hands were doing. In the fray, he had tugged her turtleneck shirt and untucked it from her loose skirt so that his hands could slide under it and grip her waist. The skin-on-skin contact was far more satisfying than when there was a cloth barrier separating them, and Daniel was taking full advantage of that, even if it was miniscule in detail. His fingers rubbed and stroked her sides and grabbed at her firmly. To Samantha, the feeling of his fingers against her bare skin was like a hot iron of lust sizzling on her hips.Samantha was losing herself in the heat of the situation. She could feel her reason and sanity slipping away in the face of her looming orgasm and the utter bliss that she was experiencing. So, this is what it had been like for Andrea? Fuck, she could really get used to this. She was panting like a bitch in heat and sweating profusely. Just when she thought it couldn't get any more intense and erotic, Miss Banks arms came up and wrapped around her to squeeze her shirt covered breasts. It would surely have been better had she been fully nude, but just the firm pressure against her sensitive globes was sufficient to send her rocketing over the cliff.As soon as the first spasm rolled through Samantha's pussy, Daniel lost his own battle and came with her, shooting a large shot of cum into her depths. A millisecond later, Samantha's legs whipped up and wrapped around him, yanking him fully into her until her pussy lips were kissing his twitching balls. Daniel felt the soft nylon material of Samantha's stocking-clad legs that were locking him in place, and groaned, sending off a second, equally copious jet of jizz in her. Gripping her hips just as tightly as her legs were holding him, they both stayed perfectly still, save for their uncontrollable trembling.Even after their mutual climaxes had come and gone, they still stayed frozen in place, Daniel's rigid dick still lodged inside of her. Samantha could feel the enormous load that he had stuffed inside of her. It felt so incredibly warm and utterly filling. She knew that she was packed to the gills with virile, potent sperm. If she wasn't on birth control, she would undoubtedly be sporting a baby bump in a few months' time.Her mind still swimming and foggy, she reached up and grabbed Daniel's sweaty face, pulling him down to her where their lips met in a passionate embrace. They eagerly swapped spit, their tongues swirling and intertwining for a couple minutes until Daniel's cock was soft enough that it slipped out of her hot, grasping hole on its own, making Samantha gasp into his mouth. Tightening his hold on her hips, he lifted her rear up slightly to allow gravity to keep his semen stuck inside her until her pussy closed back up, sealing it in on its own.When they finally broke their lip-lock, they both looked up and were met with the speechless faces of their peers. The students all gawked at them, utterly shocked and unbelievably turned on by the over-the-top-hot display they had been witness to. The boys all adjusted their pants and the girls all subconsciously rubbed their thighs together, even Andrea, although she was more sly and embarrassed about it. Miss Banks grinned down at them, overjoyed, Samantha's head bouncing slightly on her boobs as her teacher laughed with delight.“That was immaculate!” she praised. “I couldn't ask for a better demonstration. You two have some chemistry, I think. Students, did you all see how her legs wrapped around him, holding him in her? That's a classic, biological response that serves the breeding purpose. It's involuntary and happens when the female is lost in the carnal desire, her sole focus on ensuring impregnation. That was a pleasure to watch and I think you both deserve some extra credit for a remarkable performance. You two can take a seat on the couch in the back to catch your breath and get yourselves together before joining us for the next demonstration.”

Our God gives us his word amen. This rejoice, and be glad in his word for Jesus said the kingdom of God is among you. Amen Jesus said, seek you first the righteousness of God, and all these things will be added on to you. See you for the righteousness of Godno see you first the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things she'll be added onto a man and amen. It's been a long day and I'm knocked out. Nodding out. God bless you. Let's get out there and give them heaven. Amen.

He agrees to be her ‘focus group' for demoing toys in the adult toy store. (fetish) By Norweger.  Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. ‘Can I help you?' I glanced aside from the colourful products on display right in front of me, blushing mildly. The shopkeeper had done the rounds, and I, being lost in thought in front of the ‘Toys; male, solo' shelf hadn't noticed her approaching. Well, I could hardly deny I was thinking of buying a Fleshlight, as I held one; well, a securely wrapped one, luckily; in my hands as I met her friendly gaze. ‘I, ah…' Fuck. Going to an adult toy shop shouldn't be embarrassing, should it? My cheeks and earlobes grew pretty pink. ‘Well, I'm just browsing, to be honest, I…' [[MORE]] She nodded. 'Those are real good, by the way.' She giggled. ‘Well, good quality. Easy to keep clean. Rugged. For obvious reasons, I haven't taken one for a test drive myself.' I chuckled, feeling my awkwardness recede a bit. That's one way of putting it. ‘For obvious reasons…' I thought before answering ‘Well, I could hardly expect you to have, could I? That being said, shops like this are quite particular, no? Normally, asking the shopkeeper for recommendations and whether she'd used the product herself would be reasonable, but here, I guess it would get me me-too'd right away? How do you actually reply if someone holds up something and asks, well, is this one any good?' I smiled weakly while feeling my cheeks getting rosier again, hoping I hadn't overstepped any bounds. I got a chuckle for my trouble. ‘Well, please try to keep the exciting images out of your mind, but to tell you the truth, we do test quite a lot of the stuff we sell.' She blushed a little, herself. ‘Well, we must buy them, of course, though at a steep discount.' She turned her gaze down as the sentence trailed off, giving me a chance to look her over without being too obvious about it as the images she'd been warning me about started to manifest themselves to my inner eye. I guessed she could be in her early thirties, a few years younger than me. Quite cute, slender, narrow hips, a loose-fitting, turquoise sweater doing its best to hide her ample bosom… I'd already undressed her in my mind, trying to imagine her testing the huge dildos in the glass display cabinet right behind her. Oh no, I hadn't been blushing earlier. Now; NOW I was blushing. She lifted her gaze again and giggled. ‘Let me guess. Exciting images?' I could hardly deny it, and she could hardly take affront, either. I turned my own gaze down, intensely studying my rather rumpled leather boots. There was no way in hell I'd be able to meet her stare while saying it. ‘Oh, guilty as charged.' I made a helpless gesture with my arm towards the toys on display ‘I imagined both this and that, I'll admit.' ‘Well, there's a reason we don't have fitting rooms, you know!' Her giggle turned to a quick laugh which she stifled as quickly. I felt my mood rise just by hearing it; it had a chirping quality, sounded almost like a bird's cry. In improving spirits; and, frankly, quite turned on; this young, cute woman had more or less told me that she test ran a lot of the toys in the store. Now my eyes wandered around the room, desperate not to meet her stare, while every time I saw something titillating I imagined her using it on herself. Not that there was anything extraordinary about a woman in her thirties enjoying herself, but the mere thought, as she was standing two feet away from me… Fuck. I was rock hard. I hoped it wasn't too obvious. Here goes nothing. Had I first said A, I might as well say B, too. I felt a bit braver, thinking we could spin a bit on this, while still keeping it innocent. She looked amused, too. ‘That's kind of unfair, though, isn't it? Any woman walking into this store can get, ah, expert advice, whereas I, as a man, will have to take your word for it ‘Oh, this one is good; I haven't tried it, but it is good, believe me!' She laughed. Loud. ‘I swear to all that's holy, had we ever had a male shop assistant here, he'd be loaded down with all the male solo toys we could muster and be told to test the hell out of them; and take notes while he was at it!' She turned serious. ‘Wouldn't do you much good, though; I'd be most surprised if there's even a single man in town who'd casually ask another if that sex toy of his was any good or not.' I'd have to give her that. Chitchatting about sex did come a lot easier when I did it with a woman. ‘Just that. There's a reason we're all women working here,' she smiled. ‘Women sell better to both men and women than, say, a fifty-something, balding, pudgy male in a soiled T-shirt and sweat pants.' She chuckled. ‘Beg your pardon for letting my prejudices shine through, by the way.' I laughed out loud again, realizing I was getting close to asking her what she did once she'd closed shop; she had, in a few minutes since I'd become aware she even existed, shown herself to be one of those all too rare people who could get me in a good mood simply by being there; and that she could quip about sex and seemingly be at ease was an added bonus. Plus, of course, she was incredibly cute. I caught the warm, brown eyes peering out under her unruly mop of reddish hair, trying to come up with a suitable response before the silence became awkward or she trotted on through the shop, ending our moment. She glanced down at her watch, and my heart sank like a stone; opportunity wasted, I thought; until I heard what she had to say. ‘Look… Now I want you to be real careful; not getting the wrong idea as to what I am suggesting, okay? You are not going to have sex with me, capisce?' Well, she had my full and undivided attention, even if I wouldn't get to sleep with her. I nodded, firmly. No fucking her. OK. ‘I'm about to close shop, now. If you, ahem, would like to test the fleshlight before you buy it, you can do so, okay? But, you're going to have to buy it afterwards, obviously. The lube is on the house.' I gawked at her. Wow. I nodded, numbly. This couldn't be, could it? But I wouldn't want to miss this for the world. I nodded again, vigorously. She smiled a quick smile, then went to the entrance to lock the doors, glancing over her shoulder at me as she did so, throwing me another smile. Returning, she grabbed a bottle of lube from a shelf, and motioned for me to follow her as she walked past. As if I needed any prodding. ‘It'd probably be best to use our office, rather than have you go at it here under the bright lights,' she suggested softly. I just shrugged. I'd follow her anywhere. My cock was rather a simpleton. As we exited a door with a 'staff only' sign at the back of the shop, we entered the kind of storeroom you'll find somewhere in any shop in the world; shelves stocked with all kinds of goods, except… Well, these goods were very much adult toys. Darting past a crate packed to the gunwales with inflatable dolls; inflated!, she giggled ‘Meet last year's Christmas decorations; we couldn't sell them, but neither could we bring ourselves to throw them away…' I shook my head, dumbfounded. She nodded towards a green door near the corner of the storeroom ‘That's where you'll get to find out if the fleshlight is any good…' She opened the door, hinges groaning. ‘I've been meaning to grease those for ages, wonder if I can use this lube?' she mused as we entered a small-ish, run-down office. Lots of papers were covering just about any horizontal surface; a desk with a computer and a phone on it and a small coffee table in front of a battered old sofa tucked into a corner; piles of merchandise along the far wall. Nodding towards the sofa, she suggested I take a seat before seating herself on the office chair by the desk. ‘I hope you don't mind me watching. After all, I have a certain, um, professional interest in seeing how you get along with it, you know.', throwing me another smile; a warm, seemingly genuine one. She didn't appear to be wholly untouched, herself. I fumbled with the packaging. What sadist had invented welded plastic? Probably a good thing when it came to protecting sex toys on display, but when you were about to unwrap it to try it out? Not so much. My audience reached for a pair of scissors and motioned for me to lob her the fleshlight. ‘You get out of your jeans, I'll get this out, OK?' she suggested. I nodded, still not trusting my voice to bear. I hardly needed any more encouragement. I tugged at my belt, seconds later dropping my jeans to the floor, stepping out of them. My briefs were unceremoniously shoved down my thighs, and as I rose again, my almost painfully erect cock pointed arrogantly at the ceiling, the shopkeeper raising her eyebrows a little and giggling softly as she took the sight in while cutting open the packaging separating me from instant bliss. With a satisfied ‘Hah! Finally!' she pulled the fleshlight from its by now shredded plastic cover and reached over to hand it to me. I shamelessly ogled her cleavage before reverting to holding her gaze. ‘As I said, this is good shit. You won't be able to destroy this one during normal use…' She proceeded to explain how important it was to clean it after use, stressing that they had both suitable toy cleaner and disinfectant in the store. ‘Most gentle for the silicone, that stuff; unlike the dish soap most people tend to use…' Her sentence trailed off, apparently she got struck by the same thing I had; that this was an absurd time to discuss maintenance. ‘My apologies, I got a bit carried away. Here.' Accepting the toy, I glanced over at the bottle of lube perched on the edge of her desk. Turning around, she reached the bottle and spun back to present it to me. ‘There you go, put lots in the fleshlight, some around the entrance and a little on your johnson, and you're good to go.' Nodding, I did as she had suggested; an ample spurt of lube into the pale, pink thingy, then a little around the sculpted pussy lips. Bah, in a way it would have been better if they hadn't tried so hard to make it look like the real thing. ‘Seeing as you wanted my observations, I think it would have been better if it was just an opening, not modeled to look like a real pussy; you know, no matter how good this may turn out to be, it can't possibly compare to the real thing…' ‘Doh,' she exclaimed as she rolled her eyes. ‘I should have mentioned that, there's a neutral version, too; and, believe it or not, a few which are supposedly modeled after famous porn stars' pussies, whether you believe it or not. Anyway, they probably all feel the same; just look at something, anything else while you're using it.' I'd be lying if I claimed I thought it would matter much what it looked like once it was wrapped around me. Squirting a wee bit of lube in the palm of my hand, I stroked myself a couple of times, ensuring I got some on the purplish, swollen head, too; unless I slipped in unhindered, I'd be sore afterwards, of that I was certain. Positioning the fleshlight against the glans, I looked over at the shopkeeper. She stared back, eagerly anticipating my next move; not that she'd have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what that would be. Gently pressing the fleshlight towards me, I slid into my first silicone pussy. It was just tight enough to feel natural-ish, I'd hand the designers that; but it felt rather cold and, well, dead. ‘What's it like?' she asked, voice quivering slightly. ‘Oh, not too bad,' I replied ‘Though it does feel a bit cold and. ah, dead, if I may say so at the moment, but that should improve shortly…' Giving it a couple of strokes, I could already feel it begin to warm up. She raised her stare from my fleshlight-wrapped member to meet mine. ‘Fuck me, I really am not doing my job properly, now; I just remembered that the manufacturer recommend that you put it in warm water for a few minutes before use, precisely to avoid that corpse bride-feeling. My apologies.' I nodded. ‘That'd probably do the trick, I'm sure. However…'; I let it slide back and forth a few times, feeling the soft silicone caress my oh-so-erect cock; ‘it does feel really good, don't get me wrong; and it keeps getting warmer by the second!' Having said that, I stroked myself in silence for a few moments, slowly, deliberately; pulling it off me until my cock emerged from it, exposing the swollen, lube-glistening head for my very attentive audience, then shoving myself into it again. Oh yes, it felt better and better. While no one would ever mistake it for the real thing; well, no one who had ever had the good fortune to have the real thing wrapped around oneself, anyway; it definitely felt good, much better than a simple handjob. ‘It keeps getting better,' I grunted. ‘Would work better still if one could take it out of the casing, though; you know, to adjust the pressure, using it as a sleeve over my cock; would feel more alive, then.' She nodded. ‘I'll keep that in mind, in case someone asks. I believe you can take it out for cleaning, by the way; so you could probably, um, go au-naturel on it, if that's your preference.'; before again staring at my cock sliding in and out of the toy, mesmerised. I felt like I was being on display; quite naturally, seeing as that was just what I was; but caught myself enjoying it. My audience was really cute and sexy as hell; well, truth be told, I'd probably find even Margaret Thatcher hot as fuck if she had stared at my masturbating with that sultry look my watcher now sent me; but I digress. I was turned on, way beyond what I would have been had I been doing the deed at home, alone. I coughed softly, then slowing the pace a bit as I caught her stare again. ‘Uh, I know there won't be any actual sex, that's not what I'm fishing for now, but… Would you mind, ah, could I… Well, have a little glimpse of your charms? Some bare skin? Just to help me over the edge?' I must have looked like a pleading puppy, as she burst into laughter, luckily a good-natured one. After first shaking her head, she apparently had second thoughts and nodded. I swallowed. This intensely erotic moment was about to become even hotter. Grabbing the hem of her sweater, she pulled it over her head and revealed a black, low-cut bra and ample cleavage. Lovely, pillowy, full breasts. My pace picked up. ‘Don't you think about touching me, don't even reach for me, OK?' she said, sternly. I nodded, hoping I looked like I'd be true to my word. God knows how reliable one looks when masturbating to the sight of the girl asking you to keep your hands off her. She apparently found my promise good enough, and, after reaching behind her back for a second, the bra fell into her lap and her breasts swung free. I swallowed again, almost in disbelief. They were really beautiful; round, full and pillowy, large, but not so large as to be saggy; they proudly stood form her chest, slightly pear-shaped, milky white and crowned by the largest, weakly drawn areolas I'd ever seen, pale pink, crested with nipples looking as if you'd be able to cut glass with them, so hard were they. She was amazing, and I wasted no time telling her so as my cock hardened further still inside the silicone wrapper I was now doing my best to fuck the daylights out of while keeping my eyes locked on the shopkeeper, occasionally falling to her wonderful breasts, but mostly maintaining eye contact. She leant back in her chair, her breasts gently parting. My turn to be mesmerised. I could already feel the familiar tingling telling me my strokes were numbered and my orgasm forthcoming; I'd be done for shortly. The fleshlight was now at body temperature, and felt much, much more lifelike, albeit still no match for a woman, I grunted through clenched teeth ‘no muscles milking me, no body thrust against mine, no hands feverishly stroking over my back, hugging me close as orgasm approaches; but it does feel pretty… pretty damned good!' Nodding absentmindedly, she stroked a hand over her right breast, cupping it, then pinching her nipple between her thumb and index finger, moaning softly. ‘I'm about to cum,' I grunted, snapping her back to reality. ‘Oh, please do it in that one, huh?', she nodded to an empty mug on the table between us. ‘I want to see you cum.' I nodded, feverishly working my cock with the latest addition to my meagre sex toy collection. ‘Lean forward, please', I snapped ‘I want to see those lovely tits swaying under you…' Laughingly, she obliged, leaning forward, then rocking side to side. ‘Like this, huh?' she teased, smiling warmly at me as the heavy globes swayed back and forth under her. Yes. Just like that. There was no use trying to hold back. Two more strokes, and I could feel my orgasm erupting, a tad before I'd expected it to. And here I was, figuring I had it under control… I jerked the fleshlight off my cock, throwing it on the floor, sending spurt after spurt of cum over the table, grasping for the mug, missing, shooting another spurt halfway across the room towards her; at least it felt like it; before finally grabbing the mug and shooting the last, feeble spurt into it. I felt my earlobes glow with embarrassment as I came in for landing after the massive orgasm, only to see the mess I'd made; cum streaks over invoices, a pack of cigarettes, the table itself, a lighter… My companion laughed, totally losing it in a fit of laughter, her breasts jiggling as she shook ‘You should've seen yourself!!!', she eventually gasped, regaining some control over herself. ‘It was the most absurd sight I've ever seen, so incredibly hot, you in the midst of such an orgasm, frantically trying to grab my old mug…' I joined her, a bit hesitantly at first. It had indeed been comedy hour. I hoped there wasn't a surveillance camera here, for if it did, I'd be bound to find myself on some amateur blooper reel shortly. ‘Never mind, though,' she giggled. ‘I'll get that cleaned up in no time. Without getting her sweater back on, she left the room. Seconds later I heard the tell-tale sound of water pouring from a faucet and paper being torn from a roll. She returned, hand full of tissue paper, and handed me some. ‘Here, clean yourself up; then I'll show you how to clean your latest conquest afterwards.' She leaned in over the table and cleaned up any trace of my little indiscretion. I really had to fight the urge to reach out and touch the lovely form right in front of my eyes; but managed. I'd promised, after all; and I'd had a wonderful experience, I wouldn't want to ruin it by doing anything which might scare or offend her in any way. I leaned back in the sofa while cleaning most of the lube off my semi-erect cock, softly caressing it as I stared hungrily at her, finishing up the table. I followed her to the cupboard next to the office; standing close to her; still dressed like Venus of Milo, only with arms; in the tiny room, I could feel the warmth of her body against mine as she fumbled the fleshlight open, taking out the silicone innards. ‘Just hold it under lukewarm water, first, to get rid of your cum and the lube, then wipe it clean with a little bit of the toy cleaner I'll give you when we're back in the shop and it'll be ready for its next outing.' She glanced up at me, noting my attention was on her, rather than on the most useful instructions she were supplying. ‘Better leave it outside its sheath overnight to allow it to dry properly,' she said. ‘Well, unless you find you prefer to use just the inner sleeve, of course.' Quick smile. With that, she handed the toy back to me. ‘Just head back out in the shop, you. I'll be with you in a minute, just need to get dressed.' I was treated to a smile too cute to be believed, and I was bright enough not to overstay my welcome by asking for just a few more glimpses of her. I threw a last, longing glance at her beautiful, curvy shape, met her gaze; a rather lustful one at that!; and smiled at her. ‘I'll do some window shopping, then, see if I find more playthings catching my fancy.' I then turned and briskly headed back into the shop, again passing the surreal pile of inflatable dolls, one still sporting a santa's cap. She sure took her time getting dressed; I imagined she'd figured she needed a release, too. Hell, yeah - when she appeared in the door from the storeroom, she was still basking in that wonderful post-orgasmic bliss you can spot from a mile away. ‘Getting a bit carried away, are we?' I quipped in a mock stern tone. ‘How professional is it really to masturbate in the rear while there's customers waiting in the shop, huh?' She smiled sheepishly. ‘Busted. Fuck, I was so horny while you did your thing I almost leapt at you!' I laughed. ‘Glad to hear you enjoyed yourself, too; and with any luck you now know a bit more about, ah; your inventory?' She giggles. ‘Sure do, I can't wait until the next time some sod comes by, cheekily suggesting I can't possibly know how this one feels…' She worked the till. ‘I'm giving you this at a discount,' she laughed. ‘It is the first time I've ever sold a used toy. The lube and cleaner is on the house, promise me you'll take good care of your new friend!' I promised, and took my chances embracing her briefly. ‘Mind if I come back for some more shopping sometime?' I asked, voice thick with lust. She looked at me, quizzically, then shrugged. ‘Well, I happen to have another couple of toys which I could use some user feedback on…' she suggested with a smile. ‘I'll be back in a couple of weeks,' I said by way of goodbye. Heading for the doors, I realised I'd be pounding the fleshlight again seconds after returning home. I was already hard again… By Norweger for Literotica

He agrees to be her ‘focus group' for demoing toys in the adult toy store. (fetish) By Norweger.  Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. ‘Can I help you?' I glanced aside from the colourful products on display right in front of me, blushing mildly. The shopkeeper had done the rounds, and I, being lost in thought in front of the ‘Toys; male, solo' shelf hadn't noticed her approaching. Well, I could hardly deny I was thinking of buying a Fleshlight, as I held one; well, a securely wrapped one, luckily; in my hands as I met her friendly gaze. ‘I, ah…' Fuck. Going to an adult toy shop shouldn't be embarrassing, should it? My cheeks and earlobes grew pretty pink. ‘Well, I'm just browsing, to be honest, I…' [[MORE]] She nodded. 'Those are real good, by the way.' She giggled. ‘Well, good quality. Easy to keep clean. Rugged. For obvious reasons, I haven't taken one for a test drive myself.' I chuckled, feeling my awkwardness recede a bit. That's one way of putting it. ‘For obvious reasons…' I thought before answering ‘Well, I could hardly expect you to have, could I? That being said, shops like this are quite particular, no? Normally, asking the shopkeeper for recommendations and whether she'd used the product herself would be reasonable, but here, I guess it would get me me-too'd right away? How do you actually reply if someone holds up something and asks, well, is this one any good?' I smiled weakly while feeling my cheeks getting rosier again, hoping I hadn't overstepped any bounds. I got a chuckle for my trouble. ‘Well, please try to keep the exciting images out of your mind, but to tell you the truth, we do test quite a lot of the stuff we sell.' She blushed a little, herself. ‘Well, we must buy them, of course, though at a steep discount.' She turned her gaze down as the sentence trailed off, giving me a chance to look her over without being too obvious about it as the images she'd been warning me about started to manifest themselves to my inner eye. I guessed she could be in her early thirties, a few years younger than me. Quite cute, slender, narrow hips, a loose-fitting, turquoise sweater doing its best to hide her ample bosom… I'd already undressed her in my mind, trying to imagine her testing the huge dildos in the glass display cabinet right behind her. Oh no, I hadn't been blushing earlier. Now; NOW I was blushing. She lifted her gaze again and giggled. ‘Let me guess. Exciting images?' I could hardly deny it, and she could hardly take affront, either. I turned my own gaze down, intensely studying my rather rumpled leather boots. There was no way in hell I'd be able to meet her stare while saying it. ‘Oh, guilty as charged.' I made a helpless gesture with my arm towards the toys on display ‘I imagined both this and that, I'll admit.' ‘Well, there's a reason we don't have fitting rooms, you know!' Her giggle turned to a quick laugh which she stifled as quickly. I felt my mood rise just by hearing it; it had a chirping quality, sounded almost like a bird's cry. In improving spirits; and, frankly, quite turned on; this young, cute woman had more or less told me that she test ran a lot of the toys in the store. Now my eyes wandered around the room, desperate not to meet her stare, while every time I saw something titillating I imagined her using it on herself. Not that there was anything extraordinary about a woman in her thirties enjoying herself, but the mere thought, as she was standing two feet away from me… Fuck. I was rock hard. I hoped it wasn't too obvious. Here goes nothing. Had I first said A, I might as well say B, too. I felt a bit braver, thinking we could spin a bit on this, while still keeping it innocent. She looked amused, too. ‘That's kind of unfair, though, isn't it? Any woman walking into this store can get, ah, expert advice, whereas I, as a man, will have to take your word for it ‘Oh, this one is good; I haven't tried it, but it is good, believe me!' She laughed. Loud. ‘I swear to all that's holy, had we ever had a male shop assistant here, he'd be loaded down with all the male solo toys we could muster and be told to test the hell out of them; and take notes while he was at it!' She turned serious. ‘Wouldn't do you much good, though; I'd be most surprised if there's even a single man in town who'd casually ask another if that sex toy of his was any good or not.' I'd have to give her that. Chitchatting about sex did come a lot easier when I did it with a woman. ‘Just that. There's a reason we're all women working here,' she smiled. ‘Women sell better to both men and women than, say, a fifty-something, balding, pudgy male in a soiled T-shirt and sweat pants.' She chuckled. ‘Beg your pardon for letting my prejudices shine through, by the way.' I laughed out loud again, realizing I was getting close to asking her what she did once she'd closed shop; she had, in a few minutes since I'd become aware she even existed, shown herself to be one of those all too rare people who could get me in a good mood simply by being there; and that she could quip about sex and seemingly be at ease was an added bonus. Plus, of course, she was incredibly cute. I caught the warm, brown eyes peering out under her unruly mop of reddish hair, trying to come up with a suitable response before the silence became awkward or she trotted on through the shop, ending our moment. She glanced down at her watch, and my heart sank like a stone; opportunity wasted, I thought; until I heard what she had to say. ‘Look… Now I want you to be real careful; not getting the wrong idea as to what I am suggesting, okay? You are not going to have sex with me, capisce?' Well, she had my full and undivided attention, even if I wouldn't get to sleep with her. I nodded, firmly. No fucking her. OK. ‘I'm about to close shop, now. If you, ahem, would like to test the fleshlight before you buy it, you can do so, okay? But, you're going to have to buy it afterwards, obviously. The lube is on the house.' I gawked at her. Wow. I nodded, numbly. This couldn't be, could it? But I wouldn't want to miss this for the world. I nodded again, vigorously. She smiled a quick smile, then went to the entrance to lock the doors, glancing over her shoulder at me as she did so, throwing me another smile. Returning, she grabbed a bottle of lube from a shelf, and motioned for me to follow her as she walked past. As if I needed any prodding. ‘It'd probably be best to use our office, rather than have you go at it here under the bright lights,' she suggested softly. I just shrugged. I'd follow her anywhere. My cock was rather a simpleton. As we exited a door with a 'staff only' sign at the back of the shop, we entered the kind of storeroom you'll find somewhere in any shop in the world; shelves stocked with all kinds of goods, except… Well, these goods were very much adult toys. Darting past a crate packed to the gunwales with inflatable dolls; inflated!, she giggled ‘Meet last year's Christmas decorations; we couldn't sell them, but neither could we bring ourselves to throw them away…' I shook my head, dumbfounded. She nodded towards a green door near the corner of the storeroom ‘That's where you'll get to find out if the fleshlight is any good…' She opened the door, hinges groaning. ‘I've been meaning to grease those for ages, wonder if I can use this lube?' she mused as we entered a small-ish, run-down office. Lots of papers were covering just about any horizontal surface; a desk with a computer and a phone on it and a small coffee table in front of a battered old sofa tucked into a corner; piles of merchandise along the far wall. Nodding towards the sofa, she suggested I take a seat before seating herself on the office chair by the desk. ‘I hope you don't mind me watching. After all, I have a certain, um, professional interest in seeing how you get along with it, you know.', throwing me another smile; a warm, seemingly genuine one. She didn't appear to be wholly untouched, herself. I fumbled with the packaging. What sadist had invented welded plastic? Probably a good thing when it came to protecting sex toys on display, but when you were about to unwrap it to try it out? Not so much. My audience reached for a pair of scissors and motioned for me to lob her the fleshlight. ‘You get out of your jeans, I'll get this out, OK?' she suggested. I nodded, still not trusting my voice to bear. I hardly needed any more encouragement. I tugged at my belt, seconds later dropping my jeans to the floor, stepping out of them. My briefs were unceremoniously shoved down my thighs, and as I rose again, my almost painfully erect cock pointed arrogantly at the ceiling, the shopkeeper raising her eyebrows a little and giggling softly as she took the sight in while cutting open the packaging separating me from instant bliss. With a satisfied ‘Hah! Finally!' she pulled the fleshlight from its by now shredded plastic cover and reached over to hand it to me. I shamelessly ogled her cleavage before reverting to holding her gaze. ‘As I said, this is good shit. You won't be able to destroy this one during normal use…' She proceeded to explain how important it was to clean it after use, stressing that they had both suitable toy cleaner and disinfectant in the store. ‘Most gentle for the silicone, that stuff; unlike the dish soap most people tend to use…' Her sentence trailed off, apparently she got struck by the same thing I had; that this was an absurd time to discuss maintenance. ‘My apologies, I got a bit carried away. Here.' Accepting the toy, I glanced over at the bottle of lube perched on the edge of her desk. Turning around, she reached the bottle and spun back to present it to me. ‘There you go, put lots in the fleshlight, some around the entrance and a little on your johnson, and you're good to go.' Nodding, I did as she had suggested; an ample spurt of lube into the pale, pink thingy, then a little around the sculpted pussy lips. Bah, in a way it would have been better if they hadn't tried so hard to make it look like the real thing. ‘Seeing as you wanted my observations, I think it would have been better if it was just an opening, not modeled to look like a real pussy; you know, no matter how good this may turn out to be, it can't possibly compare to the real thing…' ‘Doh,' she exclaimed as she rolled her eyes. ‘I should have mentioned that, there's a neutral version, too; and, believe it or not, a few which are supposedly modeled after famous porn stars' pussies, whether you believe it or not. Anyway, they probably all feel the same; just look at something, anything else while you're using it.' I'd be lying if I claimed I thought it would matter much what it looked like once it was wrapped around me. Squirting a wee bit of lube in the palm of my hand, I stroked myself a couple of times, ensuring I got some on the purplish, swollen head, too; unless I slipped in unhindered, I'd be sore afterwards, of that I was certain. Positioning the fleshlight against the glans, I looked over at the shopkeeper. She stared back, eagerly anticipating my next move; not that she'd have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what that would be. Gently pressing the fleshlight towards me, I slid into my first silicone pussy. It was just tight enough to feel natural-ish, I'd hand the designers that; but it felt rather cold and, well, dead. ‘What's it like?' she asked, voice quivering slightly. ‘Oh, not too bad,' I replied ‘Though it does feel a bit cold and. ah, dead, if I may say so at the moment, but that should improve shortly…' Giving it a couple of strokes, I could already feel it begin to warm up. She raised her stare from my fleshlight-wrapped member to meet mine. ‘Fuck me, I really am not doing my job properly, now; I just remembered that the manufacturer recommend that you put it in warm water for a few minutes before use, precisely to avoid that corpse bride-feeling. My apologies.' I nodded. ‘That'd probably do the trick, I'm sure. However…'; I let it slide back and forth a few times, feeling the soft silicone caress my oh-so-erect cock; ‘it does feel really good, don't get me wrong; and it keeps getting warmer by the second!' Having said that, I stroked myself in silence for a few moments, slowly, deliberately; pulling it off me until my cock emerged from it, exposing the swollen, lube-glistening head for my very attentive audience, then shoving myself into it again. Oh yes, it felt better and better. While no one would ever mistake it for the real thing; well, no one who had ever had the good fortune to have the real thing wrapped around oneself, anyway; it definitely felt good, much better than a simple handjob. ‘It keeps getting better,' I grunted. ‘Would work better still if one could take it out of the casing, though; you know, to adjust the pressure, using it as a sleeve over my cock; would feel more alive, then.' She nodded. ‘I'll keep that in mind, in case someone asks. I believe you can take it out for cleaning, by the way; so you could probably, um, go au-naturel on it, if that's your preference.'; before again staring at my cock sliding in and out of the toy, mesmerised. I felt like I was being on display; quite naturally, seeing as that was just what I was; but caught myself enjoying it. My audience was really cute and sexy as hell; well, truth be told, I'd probably find even Margaret Thatcher hot as fuck if she had stared at my masturbating with that sultry look my watcher now sent me; but I digress. I was turned on, way beyond what I would have been had I been doing the deed at home, alone. I coughed softly, then slowing the pace a bit as I caught her stare again. ‘Uh, I know there won't be any actual sex, that's not what I'm fishing for now, but… Would you mind, ah, could I… Well, have a little glimpse of your charms? Some bare skin? Just to help me over the edge?' I must have looked like a pleading puppy, as she burst into laughter, luckily a good-natured one. After first shaking her head, she apparently had second thoughts and nodded. I swallowed. This intensely erotic moment was about to become even hotter. Grabbing the hem of her sweater, she pulled it over her head and revealed a black, low-cut bra and ample cleavage. Lovely, pillowy, full breasts. My pace picked up. ‘Don't you think about touching me, don't even reach for me, OK?' she said, sternly. I nodded, hoping I looked like I'd be true to my word. God knows how reliable one looks when masturbating to the sight of the girl asking you to keep your hands off her. She apparently found my promise good enough, and, after reaching behind her back for a second, the bra fell into her lap and her breasts swung free. I swallowed again, almost in disbelief. They were really beautiful; round, full and pillowy, large, but not so large as to be saggy; they proudly stood form her chest, slightly pear-shaped, milky white and crowned by the largest, weakly drawn areolas I'd ever seen, pale pink, crested with nipples looking as if you'd be able to cut glass with them, so hard were they. She was amazing, and I wasted no time telling her so as my cock hardened further still inside the silicone wrapper I was now doing my best to fuck the daylights out of while keeping my eyes locked on the shopkeeper, occasionally falling to her wonderful breasts, but mostly maintaining eye contact. She leant back in her chair, her breasts gently parting. My turn to be mesmerised. I could already feel the familiar tingling telling me my strokes were numbered and my orgasm forthcoming; I'd be done for shortly. The fleshlight was now at body temperature, and felt much, much more lifelike, albeit still no match for a woman, I grunted through clenched teeth ‘no muscles milking me, no body thrust against mine, no hands feverishly stroking over my back, hugging me close as orgasm approaches; but it does feel pretty… pretty damned good!' Nodding absentmindedly, she stroked a hand over her right breast, cupping it, then pinching her nipple between her thumb and index finger, moaning softly. ‘I'm about to cum,' I grunted, snapping her back to reality. ‘Oh, please do it in that one, huh?', she nodded to an empty mug on the table between us. ‘I want to see you cum.' I nodded, feverishly working my cock with the latest addition to my meagre sex toy collection. ‘Lean forward, please', I snapped ‘I want to see those lovely tits swaying under you…' Laughingly, she obliged, leaning forward, then rocking side to side. ‘Like this, huh?' she teased, smiling warmly at me as the heavy globes swayed back and forth under her. Yes. Just like that. There was no use trying to hold back. Two more strokes, and I could feel my orgasm erupting, a tad before I'd expected it to. And here I was, figuring I had it under control… I jerked the fleshlight off my cock, throwing it on the floor, sending spurt after spurt of cum over the table, grasping for the mug, missing, shooting another spurt halfway across the room towards her; at least it felt like it; before finally grabbing the mug and shooting the last, feeble spurt into it. I felt my earlobes glow with embarrassment as I came in for landing after the massive orgasm, only to see the mess I'd made; cum streaks over invoices, a pack of cigarettes, the table itself, a lighter… My companion laughed, totally losing it in a fit of laughter, her breasts jiggling as she shook ‘You should've seen yourself!!!', she eventually gasped, regaining some control over herself. ‘It was the most absurd sight I've ever seen, so incredibly hot, you in the midst of such an orgasm, frantically trying to grab my old mug…' I joined her, a bit hesitantly at first. It had indeed been comedy hour. I hoped there wasn't a surveillance camera here, for if it did, I'd be bound to find myself on some amateur blooper reel shortly. ‘Never mind, though,' she giggled. ‘I'll get that cleaned up in no time. Without getting her sweater back on, she left the room. Seconds later I heard the tell-tale sound of water pouring from a faucet and paper being torn from a roll. She returned, hand full of tissue paper, and handed me some. ‘Here, clean yourself up; then I'll show you how to clean your latest conquest afterwards.' She leaned in over the table and cleaned up any trace of my little indiscretion. I really had to fight the urge to reach out and touch the lovely form right in front of my eyes; but managed. I'd promised, after all; and I'd had a wonderful experience, I wouldn't want to ruin it by doing anything which might scare or offend her in any way. I leaned back in the sofa while cleaning most of the lube off my semi-erect cock, softly caressing it as I stared hungrily at her, finishing up the table. I followed her to the cupboard next to the office; standing close to her; still dressed like Venus of Milo, only with arms; in the tiny room, I could feel the warmth of her body against mine as she fumbled the fleshlight open, taking out the silicone innards. ‘Just hold it under lukewarm water, first, to get rid of your cum and the lube, then wipe it clean with a little bit of the toy cleaner I'll give you when we're back in the shop and it'll be ready for its next outing.' She glanced up at me, noting my attention was on her, rather than on the most useful instructions she were supplying. ‘Better leave it outside its sheath overnight to allow it to dry properly,' she said. ‘Well, unless you find you prefer to use just the inner sleeve, of course.' Quick smile. With that, she handed the toy back to me. ‘Just head back out in the shop, you. I'll be with you in a minute, just need to get dressed.' I was treated to a smile too cute to be believed, and I was bright enough not to overstay my welcome by asking for just a few more glimpses of her. I threw a last, longing glance at her beautiful, curvy shape, met her gaze; a rather lustful one at that!; and smiled at her. ‘I'll do some window shopping, then, see if I find more playthings catching my fancy.' I then turned and briskly headed back into the shop, again passing the surreal pile of inflatable dolls, one still sporting a santa's cap. She sure took her time getting dressed; I imagined she'd figured she needed a release, too. Hell, yeah - when she appeared in the door from the storeroom, she was still basking in that wonderful post-orgasmic bliss you can spot from a mile away. ‘Getting a bit carried away, are we?' I quipped in a mock stern tone. ‘How professional is it really to masturbate in the rear while there's customers waiting in the shop, huh?' She smiled sheepishly. ‘Busted. Fuck, I was so horny while you did your thing I almost leapt at you!' I laughed. ‘Glad to hear you enjoyed yourself, too; and with any luck you now know a bit more about, ah; your inventory?' She giggles. ‘Sure do, I can't wait until the next time some sod comes by, cheekily suggesting I can't possibly know how this one feels…' She worked the till. ‘I'm giving you this at a discount,' she laughed. ‘It is the first time I've ever sold a used toy. The lube and cleaner is on the house, promise me you'll take good care of your new friend!' I promised, and took my chances embracing her briefly. ‘Mind if I come back for some more shopping sometime?' I asked, voice thick with lust. She looked at me, quizzically, then shrugged. ‘Well, I happen to have another couple of toys which I could use some user feedback on…' she suggested with a smile. ‘I'll be back in a couple of weeks,' I said by way of goodbye. Heading for the doors, I realised I'd be pounding the fleshlight again seconds after returning home. I was already hard again… By Norweger for Literotica

You probably grew up learning that compliance is a good thing. And you might assume you know when to break the rules — like if you're asked to do something unethical or immoral. However, research shows we often underestimate how likely we are to go with the flow or follow directions, even when those actions go against our values. Dr. Sunita Sah is an award-winning professor at Cornell University and an expert in organizational psychology. She has spent years studying the psychological impact of compliance and defiance. She's also the author of Defy: The Power of No in a World That Demands a Yes. Some of the things we discuss are: Examples of the consequences of being overly compliant How to redefine defiance for yourself How to cope with "insinuation anxiety" How to develop an action plan for defiance Why defiance is a skill and how it can be honed The societal benefits of defiance Subscribe to Mentally Stronger Premium — Get weekly bonus episodes, monthly bonus content, and cool gifts (like signed books)! Links & Resources SunitaSah.com Defy Follow Dr. Sunita Sah on Instagram - @drsunitasah Connect with the Show Buy Amy's books on mental strength Connect with Amy on Instagram — @AmyMorinAuthor Sponsors OneSkin — Get 15% off OneSkin with the code STRONGER at https://www.oneskin.co/ #oneskinpod Branch Basics — Right now, our listeners get 15% off their entire order by using code STRONGER at BranchBasics.com. Wildgrain — For a limited time, Wildgrain is offering our listeners $30 off the first box - PLUS free Croissants in every box - when you go to Wildgrain.com/STRONGER30 to start your subscription.  Calm — For listeners of our show, Calm is offering an exclusive offer of 40% off a Calm Premium Subscription at calm.com/STRONGER.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Chapter 1 What's Nodding Off by Alice Gregory"Nodding Off" by Alice Gregory is an insightful exploration of the psychology and neuroscience behind sleep and its impact on our daily lives. Throughout the work, Gregory delves into the various factors that contribute to sleep issues, such as modern lifestyle choices, mental health, and the biological mechanisms involved in sleep regulation. The author combines personal anecdotes with scientific research to paint a picture of sleep as not merely a biological necessity but as a complex phenomena tied to our emotional and psychological states. Gregory also discusses common sleep disorders and their societal implications, encouraging readers to understand the critical importance of adequate sleep for overall well-being. With a blend of wit and scholarly insight, "Nodding Off" serves as both an informative guide and a thoughtful reflection on how we can improve our relationship with sleep.Chapter 2 Nodding Off by Alice Gregory Summary"Nodding Off" by Alice Gregory is a thought-provoking exploration of sleep and its significance in human life. The essay delves into various facets of sleep, including its physiological aspects, cultural perceptions, and personal reflections on the experiences of falling asleep and waking up. Gregory employs a blend of scientific research and anecdotal evidence to illustrate how sleep affects our daily functioning, mental health, and even relationships.Throughout the piece, she examines the phenomenon of insomnia and the ever-growing societal anxiety surrounding sleep deprivation. Gregory also touches upon the concept of sleep as a form of escape or refuge from daily stressors, as well as the intricate rituals many people develop to cope with sleep disorders.The essay invites readers to reflect on their own sleep habits and the importance of prioritizing rest in an increasingly fast-paced world. Ultimately, Gregory's narrative emphasizes that understanding and improving our sleep can lead to enhanced well-being and productivity.Chapter 3 Nodding Off AuthorAlice Gregory is a writer and psychologist known for her insightful and engaging work in the field of sleep and its impact on human behavior. Her book, "Nodding Off: The Science of Sleep", was released on June 10, 2021. This book blends scientific research with personal anecdotes to explore the importance of sleep and how it affects various aspects of our lives.In addition to "Nodding Off," Alice Gregory has also contributed to other works and studies in the field of psychology and sleep research. Some of her notable publications include:"The Science of Sleep: A Comprehensive Guide" A deeper dive into the mechanics and importance of sleep."Sleep and its Discontents: A Psychological Study" An exploration of sleep disorders and their psychological impacts."Mind Over Sleep: Cognitive Behavioral Techniques to Conquer Insomnia" A practical guide for those struggling with sleep issues.As for the best edition, it largely depends on the reader's interest. "Nodding Off" is often regarded as one of her most approachable and well-rounded works, skillfully balancing academic research with relatable writing. Readers appreciate how it distills complex ideas into practical insights, making it accessible to a general audience. Overall, many readers and critics acclaim "Nodding Off" for its clarity and relevance in today's fast-paced world, making it a standout choice among Alice Gregory's publications.Chapter 4 Nodding Off Meaning & ThemeNodding Off Meaning"Nodding Off" by Alice Gregory is a poignant exploration of the complexities of sleep, dreams, and the subconscious mind. The poem delves into the intricacies of how easy it is to slip into unconsciousness, drawing a parallel between the act of nodding off and the emotional and psychological states that accompany it. Themes...

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

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

Driving Into the Driving Snow! By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The snow was falling so heavily that it had become almost hypnotic. Coupled with the rapid, monotonous beat of the windscreen wipers which were fighting a losing battle to maintain visibility, Emily was impressed she was managing to make any progress at all. Several miles previously, she'd been forced to leave the busy A road she normally traveled along when visiting her parents, due to a multi-car accident. From the number of blue flashing lights reflecting across the snowy surfaces at the scene, it had looked pretty serious, suggesting there was little chance of the route being cleared for several hours. Emily had therefore taken the bold yet questionable decision of driving along the little-used, untreated back roads, in an attempt to keep moving. Being relatively near to her final destination in the heart of West Sussex, and having grown up in the vicinity, it was a route she knew well. This was a blessing given that the thick, swirling snow was now settling with a vengeance. Under the white blanket, the exact positioning of the road surface became increasingly blurred, forcing a confused Emily to rely heavily upon local landmarks. Hedgerows and tunnels of trees, now devoid of their thick summer foliage, became invaluable to assist her slow progress, under such difficult circumstances as these. Crawling forwards, occasionally sliding on the slick surfaces, she passed a series of abandoned vehicles and felt her stomach roll with nervous apprehension. One of them looked suspiciously like a Ferrari and she felt a flash of pride that her own bog-standard car was managing to outperform the expensive hot hatch. Yet, with another seven miles still left to travel and the snow falling more heavily with every passing minute, much like the weather surrounding her, her chances of success were looking increasingly bleak. Gulping down fast, shallow breaths, she continued resolutely onwards, her cold, clammy hands providing a stark contrast to the hot, red flush radiating from her face and neck. It was physiological evidence, if any were seriously required, that driving in such poor weather conditions could be incredibly stressful. Edging her way onwards, Emily found her mind starting to wander towards her family and the festive celebrations they had planned over the next few days. Somehow, Christmas always made her feel lonelier than at any other time of year, despite having her nearest and dearest present. Her favorite Christmas song proclaimed it was hard to be alone at this time of year, and never had that sentiment been truer. The knowledge that everybody would be coupled up in their happy pairings; her parents, her brother John with his wife, her sister Jane and husband Dan. Even the dog and cat were known to annually suspend hostilities and naturally migrate together beside the open fire, although theirs was always destined to be a rocky partnership. Emily stood out as the only singleton in a mass of happy couples. And it was so not cool for a woman in her mid-thirties to be jealous of the cat. Her melancholy wasn't helped by memories of what had taken place exactly three years ago, to the day. Her long-term boyfriend, in his great wisdom, had chosen Christmas Eve as the most appropriate time to make his big announcement. He no longer loved her and hadn't done for some time, apparently. And that, as they say, was that. For the days and nights that had followed, Emily had played the song, ‘A Winter's Tale', almost obsessively on repeat. It seemed to so completely describe the wretched situation she found herself in. His thoughtless actions had even managed to tinge her favorite Christmas song with a dash of unbearable sadness, and that was unforgiveable. A heartbroken Emily subsequently discovered that, with indecent haste, he had become engaged to an ex-girlfriend. Before anyone could say “shotgun wedding”, they were married and excitedly preparing to welcome their first child into the world. Although each new snippet of information hurt slightly less than the last, the news had still subjected her to actual physical pain, further hampering the recovery of her injured heart. Despite it being a cliché though, time really was proving to be a great healer. Indeed, deep down, Emily could now accept that they would never have been compatible in the long term. Even while they were still together, she'd always experienced a nagging doubt, even though her brain worked strenuously to suppress it at the time. Looking back, she remembered wondering whether it was really her that he wanted, or did he just want someone. Certainly, the speed at which he could drop one girlfriend and obtain a replacement, suggested the latter scenario, and only added weight to her theory. These days, she no longer wanted him back. Indeed, with distance, she'd come to recognise that he had been insensitive and emotionally weak. But although his spell over her was broken, the curse he'd cast over Christmas remained firmly in place. Making her way carefully around another abandoned car, Emily fought off the melancholy she always felt when her unwelcome ex appeared in her thoughts. In the past year, she had put a limited amount of effort into meeting someone new, in the hope of finding love again. But was she really cut out for a life of dating apps? Swiping left or right and being asked a barrage of personal, often intimate questions, whilst trying to fend off dick pics and unsolicited instant messages, were so not her idea of a good time. Wasn't there just somebody kind, sexy and decent out there? Negotiating around a sharp corner, her skin crawled in memory of a recent date she'd had with a guy, following a brief conversation online. It had quickly become apparent from the outset that theirs would never be a harmonious coupling. Emily was searching for romance, connection, belonging and, dare she even admit it these days, love. It swiftly became blatantly clear that he was looking for a one off, no strings attached, fuck fest. Needless to say, that night he'd gone home disappointed. Despite being fed up with her single status, Emily struggled to believe that advertising yourself on the internet like some second-hand car was the way forward. She'd recently shared her thoughts with her sister who, in her infinite wisdom, had tried to console her. 'You'll know when you find the one,' her sister had advised, gushing with positivity. 'And it will happen, I promise.' Easy for her to spew out such platitudes, Emily had noted at the time. With a glorious husband, two apparently perfect children and a Labrador in tow, she was the epitome of contentment. Besides, Emily wasn't willing to just settle into another relationship now. Next time, she wanted something extraordinary, or nothing at all. She'd reached a time in her life where she wasn't willing to mess about any longer. 'Oh fuck!' she cried out, as her car suddenly started to slide out of control. Emily quickly discovered that cruising sideways down a steep incline provided a very effective distraction from chronic wistfulness. Never able to remember whether you should turn your wheels into a skid, or out of it, she tried both options with minimal consequence, whilst her foot pressed down hard on the brake pedal. Trapped in a metal box, skidding towards a very solid-looking, highly inconveniently placed line of trees, Emily squealed. Her eyes automatically snapped shut, preparing for the inevitable impact and subsequent pain. She'd heard of people's lives flashing before their eyes, upon finding themselves in a near-death experience. Of course she had. What she hadn't banked on was for her mind to take it upon itself to come up with such a random, eclectic and downright weird selection of memories. The images started off sensibly enough; her parents with their arms wrapped around each other, laughing. The epitome of the loving relationship which Emily herself secretly strived to achieve. The movie reel quickly cut to a goldfish which she had won as an eight-year old at the local fair, repetitively circling in its plastic bag. Next, a disco she'd attended, where her older sister had kissed a boy she'd had a secret crush on as a teen. Finally, she was doing her university finals, watching the dust float languidly in the hot, sunlit air above her small, wooden desk. Silently, she observed the names of students, stretching back over previous decades, deeply carved into the grainy surface. And then, nothing but darkness. 'That's it?' thought Emily, feeling ridiculously short-changed, just before her car came to an ultimate and untimely stop. That bizarre and outrageously uninspiring set of memories was the best her brain could come up with, when faced with the threat of potential death? Seconds later, accompanied by an explosive bang that ricocheted painfully through her skull, her car became intimately acquainted with an Oak tree as the engine cut out. For a few silent seconds, she remained hunched over, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, both unable and unwilling to open her eyes. Every muscle in her body was tightly constricted, while her pulse beat off the charts. As she clenched and relaxed each of her limbs individually in turn, Emily was relieved not to feel any immediate injury. Perhaps, she considered, the memories your brain selects are dependent upon the severity of the situation in which you find yourself? One thing was for sure, though. She needed to get out more and give her brain some higher quality fodder, should the worst ever happen again. Life was short; she seriously needed to start living it. With that thought at the forefront of her mind, Emily found the necessary courage to open her eyes. 'Shit,' she groaned, taking in the alarming sight before her. A brief glance down confirmed no obvious injuries to her own body, but her car hadn't been so lucky. Rough, snow-covered bark belonging to the aforementioned Oak tree, loomed large in the driver's side window, just inches from her face. Meanwhile, the crumpled car bonnet and cracked windscreen bore evidence of the brunt of the impact. Emily gazed forwards into the middle distance, observing the isolation and complete lack of nearby houses. She couldn't help but wonder what on earth she should do next. Unexpectedly, a movement in the side mirror attracted her attention. Before she knew what was happening, the passenger-side door was wrenched open and a large, masked man leapt into the seat beside her, accompanied by a frigid blast of arctic air and an eruption of snowflakes. 'Don't move!' he demanded, closing the door behind himself. Emily tried to scream, but an absence of sound escaped from her throat. Instead, just a weak 'ree' glided pathetically through the air, at a pitch not dissimilar to that of a whistling kettle. With an effort that abysmal, realised Emily, the only creatures whose attention she was likely to attract were bats, or perhaps a Blue Whale, under very different environmental circumstances. In terror, she slowly turned to face him. He was dressed entirely in black, with the exception of a thin layer of snow which had collected across his broad shoulders. A hood was secured tightly around his head whilst a scarf covered most of his face. As a result, only the darkest pair of eyes that Emily had ever seen, remained on display. 'My money's in the glove compartment,' she squeaked, nodding almost imperceptibly towards his knees. 'That's good to know, I guess,' he replied, and despite her distress, Emily identified a hint of amusement in his tone. Oh God, was she dealing with a complete psychopath? 'But right now,' he continued. 'I'm concerned you might have whiplash, so don't move.' 'You're, you're here to help me?' she stumbled. 'Not to steal from me?' 'Steal from you?' he chuckled. 'Who do you think I am? Dick Turpin? The most infamous of all the highwaymen, ' Emily felt very foolish. 'Well, I'm pretty confident I don't have whiplash, thank you,' she replied, her good manners and upbringing forcing her to be polite to this stranger, who had appeared uninvited in her car, scared her half to death and now seemed to be laughing at her. 'I might be at risk of an early onset heart attack though,' she added pointedly. 'I'm sorry,' he murmured. 'But you ought to be congratulated. That was one hell of an impressive slide!' 'Yeah, right up to the moment of impact,' she agreed dryly. 'I didn't see you.' 'Well, when you passed me, you did have your eyes closed,' he said teasingly. 'Plus, I took cover when I saw what was happening. You can let go of the steering wheel now, by the way.' Emily looked down to find her hands were still clamped tightly around it. Concentrating hard, she carefully released each of her fingers from their fraught grip before stretching her quivering hands out flat and placing them purposefully into her lap. 'My poor car,' she sighed, gently shaking her head. 'Ultimately, it's only a car,' the man pointed out. 'You're okay. That's what matters.' 'I guess,' she agreed, breathing out a long, shaky sigh. 'Do you need to telephone anyone?' he asked kindly, recognising her clearly delicate emotional state. 'Maybe I should,' Emily agreed, grappling in her coat pocket for her mobile phone. After hitting a few buttons, she dropped the device onto the dashboard. 'No signal?' he asked. 'No battery,' she replied slightly sheepishly. 'I'm not the world's most prepared traveller, even when extreme weather warnings have been issued for days in advance.' 'Here,' he said softly. Unzipping one of his coat pockets, he pulled out an iPhone, unlocked it and handed it across. 'Feel free to use mine.' Emily gazed down at the phone, surprised to be confronted with the screensaver image of a pirate, the man who was sitting next to her, she imagined, but it was impossible to tell. He wore the requisite eye patch, bandana, huge fake bushy beard and a lopsided toy parrot perched on his shoulder. Climbing all over him, while grinning inanely, were two young children. 'You?' she smiled. 'For my sins,' he nodded. 'Thanks, but I won't,' Emily grimaced, handing the device back to its owner. 'Not until I'm safe. I wouldn't want my family to worry, or worse still, try and drive out in this crazy weather to rescue me.' 'You're safe right now,' he said meaningfully. Something in his tone made Emily look up at him properly for the first time and in that brief moment, their eyes locked. With her stomach suddenly shifting into free-fall, she inhaled sharply, immediately retracting her gaze as though she'd been electrocuted. 'You could call for a rescue service but I've already tried that for my car,' he explained. 'Unsurprisingly, they're inundated and prioritising emergencies, which thankfully we are not.' 'Your car broke down too?' queried Emily. 'Yeah,' he admitted with a nod, and this time Emily was confident of hearing amusement in his deep voice. 'Though in a far less spectacular fashion than yourself. In comparison to you, I would describe myself as an amateur, at best.' 'Where were you heading?' she smiled. 'Barlavington estate. Family Christmas, you know?' Emily sighed inwardly with pleasure. He had such a lovely strong voice, full of expression and tone; like a comforting tune that she'd once known, but long forgotten. He sounded reassuringly familiar. It was a shame she could make out so little of the rest of him, dressed up for blizzard conditions as he was. The only thing she knew for sure was that he was certainly tall. His build was much more difficult to decipher, given all the layers of clothing he was wearing. And unless he started unwrapping the various scarves from around his face, she had no idea what he looked like either. 'You?' he prompted, breaking her daydream. 'Me? Oh, um, I'm heading to Sutton for the same reason,' she replied. 'So just the next village along from you. I normally stick to the main road, but there was an accident.' 'Yeah, me too,' he explained. 'I thought I'd take my chances with the back roads.' 'And how's that working out for you?' grinned Emily, starting to see the humour in their situation. 'Surprisingly well,' he admitted. Unsure exactly what he meant by that, Emily found herself temporarily silenced. 'Well,' he continued. 'As much as I'm enjoying myself, we can't stay here chatting much longer. It'll be dark shortly and my aunt's house is still a couple of miles away on foot. But at least it's somewhere warm to spend the night, before trying to finish the journey tomorrow.' 'Sounds like you're all sorted,' said Emily, feeling deflated. She had no idea what her next step should be. 'Thank you very much for checking I was okay. It was nice to meet you.' 'So you don't want to join me then?' he asked in a teasing tone. 'You're not up for a short hike?' 'Join you? Wouldn't your aunt mind?' she replied, her pulse ramping up a notch, accompanied by more than a frisson of excitement. 'No, the more the merrier, as far as she's always concerned,' he explained. 'Have you got any outdoor gear?' 'Yes, in the back of the car.' He clearly didn't consider her current clothing was appropriate for bleak midwinter and, begrudgingly, she knew he was right. Unfastening her seatbelt with still shaking fingers, she gasped as he placed one of his gloved hands on hers. 'No, you stay there,' he instructed. 'I'm already dressed for this crazy weather.' A freezing blast of air entered the car as he darted back outside. As the door closed once more, all that remained of his presence was a faint whiff of delicious smelling aftershave and a melted puddle of snow on the floor. Emily chanced a quick glance at herself in the rear view mirror and instantly regretted doing so; she wasn't looking her best. Although her bright blue eyes sparkled, they were surrounded by an unsurprisingly flushed and blotchy face. Briefly, Emily ran her fingers through her long blonde hair before giving it up as a bad job; she was clearly fighting a losing battle. Moments later, her white knight re-appeared, accompanied by walking boots and an assortment of thick, waterproof coats, hats, scarves and gloves. 'Hey! What are you talking about?' he exclaimed, dumping the collection unceremoniously on his vacant seat. 'You're a highly prepared traveller. You've got clothing for every possible seasonal eventuality back there!' 'It's very kind of you to assume I'm organised,' explained Emily, feeling a little foolish. 'But it's actually just extreme laziness; I basically use my car to store all of my outdoor clothes.' 'Right,' he chuckled. 'Well, I'll leave you to get changed. Oh, do you have an overnight bag, by the way? I couldn't see one.' Emily nodded towards a small rucksack on the back seat. Having kicked off her flat shoes, she was struggling to pull a walking boot on; not an easy task in the presence of a steering wheel. 'Seriously?' he exclaimed. 'That's it?' 'Yeah, that's it,' she confirmed. 'I dropped all my family's gifts off the other week, so I just needed a couple of changes of clothes and some toiletries.' 'Wow, well, I'll stick your bag into my rucksack to save you carrying it, if you like?' 'Thank you, that's really kind.' 'No problem,' he replied, grabbing her bag before doffing an imaginary cap. 'Oh, and don't forget your purse is in the glove compartment, seeing as I never claimed it for my own,' he laughed, closing the door once more. Emily spent the next couple of minutes fighting her way into her outdoor clothing, whilst occasionally glancing through the window to keep track of her masked companion. Unable to open the driver's door, due to the up close and personal presence of an Oak tree, she struggled across the centre console and exited via the passenger side. Immediately, a blast of biting wind cut around her exposed face, thanks to the snow being blown almost diagonally across the white landscape. A shudder of goosebumps passed across her shoulders and she hoped they wouldn't have to be out in such unforgiving conditions for too long. Stowing his phone in a side pocket, the man moved swiftly across to Emily and closed the door behind her. He then held out his hand in an unexpectedly formal way. 'Sam Whitehall,' he announced through the layers of scarf which still covered his face. 'Emily Jones,' she replied, grasping his gloved hand with a grin whilst trying to prevent her teeth from chattering. Now she could see why he was so well wrapped up and quickly pulled her own scarf tightly around her head. It was beyond cold. 'Lovely to meet you, Emily,' he replied. 'Sorry not to have encountered you in more salubrious circumstances. Shall we get going?' 'Are you sure about this? You don't even know me.' 'I know enough,' he confirmed. 'More to the point, you don't know me. I could be a mad axe murderer.' 'Where are your axes then,' laughed Emily, turning to lock the door of her car, surprised when the central locking system still worked, despite the damage. 'Damn,' he chuckled, lifting his rucksack onto his back in preparation. 'I must have left them at home.' 'If axe murdering is your profession, then you're clearly not very good at it,' she concluded. 'So I'll take my chances.' 'It doesn't pay to be too confident,' he teased and Emily could see laughter lines crinkling at the edges of his eyes. 'After you,' he added, holding out his arm in the direction they needed to travel. 'Uh oh. That's exactly what an axe murderer would say,' observed Emily dryly. She was rewarded by hearing his deep, infectious laugh. They started to trudge forward through the treacherous weather. A satisfying crunch accompanied each step underfoot as the snow continued to swirl around them making visibility increasingly difficult. To make matters worse, Emily found it was also difficult to hear very well. Her ears were encompassed under numerous woollen layers, from her attempts to block out the cold and the constant wind didn't help much either. 'Are you absolutely sure your aunt won't mind me turning up too?' she asked in a raised voice. 'Positive,' he bellowed back. 'I texted ahead. It's all fine. She's preparing the sleeping arrangements as we speak.' 'I'm impressed,' she replied. 'Your aunt must be pretty technologically savvy compared to my mum!' That was an understatement. Although her parents shared a Smartphone, the bulk of its functionality remained a mystery to them. Suggesting they log onto the Facebook app would receive an identical response to asking them to reprogramme the Hubble Space Telescope. As a result, the chances of them being aware of an incoming text, let alone replying to it, were exceptionally slim indeed. And that assumed that their phone was switched on in the first place, which it very rarely was. An inability to charge electrical devices was obviously a family failing, inherited through the generations. 'My aunt has always been a very social being,' Sam explained, over the wind and weather. 'And as the modern world enhances her potential to be even more social, she made a conscious decision to embrace technology.' 'And will there be enough room in her house for me?' queried Emily. 'Definitely,' he replied, apparently amused. 'Does she live alone?' 'She's no longer married,' he explained. 'But she's got a housekeeper so fortunately she's rarely alone. She's a real people person. Seems to spend half of her time throwing parties and the other half planning them. Christmas Eve is always the biggest though, so you've chosen exceptionally well. Good job!' 'She's having a party? Tonight? Oh, I couldn't possibly impose on her then. It wouldn't be fair.' 'Nonsense,' chuckled Sam. 'She's already told me in no uncertain terms that she can't wait to meet you. She'll be delighted. And I was attending anyway, although my family won't be able to make it now because of this weather. Perhaps you can be my plus one?' he suggested, swinging around to face her, whilst continuing to walk backwards. 'Okay,' agreed Emily as the look in his eyes caused her stomach to unexpectedly jolt. After that, they progressed for some time in silence, heads bowed down against the driving wind, with gloved hands thrust deep inside their pockets. As they entered a neighbouring village, Sam led them towards the cricket pavilion. In the summer, this was a quintessential English village, with a shop, pub, duck pond, children's play area and cricket pitch. Right now though, it was a barren, white wasteland; any objects daring to rise out of the ground had been blasted with a vertical plastering of sticky snow. Emily observed how the snow was always driven up the same exterior-facing surface, allowing her to identify the predominant wind direction, northerly, she assumed, given the glacial temperatures. Under the protection of the cricket pavilion porch, Sam shrugged off his rucksack, pulled out a bottle of water and handed it across to Emily. She accepted it gratefully, gulping down the liquid, surprised at how thirsty she'd become. 'How are you doing?' he asked kindly. 'Cold but otherwise surprisingly well,' she replied brightly, returning the bottle with thanks. Sam pulled the scarf slightly away from his mouth, revealing a tantalising glimpse of what lay beneath. As he drained the remainder of Emily's bottle of water, she caught sight of his straight, white teeth, dark stubbled face and full, soft lips. Despite the plummeting temperatures, she felt a streak of extreme warmth pass straight through her body. Averting her eyes, to prevent her expression being read, a blushing Emily concentrated hard on her walking boots whilst scrunching up her numb toes within. 'Here,' he said, forcing Emily to look back up again, as he snapped a chocolate bar in two and passed half across to her. As they were both wearing thick, bulky gloves, the transfer of such a small item proved awkward to achieve but, with some chuckling at their incredible incompetence, they eventually succeeded. 'I promise that we'll soon have you somewhere safe and warm. There's nothing at all for you to worry about.' Nodding with gratitude, Emily placed a square of the chocolate covered caramel into her mouth. As the ice cold morsel began to melt luxuriously across her tongue, she couldn't remember ever tasting anything so sublime. 'Um,' she murmured, eyes closed in bliss. 'Thank you. That is so good.' 'You're more than welcome,' he replied, his mouth twitching into a brief smile. 'Are you happy to take a short-cut through the forest? It should reduce our journey time by about twenty minutes.' 'Of course,' grinned Emily, stamping her feet to maintain circulation. 'I trust you.' 'And therein lies your first mistake,' he jokingly replied. To be continued in Part 2 By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

Driving Into the Driving Snow! By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The snow was falling so heavily that it had become almost hypnotic. Coupled with the rapid, monotonous beat of the windscreen wipers which were fighting a losing battle to maintain visibility, Emily was impressed she was managing to make any progress at all. Several miles previously, she'd been forced to leave the busy A road she normally traveled along when visiting her parents, due to a multi-car accident. From the number of blue flashing lights reflecting across the snowy surfaces at the scene, it had looked pretty serious, suggesting there was little chance of the route being cleared for several hours. Emily had therefore taken the bold yet questionable decision of driving along the little-used, untreated back roads, in an attempt to keep moving. Being relatively near to her final destination in the heart of West Sussex, and having grown up in the vicinity, it was a route she knew well. This was a blessing given that the thick, swirling snow was now settling with a vengeance. Under the white blanket, the exact positioning of the road surface became increasingly blurred, forcing a confused Emily to rely heavily upon local landmarks. Hedgerows and tunnels of trees, now devoid of their thick summer foliage, became invaluable to assist her slow progress, under such difficult circumstances as these. Crawling forwards, occasionally sliding on the slick surfaces, she passed a series of abandoned vehicles and felt her stomach roll with nervous apprehension. One of them looked suspiciously like a Ferrari and she felt a flash of pride that her own bog-standard car was managing to outperform the expensive hot hatch. Yet, with another seven miles still left to travel and the snow falling more heavily with every passing minute, much like the weather surrounding her, her chances of success were looking increasingly bleak. Gulping down fast, shallow breaths, she continued resolutely onwards, her cold, clammy hands providing a stark contrast to the hot, red flush radiating from her face and neck. It was physiological evidence, if any were seriously required, that driving in such poor weather conditions could be incredibly stressful. Edging her way onwards, Emily found her mind starting to wander towards her family and the festive celebrations they had planned over the next few days. Somehow, Christmas always made her feel lonelier than at any other time of year, despite having her nearest and dearest present. Her favorite Christmas song proclaimed it was hard to be alone at this time of year, and never had that sentiment been truer. The knowledge that everybody would be coupled up in their happy pairings; her parents, her brother John with his wife, her sister Jane and husband Dan. Even the dog and cat were known to annually suspend hostilities and naturally migrate together beside the open fire, although theirs was always destined to be a rocky partnership. Emily stood out as the only singleton in a mass of happy couples. And it was so not cool for a woman in her mid-thirties to be jealous of the cat. Her melancholy wasn't helped by memories of what had taken place exactly three years ago, to the day. Her long-term boyfriend, in his great wisdom, had chosen Christmas Eve as the most appropriate time to make his big announcement. He no longer loved her and hadn't done for some time, apparently. And that, as they say, was that. For the days and nights that had followed, Emily had played the song, ‘A Winter's Tale', almost obsessively on repeat. It seemed to so completely describe the wretched situation she found herself in. His thoughtless actions had even managed to tinge her favorite Christmas song with a dash of unbearable sadness, and that was unforgiveable. A heartbroken Emily subsequently discovered that, with indecent haste, he had become engaged to an ex-girlfriend. Before anyone could say “shotgun wedding”, they were married and excitedly preparing to welcome their first child into the world. Although each new snippet of information hurt slightly less than the last, the news had still subjected her to actual physical pain, further hampering the recovery of her injured heart. Despite it being a cliché though, time really was proving to be a great healer. Indeed, deep down, Emily could now accept that they would never have been compatible in the long term. Even while they were still together, she'd always experienced a nagging doubt, even though her brain worked strenuously to suppress it at the time. Looking back, she remembered wondering whether it was really her that he wanted, or did he just want someone. Certainly, the speed at which he could drop one girlfriend and obtain a replacement, suggested the latter scenario, and only added weight to her theory. These days, she no longer wanted him back. Indeed, with distance, she'd come to recognise that he had been insensitive and emotionally weak. But although his spell over her was broken, the curse he'd cast over Christmas remained firmly in place. Making her way carefully around another abandoned car, Emily fought off the melancholy she always felt when her unwelcome ex appeared in her thoughts. In the past year, she had put a limited amount of effort into meeting someone new, in the hope of finding love again. But was she really cut out for a life of dating apps? Swiping left or right and being asked a barrage of personal, often intimate questions, whilst trying to fend off dick pics and unsolicited instant messages, were so not her idea of a good time. Wasn't there just somebody kind, sexy and decent out there? Negotiating around a sharp corner, her skin crawled in memory of a recent date she'd had with a guy, following a brief conversation online. It had quickly become apparent from the outset that theirs would never be a harmonious coupling. Emily was searching for romance, connection, belonging and, dare she even admit it these days, love. It swiftly became blatantly clear that he was looking for a one off, no strings attached, fuck fest. Needless to say, that night he'd gone home disappointed. Despite being fed up with her single status, Emily struggled to believe that advertising yourself on the internet like some second-hand car was the way forward. She'd recently shared her thoughts with her sister who, in her infinite wisdom, had tried to console her. 'You'll know when you find the one,' her sister had advised, gushing with positivity. 'And it will happen, I promise.' Easy for her to spew out such platitudes, Emily had noted at the time. With a glorious husband, two apparently perfect children and a Labrador in tow, she was the epitome of contentment. Besides, Emily wasn't willing to just settle into another relationship now. Next time, she wanted something extraordinary, or nothing at all. She'd reached a time in her life where she wasn't willing to mess about any longer. 'Oh fuck!' she cried out, as her car suddenly started to slide out of control. Emily quickly discovered that cruising sideways down a steep incline provided a very effective distraction from chronic wistfulness. Never able to remember whether you should turn your wheels into a skid, or out of it, she tried both options with minimal consequence, whilst her foot pressed down hard on the brake pedal. Trapped in a metal box, skidding towards a very solid-looking, highly inconveniently placed line of trees, Emily squealed. Her eyes automatically snapped shut, preparing for the inevitable impact and subsequent pain. She'd heard of people's lives flashing before their eyes, upon finding themselves in a near-death experience. Of course she had. What she hadn't banked on was for her mind to take it upon itself to come up with such a random, eclectic and downright weird selection of memories. The images started off sensibly enough; her parents with their arms wrapped around each other, laughing. The epitome of the loving relationship which Emily herself secretly strived to achieve. The movie reel quickly cut to a goldfish which she had won as an eight-year old at the local fair, repetitively circling in its plastic bag. Next, a disco she'd attended, where her older sister had kissed a boy she'd had a secret crush on as a teen. Finally, she was doing her university finals, watching the dust float languidly in the hot, sunlit air above her small, wooden desk. Silently, she observed the names of students, stretching back over previous decades, deeply carved into the grainy surface. And then, nothing but darkness. 'That's it?' thought Emily, feeling ridiculously short-changed, just before her car came to an ultimate and untimely stop. That bizarre and outrageously uninspiring set of memories was the best her brain could come up with, when faced with the threat of potential death? Seconds later, accompanied by an explosive bang that ricocheted painfully through her skull, her car became intimately acquainted with an Oak tree as the engine cut out. For a few silent seconds, she remained hunched over, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, both unable and unwilling to open her eyes. Every muscle in her body was tightly constricted, while her pulse beat off the charts. As she clenched and relaxed each of her limbs individually in turn, Emily was relieved not to feel any immediate injury. Perhaps, she considered, the memories your brain selects are dependent upon the severity of the situation in which you find yourself? One thing was for sure, though. She needed to get out more and give her brain some higher quality fodder, should the worst ever happen again. Life was short; she seriously needed to start living it. With that thought at the forefront of her mind, Emily found the necessary courage to open her eyes. 'Shit,' she groaned, taking in the alarming sight before her. A brief glance down confirmed no obvious injuries to her own body, but her car hadn't been so lucky. Rough, snow-covered bark belonging to the aforementioned Oak tree, loomed large in the driver's side window, just inches from her face. Meanwhile, the crumpled car bonnet and cracked windscreen bore evidence of the brunt of the impact. Emily gazed forwards into the middle distance, observing the isolation and complete lack of nearby houses. She couldn't help but wonder what on earth she should do next. Unexpectedly, a movement in the side mirror attracted her attention. Before she knew what was happening, the passenger-side door was wrenched open and a large, masked man leapt into the seat beside her, accompanied by a frigid blast of arctic air and an eruption of snowflakes. 'Don't move!' he demanded, closing the door behind himself. Emily tried to scream, but an absence of sound escaped from her throat. Instead, just a weak 'ree' glided pathetically through the air, at a pitch not dissimilar to that of a whistling kettle. With an effort that abysmal, realised Emily, the only creatures whose attention she was likely to attract were bats, or perhaps a Blue Whale, under very different environmental circumstances. In terror, she slowly turned to face him. He was dressed entirely in black, with the exception of a thin layer of snow which had collected across his broad shoulders. A hood was secured tightly around his head whilst a scarf covered most of his face. As a result, only the darkest pair of eyes that Emily had ever seen, remained on display. 'My money's in the glove compartment,' she squeaked, nodding almost imperceptibly towards his knees. 'That's good to know, I guess,' he replied, and despite her distress, Emily identified a hint of amusement in his tone. Oh God, was she dealing with a complete psychopath? 'But right now,' he continued. 'I'm concerned you might have whiplash, so don't move.' 'You're, you're here to help me?' she stumbled. 'Not to steal from me?' 'Steal from you?' he chuckled. 'Who do you think I am? Dick Turpin? The most infamous of all the highwaymen, ' Emily felt very foolish. 'Well, I'm pretty confident I don't have whiplash, thank you,' she replied, her good manners and upbringing forcing her to be polite to this stranger, who had appeared uninvited in her car, scared her half to death and now seemed to be laughing at her. 'I might be at risk of an early onset heart attack though,' she added pointedly. 'I'm sorry,' he murmured. 'But you ought to be congratulated. That was one hell of an impressive slide!' 'Yeah, right up to the moment of impact,' she agreed dryly. 'I didn't see you.' 'Well, when you passed me, you did have your eyes closed,' he said teasingly. 'Plus, I took cover when I saw what was happening. You can let go of the steering wheel now, by the way.' Emily looked down to find her hands were still clamped tightly around it. Concentrating hard, she carefully released each of her fingers from their fraught grip before stretching her quivering hands out flat and placing them purposefully into her lap. 'My poor car,' she sighed, gently shaking her head. 'Ultimately, it's only a car,' the man pointed out. 'You're okay. That's what matters.' 'I guess,' she agreed, breathing out a long, shaky sigh. 'Do you need to telephone anyone?' he asked kindly, recognising her clearly delicate emotional state. 'Maybe I should,' Emily agreed, grappling in her coat pocket for her mobile phone. After hitting a few buttons, she dropped the device onto the dashboard. 'No signal?' he asked. 'No battery,' she replied slightly sheepishly. 'I'm not the world's most prepared traveller, even when extreme weather warnings have been issued for days in advance.' 'Here,' he said softly. Unzipping one of his coat pockets, he pulled out an iPhone, unlocked it and handed it across. 'Feel free to use mine.' Emily gazed down at the phone, surprised to be confronted with the screensaver image of a pirate, the man who was sitting next to her, she imagined, but it was impossible to tell. He wore the requisite eye patch, bandana, huge fake bushy beard and a lopsided toy parrot perched on his shoulder. Climbing all over him, while grinning inanely, were two young children. 'You?' she smiled. 'For my sins,' he nodded. 'Thanks, but I won't,' Emily grimaced, handing the device back to its owner. 'Not until I'm safe. I wouldn't want my family to worry, or worse still, try and drive out in this crazy weather to rescue me.' 'You're safe right now,' he said meaningfully. Something in his tone made Emily look up at him properly for the first time and in that brief moment, their eyes locked. With her stomach suddenly shifting into free-fall, she inhaled sharply, immediately retracting her gaze as though she'd been electrocuted. 'You could call for a rescue service but I've already tried that for my car,' he explained. 'Unsurprisingly, they're inundated and prioritising emergencies, which thankfully we are not.' 'Your car broke down too?' queried Emily. 'Yeah,' he admitted with a nod, and this time Emily was confident of hearing amusement in his deep voice. 'Though in a far less spectacular fashion than yourself. In comparison to you, I would describe myself as an amateur, at best.' 'Where were you heading?' she smiled. 'Barlavington estate. Family Christmas, you know?' Emily sighed inwardly with pleasure. He had such a lovely strong voice, full of expression and tone; like a comforting tune that she'd once known, but long forgotten. He sounded reassuringly familiar. It was a shame she could make out so little of the rest of him, dressed up for blizzard conditions as he was. The only thing she knew for sure was that he was certainly tall. His build was much more difficult to decipher, given all the layers of clothing he was wearing. And unless he started unwrapping the various scarves from around his face, she had no idea what he looked like either. 'You?' he prompted, breaking her daydream. 'Me? Oh, um, I'm heading to Sutton for the same reason,' she replied. 'So just the next village along from you. I normally stick to the main road, but there was an accident.' 'Yeah, me too,' he explained. 'I thought I'd take my chances with the back roads.' 'And how's that working out for you?' grinned Emily, starting to see the humour in their situation. 'Surprisingly well,' he admitted. Unsure exactly what he meant by that, Emily found herself temporarily silenced. 'Well,' he continued. 'As much as I'm enjoying myself, we can't stay here chatting much longer. It'll be dark shortly and my aunt's house is still a couple of miles away on foot. But at least it's somewhere warm to spend the night, before trying to finish the journey tomorrow.' 'Sounds like you're all sorted,' said Emily, feeling deflated. She had no idea what her next step should be. 'Thank you very much for checking I was okay. It was nice to meet you.' 'So you don't want to join me then?' he asked in a teasing tone. 'You're not up for a short hike?' 'Join you? Wouldn't your aunt mind?' she replied, her pulse ramping up a notch, accompanied by more than a frisson of excitement. 'No, the more the merrier, as far as she's always concerned,' he explained. 'Have you got any outdoor gear?' 'Yes, in the back of the car.' He clearly didn't consider her current clothing was appropriate for bleak midwinter and, begrudgingly, she knew he was right. Unfastening her seatbelt with still shaking fingers, she gasped as he placed one of his gloved hands on hers. 'No, you stay there,' he instructed. 'I'm already dressed for this crazy weather.' A freezing blast of air entered the car as he darted back outside. As the door closed once more, all that remained of his presence was a faint whiff of delicious smelling aftershave and a melted puddle of snow on the floor. Emily chanced a quick glance at herself in the rear view mirror and instantly regretted doing so; she wasn't looking her best. Although her bright blue eyes sparkled, they were surrounded by an unsurprisingly flushed and blotchy face. Briefly, Emily ran her fingers through her long blonde hair before giving it up as a bad job; she was clearly fighting a losing battle. Moments later, her white knight re-appeared, accompanied by walking boots and an assortment of thick, waterproof coats, hats, scarves and gloves. 'Hey! What are you talking about?' he exclaimed, dumping the collection unceremoniously on his vacant seat. 'You're a highly prepared traveller. You've got clothing for every possible seasonal eventuality back there!' 'It's very kind of you to assume I'm organised,' explained Emily, feeling a little foolish. 'But it's actually just extreme laziness; I basically use my car to store all of my outdoor clothes.' 'Right,' he chuckled. 'Well, I'll leave you to get changed. Oh, do you have an overnight bag, by the way? I couldn't see one.' Emily nodded towards a small rucksack on the back seat. Having kicked off her flat shoes, she was struggling to pull a walking boot on; not an easy task in the presence of a steering wheel. 'Seriously?' he exclaimed. 'That's it?' 'Yeah, that's it,' she confirmed. 'I dropped all my family's gifts off the other week, so I just needed a couple of changes of clothes and some toiletries.' 'Wow, well, I'll stick your bag into my rucksack to save you carrying it, if you like?' 'Thank you, that's really kind.' 'No problem,' he replied, grabbing her bag before doffing an imaginary cap. 'Oh, and don't forget your purse is in the glove compartment, seeing as I never claimed it for my own,' he laughed, closing the door once more. Emily spent the next couple of minutes fighting her way into her outdoor clothing, whilst occasionally glancing through the window to keep track of her masked companion. Unable to open the driver's door, due to the up close and personal presence of an Oak tree, she struggled across the centre console and exited via the passenger side. Immediately, a blast of biting wind cut around her exposed face, thanks to the snow being blown almost diagonally across the white landscape. A shudder of goosebumps passed across her shoulders and she hoped they wouldn't have to be out in such unforgiving conditions for too long. Stowing his phone in a side pocket, the man moved swiftly across to Emily and closed the door behind her. He then held out his hand in an unexpectedly formal way. 'Sam Whitehall,' he announced through the layers of scarf which still covered his face. 'Emily Jones,' she replied, grasping his gloved hand with a grin whilst trying to prevent her teeth from chattering. Now she could see why he was so well wrapped up and quickly pulled her own scarf tightly around her head. It was beyond cold. 'Lovely to meet you, Emily,' he replied. 'Sorry not to have encountered you in more salubrious circumstances. Shall we get going?' 'Are you sure about this? You don't even know me.' 'I know enough,' he confirmed. 'More to the point, you don't know me. I could be a mad axe murderer.' 'Where are your axes then,' laughed Emily, turning to lock the door of her car, surprised when the central locking system still worked, despite the damage. 'Damn,' he chuckled, lifting his rucksack onto his back in preparation. 'I must have left them at home.' 'If axe murdering is your profession, then you're clearly not very good at it,' she concluded. 'So I'll take my chances.' 'It doesn't pay to be too confident,' he teased and Emily could see laughter lines crinkling at the edges of his eyes. 'After you,' he added, holding out his arm in the direction they needed to travel. 'Uh oh. That's exactly what an axe murderer would say,' observed Emily dryly. She was rewarded by hearing his deep, infectious laugh. They started to trudge forward through the treacherous weather. A satisfying crunch accompanied each step underfoot as the snow continued to swirl around them making visibility increasingly difficult. To make matters worse, Emily found it was also difficult to hear very well. Her ears were encompassed under numerous woollen layers, from her attempts to block out the cold and the constant wind didn't help much either. 'Are you absolutely sure your aunt won't mind me turning up too?' she asked in a raised voice. 'Positive,' he bellowed back. 'I texted ahead. It's all fine. She's preparing the sleeping arrangements as we speak.' 'I'm impressed,' she replied. 'Your aunt must be pretty technologically savvy compared to my mum!' That was an understatement. Although her parents shared a Smartphone, the bulk of its functionality remained a mystery to them. Suggesting they log onto the Facebook app would receive an identical response to asking them to reprogramme the Hubble Space Telescope. As a result, the chances of them being aware of an incoming text, let alone replying to it, were exceptionally slim indeed. And that assumed that their phone was switched on in the first place, which it very rarely was. An inability to charge electrical devices was obviously a family failing, inherited through the generations. 'My aunt has always been a very social being,' Sam explained, over the wind and weather. 'And as the modern world enhances her potential to be even more social, she made a conscious decision to embrace technology.' 'And will there be enough room in her house for me?' queried Emily. 'Definitely,' he replied, apparently amused. 'Does she live alone?' 'She's no longer married,' he explained. 'But she's got a housekeeper so fortunately she's rarely alone. She's a real people person. Seems to spend half of her time throwing parties and the other half planning them. Christmas Eve is always the biggest though, so you've chosen exceptionally well. Good job!' 'She's having a party? Tonight? Oh, I couldn't possibly impose on her then. It wouldn't be fair.' 'Nonsense,' chuckled Sam. 'She's already told me in no uncertain terms that she can't wait to meet you. She'll be delighted. And I was attending anyway, although my family won't be able to make it now because of this weather. Perhaps you can be my plus one?' he suggested, swinging around to face her, whilst continuing to walk backwards. 'Okay,' agreed Emily as the look in his eyes caused her stomach to unexpectedly jolt. After that, they progressed for some time in silence, heads bowed down against the driving wind, with gloved hands thrust deep inside their pockets. As they entered a neighbouring village, Sam led them towards the cricket pavilion. In the summer, this was a quintessential English village, with a shop, pub, duck pond, children's play area and cricket pitch. Right now though, it was a barren, white wasteland; any objects daring to rise out of the ground had been blasted with a vertical plastering of sticky snow. Emily observed how the snow was always driven up the same exterior-facing surface, allowing her to identify the predominant wind direction, northerly, she assumed, given the glacial temperatures. Under the protection of the cricket pavilion porch, Sam shrugged off his rucksack, pulled out a bottle of water and handed it across to Emily. She accepted it gratefully, gulping down the liquid, surprised at how thirsty she'd become. 'How are you doing?' he asked kindly. 'Cold but otherwise surprisingly well,' she replied brightly, returning the bottle with thanks. Sam pulled the scarf slightly away from his mouth, revealing a tantalising glimpse of what lay beneath. As he drained the remainder of Emily's bottle of water, she caught sight of his straight, white teeth, dark stubbled face and full, soft lips. Despite the plummeting temperatures, she felt a streak of extreme warmth pass straight through her body. Averting her eyes, to prevent her expression being read, a blushing Emily concentrated hard on her walking boots whilst scrunching up her numb toes within. 'Here,' he said, forcing Emily to look back up again, as he snapped a chocolate bar in two and passed half across to her. As they were both wearing thick, bulky gloves, the transfer of such a small item proved awkward to achieve but, with some chuckling at their incredible incompetence, they eventually succeeded. 'I promise that we'll soon have you somewhere safe and warm. There's nothing at all for you to worry about.' Nodding with gratitude, Emily placed a square of the chocolate covered caramel into her mouth. As the ice cold morsel began to melt luxuriously across her tongue, she couldn't remember ever tasting anything so sublime. 'Um,' she murmured, eyes closed in bliss. 'Thank you. That is so good.' 'You're more than welcome,' he replied, his mouth twitching into a brief smile. 'Are you happy to take a short-cut through the forest? It should reduce our journey time by about twenty minutes.' 'Of course,' grinned Emily, stamping her feet to maintain circulation. 'I trust you.' 'And therein lies your first mistake,' he jokingly replied. To be continued in Part 2 By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. "In her, shoot fast," Principal Chief Massasoit directed, using what words he knew so that he would not surprise or confuse his strange hosts, "I want in her, my first use to take.""First use?!" Miss Americana managed to whimper, in horror, in between the moans and yelps Squanto's big thrusting cock was forcing out of her. But she didn't have long to contemplate that."That is no problem at all, my lord!" Squanto replied. Relaxing himself he thrust his enormous hardened cock deep into Miss Americana and, with a groan of ecstasy, unleashed his potent Pawtuxet seed upon her defenseless womb."Oh, Great Justice!" Americana groaned, her eyes rolling up in her head, as she felt the pulsing of his great cock inside her, and knew it meant that his sperm was flooding into her.He pulled out and then stepped aside, his long cock dripping."I have lubricated her for you, my Sachem," he said, gesturing towards Americana's cunt, which, gaping slightly wider than before, was also already releasing a long tendril of his semen to dangle down between her thighs."Very good!" Massasoit said. He stepped forward and took up his own position behind her. Reaching out he stroked her toned bubble-ass, and shook his head. "This," he said, squeezing Americana's bulging silky cheeks, "is a very rich gift, indeed!"With that he pushed himself up against her leaking cunt, and also entered her."Oh, my God," Miss Americana whimpered, as she too discovered Squanto was not to be a unique case. Her entire body shivered, as the great chief's enormous copper-colored cock sank deep up inside her helplessly quivering cunt."That's a sin!" one of the Pilgrims sitting near her chided, and continued eagerly to watch.At the sight that their chief had accepted the gift and that peace had been restored, the waiting column of Wampanoag warriors let out a great whoop of glee. Then, hoisting their burdens, they marched into the Plymouth settlement. The Pilgrims greeted them warmly, food was handed out, the Pilgrims contributing their meager stocks of beer and bread to the natives' largesse. Soon the great feast was in progress, with Wampanoag and Pilgrim dining and chatting together, sampling the first dishes as the Pilgrim women and their daughters and servants worked to prepare the main courses.And through it all, bent over at one end of the great table at which the First Thanksgiving was being laid, Miss Americana continued to get nailed. Massasoit's great cock, in his eagerness, lasted only slightly longer than Squanto had. But there was plenty more where that had come from. He was followed by Samoset, the Sagamore of the Abanaki tribe, who kept closer tabs on the strange new colonists while the Sachem was busy with other matters. After Samoset, the Sachem's honor guard took their turns; and after they had finished, every warrior in the entire column came up one by one and also partook in Miss Americana's flesh.The Pilgrims, with their Godly morals, piously abstained, but this did not stop the Pilgrim men's faces from showing deep jealousy, that their native guests got to enjoy two great helpings of Thanks-giving bounty instead of just one.In between their own turns upon Miss Americana's body, Massasoit, Squanto, and Samoset took their own seats at the table of the Elders, and with it, a privileged view of the action up between Americana's muscular shivering thighs, as the pale-skinned beauty got nailed by one long uncut native cock after another after another. Between her spread thighs they could also see her enormous breasts hanging down low and swaying wildly over the table as she squealed and squirmed under her furious and unchecked invasions, as if her enormous milk-filled udders were blessing the heavily-laden table with their own generous bounty."Does this disturb you, Pilgrim?" one native who had also picked up some English asked. Sitting down after his own turn inside her he found an open seat before Americana's enormous swaying udders, smoking a post-coital pipe. "I thought your God does not approve of this sort of thing."The Pilgrim shook his head. "Nah," he said. "God makes everyone for a purpose. I think it's pretty clear what he made this one for."Then, leaning forward, the Pilgrim seized one of Americana's giant breasts and held his glass up under it. He squeezed, discharging a rich squirt of milk from the heroine's hanging fruits into his cup. He took the cup back, threw it back, and then licked some of the delicious white super-milk off his lips."Well, that and this!" he said, as he held the glass up.Seeing yet another way in which the mysterious woman could be used in a celebration of plenty, other Pilgrims soon came forward to also eagerly sample the fuck-quivering cow's produce. Americana, too busy squealing as she got nailed by one big native cock after another, could do nothing to resist as her big breasts were squeezed and squeezed until finally even those bottomless udders were drained dry.Eventually, the entire feast had been consumed and everyone was full and sated. Even Americana's belt-boosted strength eventually failed her, and after eighty or so consecutive fucks up against the table her knees finally buckled and she sank down, a quivering wreck. She had taken so much cum inside her that rivers seemed to flow down her thighs, and a huge puddle had formed, which her knees landed in with twin pearly splashes like comets entering an ocean of gooey white fluid.But though she was spent, she had not even begun to exhaust the collective vigor of the Wampanoag delegation. Flipping her over, the warriors positioned her on her back at the edge of the First Thanksgiving table, which, the feast having been largely consumed, was now otherwise covered in a great mass of empty used bowls, plates, and tableware. Then, having positioned her, they continued nailing her almost-limp body face-to-face upon the table, as, around them, the dessert course finally began to be served.The tight order of the early stages of the feast had by now broken down, and Elder and commoner, Indian and Pilgrim were now all mixing freely. Copious quantities of beer had also flowed along with the food, and everyone was now quite contentedly drunk, as while the Puritans were against many things, booze was not actually one of them."I say Reverend," the short Pilgrim commented to William Brewster, as they stood side by side near the entrance of a house and watched Americana's continuing show. "Everyone has eaten their full, except for the harem girl. It seems rather unsuited to a great Thanksgiving like this to leave one, even a harlot and serial adulteress such as she, unsated.""True," the Reverend said. "But the food has already been cleared. What is there for her to eat?""There is, one set of sausages that have not been touched," the tall Pilgrim said, finally dropping what they were angling for. "I know that putting them where the Indians are putting theirs is a sin, but what about her mouth. Does that, you know, count?""Hmm," the Reverend Brewster said. "Normally I would say yes. However, this is a special festive day, and she was clearly sent by Providence itself to perform exactly this, function, so perhaps, just once." As he saw the brightening expressions on the two Pilgrims' faces, he shook his head, and raised a chiding finger. "However, for the sake of the harmony of our settlement," he added, "it is not just God who must be consulted."As it happened, the Reverend's own wife was at that moment emerging from the house behind them, carrying two freshly-baked pies. The Reverend's sons, Truelove Brewster and Wrestling Brewster, trailed behind her, carrying another pie each."What say you, Mary?" the Reverend asked her, knowing full well her sharp ears would have overheard everything."Hmm," Mary Brewster said. She glanced at the other Pilgrim wives scattered about the festival, of which there were not many. Between the composition of the original complement of settlers and the terrible toll of deaths that had occurred over the previous winter, there were now a great deal more men than women in the colony. The few other wives looked at her, significantly, saying nothing but their expressions communicating much. Nodding with understanding, Mary turned back to her husband."I know that men build up a great deal of, pressure, if they are not given release," she said. "So, I would say it is fine if the unmarried or widowed men sate themselves while sating the whore. It might reduce, future problems. But the married men will be sated by their wives, or else!" She lifted up a finger and glared."Of course," Reverend Brewster said. He could not quite keep the disappointment out of his voice that he would not be among those allowed to partake.But before he could give general approval for the new plan, Mary caught one of the other wives widening her eyes to get her attention. The silent wife nodded a couple times, significantly, towards Americana's moaning lips, and then looked at Mary meaningfully. Mary nodded."There is one other condition," she added, hastily. "We good women of the colony have had to endure our husbands watching the whore get nailed, in silence. We have done so, for the future of our settlement. However, we must get compensated." She looked at her husband, her eyes boring into him. "So after the unmarried men have fed her their main course, we will feed her dessert, of the pies we have long had prepared between our legs, but rarely if ever had eaten. Is this clear?"The two junior Pilgrims' eyes widened, as if they had never imagined such a thing."Good heavens!" the tall one said, fingers going to his own lips."Is, is that permitted under Heaven's law, Reverend?" the short one asked."Uh," Reverend Brewster said. He wracked his memory of the Good Book, trying to think of a clear passage one way or the other. "To be honest," he said, "I'm not sure if the Good Lord considers that sex, or not,""Then there should be no problem, should there?" Mary asked testily."I guess not," he said, deciding to err on the side of marital harmony over strict doctrine for once. God's forgiveness, after all, was infinite. His wife's, on the other hand,Of course, before the natives 'peace offering' could be used in this manner, clearance first had to be gotten from Massasoit. But the Great Sachem, in a very relaxed state having thoroughly drained his own scrotum over the course of five separate sessions within Miss Americana, was in a magnanimous mood, and with a simple nod of his bronzed head and wave of his hand signaled his approval.So it was that as the pies got laid out, cut, and consumption began eagerly, one by one Pilgrim men began to ascend the table. As with the Indians, they went in strict order of rank, and, his own wife Rose being one of the casualties of the previous winter, this meant that Myles Standish was first in line."Open wide, and say your grace," he advised her, as having preemptively removed his pants, he came in for a landing on her moaning tongue.Miss Americana whimpered loudly as his cock entered her mouth. Pure instinct took over almost immediately. Wrapping her lips tight around his respectable but, compared to some of the monsters that had been in her cunt that day, modestly-sized cock, she began to suck it enthusiastically."Oh, yes!" Myles said. He lifted his eyes heavenward, as she slurped and slurped upon him. "T-truly, this wench was sent by the Lord!" he said, before erupting down her throat and giving her, her first load of cum to swallow.It would, of course, not be the last. As the lesser Pilgrims had pointed out, while everyone else had had their fill, at this First Thanksgiving Americana had had none. Now, they made up for that. One after another, unmarried Pilgrim men climbed up and, sometimes still eating pieces of pie as they did so, inserted their fresh sausages down between her lips. Americana moaned, and blushed, and sucked each one as vigorously and worshipfully as she could, as if they were truly her gifts from God. One warm protein shake after another poured down her throat, finally filling up her until-now-empty belly, and each and every one she gulped down with a vigor equal to the holiday. Then after each one finished she opened wide and, extending out her tongue, began putting preparatory licks upon the next incoming cock that inevitably replaced the last one in the never-ending cornucopia of cock she was being served.In the meantime, watching all this, and knowing that based on Mary Brewster's pronouncement they would not get their own full Thanksgiving repast any other way, one by one the married Pilgrim men snuck away from the party with their now equally enthused and eager wives, into the bushes or the backs of the more remote houses, to do what married couples do. Although, given the inspirations provided by Americana's marathon performance, they generally put a little more effort and creativity into it than they typically had. One by one, flush-faced and hand-in-hand they returned to the center of the festival, in a few cases with the seeds of another few thousand modern descendants quietly germinating under the Pilgrim women's' hastily re-lowered skirts.So it was that, when the Pilgrim men and the natives alike had finally sated themselves, well after the dessert course and into the after-meal drinking and general turkey-clobbered lethargy, Americana got her final surprise. With the coast finally clear, the Pilgrim wives climbed up one by one and got the 'compensation' that Mary Brewster had negotiated for them. As they lifted their skirts and lowered their unkempt bushes down towards the invading harlot's open gasping lips, Americana moaned to discover, one after another, that there was a pie of fresh cream waiting for her under each and every skirt, to accompany the gutted pumpkin and other pies lying spent all around her.But she didn't have much choice. Digging her tongue up between the wives' outer lips, she did her best to show them how it was done."Oh!" one Pilgrim woman after another sighed, heads rolling and shivering, as they discovered at the tip of the 'harem girl's' practiced tongue a pleasure their husbands had rarely, if ever, managed to provide them. Americana was not by nature a cunt-eater, but she had been put into that position often enough by triumphant villainesses to know her way around. She stroked the inner lips, teased the hood, and then finally went after the excited clit with vigor. And as she did so, streamers and tendrils of married Pilgrim cum poured out into her own mouth, which, like all the others before her, she periodically paused to gulp down hungrily before resuming her probing services.Finally, the last dish of all, the one between the legs of Mary Brewster herself, was served to her. As she stroked and stroked between Mary's labia, and felt the Reverend's hallowed semen wash down her tongue, Americana heard her ear-ring microphone crackle."Just so you know, Miss Americana," she heard Flag Girl's voice say, excitedly, "the semen you are currently eating will give rise to at least one Nobel Prize recipient, several Oscar-winning actresses and actors, one Supreme Court Justice, several Governors and Senators, a bunch of highly decorated Admirals in the U.S. Navy, and one President." The events she was getting to witness through the professor's Time Viewer were inspiring an interest in history the airheaded sidekick had never felt before, and she was eagerly scrolling through the lists of descendants of the various people her mentor was getting fucked by. "Isn't that cool?!" Americana heard her squeal.Americana whimpered. "Wonderful," she managed to moan into Mary Brewster's cunt, and with a lap of her tongue, sent more thrillingly historically-significant semen running down her throat.At last even the Pilgrim women had had their fill of serving up themselves, and receiving the novel pleasures of the harem girl's tongue in return. With Pilgrim and native alike now full and tired, they all started to decamp. The Pilgrims wandered back into their homes. The native leaders had had a few dwellings set aside for them, and the rest would make camp just outside the settlement.As the throng began to disperse, Governor Bradford, Squanto, and Massasoit stood side-by-side, surveying what was left of the Pilgrims' 'peace offering'.Americana lay sprawled upon the Thanksgiving table, as utterly and thoroughly consumed as any of the empty dishes all around her. She was not unconscious, but her blue eyes stared glassily up at the sky and didn't seem to see anything. She still had her belt, no one knowing to try to take it off of her, but despite that no muscle of her mighty curvy body seemed capable of movement, save for the slow rise and fall of her huge breasts as she breathed. Rivers of cum seemed to pour out of her cunt, spilling down in waterfalls between the planks of the table to form a vast growing lake underneath it."Shall we clean this mess up?" Governor Bradford asked, nodding towards Miss Americana.Without waiting for his interpreter, Massasoit shook his head. "No need," he said."It can wait until morning," Squanto assured him, smirking at the sight of the sprawled fucked-out white harlot. "Everyone is very tired and content.""Especially her!" Massasoit said, and tilting his head back let out a booming laugh."Should we post a guard on her then?" Governor Bradford asked.Massasoit again shook his head."The Sachem's warriors watch well all the approaches through the woods," Squanto advised. "No enemy tribe will enter here to take her. As for her, look at her. Do you think she can even walk at this point, let alone outrun the finest hunters of the Wampanoag people?""Good point," Governor Bradford admitted. "So, in that case, I have a small stash of brandy left. Shall we share some?"At this Massasoit tilted his head back and laughed vigorously. "Now this, is a good idea!" he said.With that the two natives and the Pilgrim turned and proceeded to the Governor's house, to continue their conversation.Americana was left alone, lying spent on the First Thanksgiving table. Soon all around her was quiet, save for the distant sound of a couple married Pilgrims getting in a second round. Panting, she stared at the stars, still in shock. Occasionally her gloved fingers twitched, down beside her wide and absurdly well-filled hips. Other than that, huge buns squished against the rough-hewn planks of the table, and huge tits rising and falling in the cool Massachusetts night, she could make no other move.At last, everyone nearby had either left or fallen asleep, and the coast was clear. Miss Americana's body began to glow. Her bikini, having been passed around and marveled at by various members of the party before being finally added as decorative elements to the top of the main centerpiece, glowed as well. Her chain, which had been secured to one leg of the table some time ago, did not.With a flash she was gone, leaving the Plymouth colony as mysteriously as she had entered it. The chain, disturbed by the wind of her passage, clanked to the ground. Pilgrims and natives alike would find it empty in the morning and assume that against all odds the 'harem girl' had managed to slip away in the night, and was probably therefore a witch after all. But, having already gotten very full use of her cunt, and since the blame for this could only rest primarily on his own sleepy sentries, Massasoit would not fault the Pilgrims for this and the treaty would not again be endangered. History, such as it was, for better or worse, was saved.Back in the current time, Flag Girl stood by, shivering nervously, as she watched the professor work the controls. A shining form slowly appeared upon the platform, a sprawled and shapely silhouette laid out spread-eagled atop it. Two smaller blobs appeared beside her, for her retrieved bra and panties.Then, with a last flash, the reverse time passage was complete. The machine hummed down, as Miss Americana and her discarded costume lay quivering upon the platform, once more in the flesh."Oh, thank the Goddess!" Flag Girl gasped, rushing forward in relief. Then, halfway to embracing her mistress, she suddenly gasped, skidded to a halt and froze. "Wha-what?" she gasped."Oh, yes," the Professor said. Looking down upon Americana from the control station beside the platform, he scratched his head sheepishly. "Yes, sometimes the time particles have, odd effects like this."Upon the platform Miss Americana groaned. Having recovered some of her strength and energy during the passage back, she lifted her head. She gasped, her curvy naked body rolling back and forth upon the platform, as rivers of semen continued to drip off it. Then, lifting one hand up to hold her head, she raised the other to comfortingly caress her aching belly, and then suddenly let out a loud yelp."Wha- what the?!" Miss Americana gasped.Lifting up her trembling gloved hand, she raised her head and stared down between her breasts in shock. There, rising up before her, which her fingers had unexpectedly encountered, her once-flat belly had already started to swell upwards considerably. She was six or seven months' pregnant, at least."Oh, Gah-Great Justice!" Miss Americana groaned, staring at her own enormous belly in disbelief."What, what happened?" Flag Girl squealed, hands over her lips."As I said," the professor said. Picking up a hand-held bio-scanner, he leaned over and began using it to examine Miss Americana's swollen belly. "The time-stream can have, odd effects sometimes. The exterior didn't age a day, if the still-runny and viable state of all this semen is any indication. The inside, well," He shrugged.Miss Americana shook her head, eyes glued to her impregnated body. As the Professor had stated, despite the advanced state of her pregnancy, streamers of seemingly fresh and gooey cum continued to flow out of her ravaged cunt lips, down onto the platform, spreading around her buxom buns."There's, there's no way my sonic device can deal with this," she whimpered. "Could you get me to Doctor Lingam fast? Maybe, maybe she could still fix this for me.""Maybe," the Professor admitted, still studying his scanner. "The time particles may make that more complicated than expected. But regardless of one's normal feelings on that practice, I think it might be considered a particularly sticky matter in this case, regardless.""What, what are you talking about, Professor?" the Queen of Justice gasped.He pointed at his scanner readout. "The other half of the genetic material in your womb matches no known human bloodline," he said. "Do you know what that means?"Miss Americana shook her head, glaring up at him furiously. "No of course not!" she said. "But since it's god-damn inside of me, just tell me!""The Native American known as Squanto," the Professor said, still looking over his readings with clinical detachment, "he was the one who had the first crack at your cunt, correct? And he was among the longest of those who fucked you, based on what we saw on the viewer, so if anyone's sperm reached your egg first, it was probably his. Correct?""Yes!" Americana said. She squirmed in particular, at the mention of the native interpreter's long cock, as it promptly dragged up deep memories of what it had felt like inside her. "Get to the point!" she said, naming an activity that none of the natives who had fucked her, least of all Squanto himself, had had any trouble at all doing within her."Well," he said. "In history as we previously understood it, the Pawtuxet tribe was entirely wiped out by disease save for one survivor. That would be Squanto. History tells us that he succumbed to European diseases himself shortly after the First Thanksgiving, and fathered no known children, thus making him the very last of his people."Turning it around, he showed her the readings on his bio-scanner."Until now," he said.Americana stared at the readings on the scanner in shock. In addition to all the genetic readings it also revealed to her that Squanto had gotten a jump on repopulating his tribe in another way as well. It wasn't one baby inside her, it was twins. Both boys. She turned and looked at her impregnated belly. Then she looked back at the scanner."Oh, oh shit," she whispered softly.Flag Girl suddenly started bouncing eagerly on her heels, having finally processed with her limited teen brainpower what the adults were talking about. "Oh, yay, Miss A!" she squealed. "You're going to be, like, the step-mother of an entire nation! Isn't that so cool?"Her face shivering in horror and wonder behind her star-spangled patriotic mask, Miss Americana shivered. "Oh, oh my fucking God!" she moaned.Overcome by the implications, she slumped back down onto the platform, her buxom naked body once more too overcome by what was happening to it to rise at all. Quivering against the floor, she shook and gasped in disbelief, as the seed of a vanished people suddenly re-birthed after a four-hundred-year absence continued to germinate eagerly within her patriotic womb.Back in the past, Governor Bradford had passed out in his chair. On a paper beside him, he had already taken some hasty notes about how the day's events could be carefully edited in the colonial records to preserve decorum. Massasoit and Tisquantum, still holding glasses of the governor's best brandy, had wandered to the outskirts of the colony. The escape of the busty peace offering had not yet been discovered. Sitting down on the side on a large rock by the shore they observed the light of the moon on the harbor in which the strangers had first arrived.'Does it ever disturb you,' Massasoit suddenly asked, in the Wampanoag tongue, 'to have to teach these people to live atop the graves of your tribe?''Sometimes' Tisquantum admitted. 'But I must do what is best for my people, and I trust you see that better than me.''I hope that I do,' Massasoit said. 'Being Sachem is not restful. I do sympathize though. The ghosts that dwell here cannot give you much rest either.'Looking out over the shining harbor Tisquantum thought back to playing upon this very rock as a child. He thought about the teenage girl he had courted, upon the hill above, who, as it turned out, he had never gotten to make his wife. He knew what remained of her was under a tree not far away, and visited it occasionally when no one else was watching.But, because it was so recent, he could also not help but remember the peace offering's cunt squeezing tight around his cock as he unleashed his seed into her.'It's alright,' he said. 'They just got a very tiny bit quieter for some reason.'Beside him, Massasoit let out a tiny bark of laughter. 'Yes, I'll bet!' he said.Then, raising their glasses of brandy, they chuckled as they each enjoyed a sip while looking out over the shining sea to the distant horizon.By Mark V Sharp for Literotica.Historical Characters:Massasoit, Sachem (essentially chief-over-other-chiefs) of the Wampanoag Confederacy, which dominated much of the land around the Plymouth settlement. Historically he signed a peace treaty with Governor John Carver in early 1621 that would last for nearly a century. He was also the one who sent Squanto to act as their interpreter and advisor. The land the colony was built on had been occupied by one of the tribes of his confederacy which, save for Squanto, had been entirely wiped out by disease. Without his help, including repeated deliveries of food, it is very unlikely the Plymouth colony would have survived.Tisquantum aka Squanto, last surviving member of the Pawtuxet tribe, whose vacant village the Pilgrims essentially settled on top of. The entire rest of the tribe was wiped out by a sudden outbreak of disease a few years before their arrival, most likely smallpox; Squanto escaped this fate by being kidnapped by an English explorer and sold into slavery in Spain, during which time he learned English. Eventually returning to his native land he was sent by Massasoit as the ambassador to his new white allies, and according to legend assisted the Pilgrims greatly in learning to survive in their new home. In actual history he would die of disease in 1622, a year after the so-called 'First Thanksgiving', leaving no known issue.William Brewster, though in reality the English Dissenters were a relatively egalitarian lot that rejected formal religious authorities, William Brewster is generally recognized as the chief spiritual leader and authority of the early colony. I just titled him 'Reverend' for simplicity's sake. Like many of the Pilgrims William Brewster has tens of thousands of known latter-day or modern-day descendants, but his list is particularly impressive including John Foster Dulles, Richard Gere, Katherine Hepburn, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Sarah Palin, Nelson Rockefeller, Supreme Court Justice David Souter, Commodore Matthew Perry (the dude who 'opened' Japan), Robert Noyce (the inventor of the integrated circuit), World War 2 Admiral William 'Bull' Halsey, and President Zachary Taylor.Mary Brewster, William Brewster's wife and mother of his children. I have no historical information that Mary Brewster had the slightest interest in receiving cunnilingus from other women; on the other hand I also don't have any hard information that she didn't.Truelove Brewster and Wrestling Brewster: no, really, these are the actual names William Brewster gave his sons. Also named his daughter 'Fear'.William Bradford, second Governor of the Plymouth Colony, after the first governor John Carver died of disease early in 1621. His journal, titled 'Of Plymouth Plantation,' is one of the primary historical sources on the early colony, including the First Thanksgiving. His descendants include Alec Baldwin, Clint Eastwood, Christopher Reeve, and Noah Webster, of 'Webster's Dictionary' fame. Unfortunately, William Bradford named his sons boring things like 'William Jr.' and 'Joseph' instead of the bat-shit awesome stuff William Brewster came up with, so I didn't give them any cameos.Myles Standish, hired by the Merchant Adventurers (non-religious monetary backers of the Mayflower expedition who were in it for potential trading profits) as a military advisor; Myles was not a Puritan, but was instead a career military man and veteran of warfare against the Spanish in Holland. However, he still was one of the signatories to the Mayflower Compact.

When you travel, your body language can actually say a lot about where you're from, even if you don't realize it. For example, people from different countries use their fingers differently to count—some start with their thumb, while others begin with their pinky. Americans might wave differently or give a thumbs-up, which can mean something completely different in another country. Nodding or shaking your head doesn't mean the same thing everywhere either; in some places, nodding can mean “no”! Gestures like pointing or making a circle with your fingers (like the “OK” sign) might be seen as rude in other cultures. So, being aware of these differences can help you avoid misunderstandings and connect better with people when you travel. #brightside Animation is created by Bright Side. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Music by Epidemic Sound https://www.epidemicsound.com Check our Bright Side podcast on Spotify and leave a positive review! https://open.spotify.com/show/0hUkPxD... Subscribe to Bright Side: https://goo.gl/rQTJZz ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Our Social Media: Facebook:   / brightside   Instagram:   / brightside.official   TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@brightside.of... Stock materials (photos, footages and other): https://www.depositphotos.com https://www.shutterstock.com https://www.eastnews.ru ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For more videos and articles visit: http://www.brightside.me Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Is it sinfulness; or desire for a blessing?By cocteleo. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010A London Parish VicarReverend William Seldon, vicar of a well-to-do church in London, was having a hard time writing his next sermon. He was in the middle of wrestling with the topic of the evils of lust when his housekeeper knocked on his study door and came in bearing a tea tray.As the plump and comfortable middle-aged woman set it down on his desk, she said, "Begging your pardon, sir, but I thought you might like a bite or two.""Ah yes, thank you, Mrs. Blandford." He set his pen down and rubbed at his tired eyes.His servant gave him a scolding look as she poured him a cup and handed him a plate of biscuits. "You've been working too hard, sir. You need to rest more!"Mrs. Blandford bustled around the small space, straightening and picking up discarded handkerchiefs and odds and ends, and after once more admonishing him to take a break, she left him alone again.William sighed as he distractedly ran his hands through his hair and stared unseeing down at what he had written. The problem wasn't that he had been working too hard. His church was not in the most fashionable part of town, but nor was it in an impoverished part either. There were plenty of middle-class Londoners among his flock, and they were a tame lot who paid their tithes on time. No, he did not worry about their everlasting souls, nor did he worry about his financial status, which was quite comfortable.One paragraph of his sermon caught his eye. "To lust is to submit to the Devil's will. It is a dark and twisted path to hell, and we must do all that we can to maintain purity and innocence of mind. To live healthy and clean is to gain the path of Heaven."William leaned back in his chair, looking at the wall where a portrait of his deceased father hung. His father had also been a vicar and moreover, an extremely moral, upright man. The grim face in the portrait was set in lines of disapproval, as if he knew William's shameful, dark thoughts.If only his problems were as simple as material wealth and the salvation of his congregants! No, his problem was worse, much worse. He struggled mightily for a minute, trying to focus on his sermon, but there was no helping it. With a shameful desperation, he sprang to his feet and locked the door, quickly returning to his desk.After opening the bottom drawer, he easily found and pulled out a booklet from its hiding place. The pages were worn and thin from many readings. He flipped it open to his favorite part, a series of illustrations that began with an extremely well-endowed woman fellating a man with a giant cock. Just the sight of those beloved pages had him immediately hard and ready, and he took his cock out of his breeches and began stroking it with a sigh of pleasure as he gazed hungrily at the naughty pictures.Instead of the woman in the drawings, however, he imagined instead a young woman with curly blonde hair and crystal blue eyes, kneeling before him and wrapping her pink lips around his cock. She was voracious, sucking and licking him with complete abandon and enthusiasm. William could almost feel the moist heat, the sucking pull of her mouth.It had been a long time since he had felt a woman's touch. He and his friend, Andrew Jennings, had gone to quite a few brothels during their university days. There were also several willing barmaids in the local taverns who were always ready for a tumble with randy young students in exchange for a few coins. But ever since he had taken over his London parish as vicar, he felt a heavy weight of responsibility, and could always hear in his mind his father's sober remonstrances to lead his flock by example.Closing his eyes, William focused again on the thought of the young woman's luscious body. Just yesterday, as they were climbing the narrow stairs of the Tower of London, he had allowed her to pass him and she had squeezed by, inadvertently brushing her round arse against the front of his trousers, where he was, as always around her, sporting a substantial bulge. Then, on the way down, she had bumped her large, soft breasts against his chest. He groaned now, remembering the feel of those plump, bouncing orbs. Those simple, innocent touches had kept him hard during the entire excursion, which made it damned difficult to go up and down those stairs!He pumped his dripping member ever harder now, thinking of her ample bosom. In his fantasy, she wrapped her fat tits around his cock, using her tongue on the head as it appeared between the pale mounds with every stroke. He fisted himself ever faster, nearing his release, panting now. William turned the page again to see the woman laid out on her back, taking that huge cock into her cunt. In his imaginings, her face transformed into one of ripe, young innocence, trusting and loving as he thrust into her tight, wet cunny. When she licked her lips and gave him a sultry smile, William was done for."Oh fuck!" he grunted as he came, his balls boiling with pleasure. He caught his seed in his handkerchief before it could soil his shirt, and gave his cock a few more slow strokes, savoring the echoes of his blissful release.Fleetingly, he thought of the last time he had lain with a woman, during an orgy that he and Andrew had attended as a last hurrah before being ordained a few years ago. He had fucked so many women that night, his cock had been slightly raw the next day. There was one busty woman that he had pounded into from behind while she sucked on Andrew's shaft, moaning lasciviously the whole time. Her cunny had felt so tight and hot and wet, and her round ass had bounced appealingly with every thrust. Three years was too long to go celibate, perhaps. It was as good as any reason to blame for his recent insatiable sexual appetite.As soon as his lusty urges had been sated, he was again filled with the same shame and self-admonishment that had been haunting him more and more lately. Groaning, he crumpled the handkerchief into a ball and buttoned himself back up. Mrs. Blandford must wonder why he went through so many handkerchiefs every day.With a heavy sigh, tinged with guilt, he carefully put away the dirty picture book and turned again to his sermon. Lust! He felt like such a fraud. He couldn't even go one day without stroking himself off. In fact, he often did it two or three times a day now.The Chamberlains in LondonThe clock on the mantel chimed the hour and William stood, both trepidation and excitement filling him. It was time to call on the Chamberlains'.Two months ago, he had received a letter from another Oxford friend, Henry Carter. Henry had gotten married two years ago to Miss Belinda Chamberlain and already had one son. Andrew Jennings, on a visit to him in Glenwood, had met and soon married the middle sister, Fiona.In the letter, Henry had explained that his father and mother-in-law were in town with their youngest daughter, Jane, for the London season. Could William be so kind as to pay a call? Without her two sisters, both of whom were in confinement and expecting a child at any moment, Jane had no one but her parents for ready company in London."I hope you will be able to find some time to visit them, William. My sister-in-law is charming and droll; you will not find it any chore to spend time with her. She is likely a little lonely without her sisters, so I think a friendly face would be welcome."The Chamberlains had indeed welcomed him with open arms."Any friend of Henry and Andrew's must be a friend of ours!" they said whenever he politely protested their constant invitations to tea and dinner. This afternoon, he was to call for Jane and lead her on a tour of the latest exhibition at the Royal Museum.In less than half an hour, he was in the Chamberlains' sitting room, attempting to appear calm as Miss Jane entered with her mother. He clasped her hand as she lifted her pretty face and smiled up at him. Her blue eyes sparkled and her blonde curls shone in the afternoon light.Yes, Jane Chamberlain was the same girl William had just degraded in his fantasy, had made into fuel for his shameful self-pleasure.In fact, ever since he had first met her, calling soon after he had received Henry's letter, she had taken over his fevered mind. Her perky breasts, always displayed in low-cut bodices, and her lush curves kept his cock half hard whenever they were together, and as he had found himself designated as her London tour guide, they were together a lot.Spending so much time in Jane's company was a delectable torture. William found her a very agreeable and charming girl, just as Henry had described. But it was her body, a body that seemed tailor-made for bawdy sex, that made him burn. Whenever he stroked himself, it was Jane that he would guiltily undress in his mind.William could imagine her huge, perky tits bouncing as he fucked her while she lay on her back. He could picture taking her from behind as he massaged and spanked her round ass. In fact, in his fantasies, Jane had done innumerable nasty acts, things he was sure she had never even heard hints of.But he couldn't stop, and in fact, now had to masturbate before their every meeting to take the edge off. Just the sight of Jane's deep décolletage could turn him into a stammering fool. He was having to find more and more creative ways to hide his raging erections, despite his frequent self-pleasuring, and the amount of handkerchiefs he was going through these days was unprecedented.Jane herself seemed to be completely oblivious of the effect she had on him. Her behavior was always perfectly poised and lady-like. She had a wry sense of humor and had often remarked that she enjoyed his company, but he had never detected even a suggestion of flirtation on her part. William found that he liked her more and more as the weeks passed, and had even wondered if he should join his friends in selecting a Chamberlain daughter for his bride.But he just couldn't imagine asking Jane to suck his cock or allow him to eat her cunny, let alone do the dozens of even more debauched acts he constantly envisioned when he took himself in hand. A well-behaved lady such as herself expected sex to be done under the covers in the dark, and to do it only as much as necessary. She wasn't a whore in a brothel, after all. She would want to be treated with the utmost respect, in bed and out.With a start, he became aware that Mrs. Chamberlain was speaking to him. "I hope this won't inconvenience you too much, Mr. Seldon? After all, you can always go to the Royal Museum some other afternoon.""Err, yes?" he said, utterly bewildered. What had he just missed as he mused on Jane's womanly qualities?At that moment, the butler opened the doors of the sitting room and announced, "Dr. Hoffman, ma'am."A distinguished looking older gentleman with a white beard and mustache came in. He executed a stiff bow and nodded at William. "Is this the priest?" he asked in a slight Germanic accent."Yes, doctor, we have invited him just as you asked." Mrs. Chamberlain made the introductions and then asked anxiously, "Where shall the examination take place?"The doctor's sober gray eyes took in the sitting room, elegantly appointed in tasteful furniture. He pointed to a chaise lounge and said, "That shall do very nicely, ma'am. Now, I must ask you to let the priest and I do our work. If mothers are in the room, I have found that it is less likely the patient will be truthful.""Oh, doctor, is that really necessary?" Mrs. Chamberlain fluttered her handkerchief and William finally noticed that she did not seem herself this afternoon. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she showed every indication of bursting into tears at any minute. Jane, on the other hand, looked as serene and self-possessed as ever as she sat primly on a chair. William wondered what on earth was going on."Now, now, Mrs. Chamberlain. You must trust to my methods and let me do what you hired me to do." The doctor's words were calm and reassuring as he led the lady out of the room. "I shall call you when I am ready. Why don't you have a rest in your room upstairs while we are conducting the examination?"Nodding disconsolately, Mrs. Chamberlain sniffled as she exited. Dr. Hoffman closed the door behind her and locked it, pocketing the key. At William's raised eyebrow, he explained, "I have found it is best to ensure privacy from any impertinent servants."Carrying his large, black medical bag towards the chaise lounge, he set it down on a low table. At his direction, William carried two chairs over and placed them right at the end of the low sofa."Now Miss Jane," the doctor said, gesturing towards the girl, who had been quietly watching the proceedings with bright, curious eyes. "Please, come here."Obediently, Jane stood and walked towards them. William tried to catch her eye in inquiry, still being wholly unaware as to what was happening, but she was gazing expectantly at Dr. Hoffman."We shall disrobe now, eh?" that man said, to William's utter amazement. In a state of shock, he watched as Jane docilely turned so that the doctor could begin unbuttoning her simple muslin dress, letting it pool at her feet. He did not stop there; he continued to divest Jane of every item of clothing until all of her perfect loveliness was bared. Then, she was led to the chaise and laid down.By this time, William was feeling slightly dizzy. All of his fantasies for the past several weeks had not prepared him for seeing Jane's creamy, rose-tipped breasts, her alabaster expanse of skin, her delectable nakedness in person. Her tits looked as delicious as he had always imagined, unmarred by any deformity. And they were the perfect size, large handfuls that jiggled with every movement as she settled herself against the brocade fabric cushions."Is this how you want me, doctor?""Yes, yes, that's quite all right, my dear." Dr. Hoffman replied in a brisk, practical tone. "Now where did I put those forceps?" he muttered, rummaging in his bag, not even looking at Jane.William, however, could not help staring. He knew he had an enormous bulge in his trousers, but there was no helping that in the current situation. Jane reclined on one elbow, her other hand lightly tracing her collarbone. He followed the line of her legs to the light patch of blonde curls at their apex. It was impossible to know where to keep his gaze. The enticing vee between her legs beckoned, but so did the swells of her bountiful bosom, her smooth belly, her pink lips.Jane startled him out of his focused perusal of her body by saying, "Thank you ever so much for agreeing to help with the examination, Mr. Seldon."He dragged his eyes to hers, which were sparkling with merriment and mischief. It was difficult to believe, but she did not seem to have any embarrassment or self-consciousness at her nudity. She seemed as tranquil as if they really were just walking through a museum. William, on the other hand, could almost hear his own heart beating."Yes, very important to have a priest on hand," said Dr. Hoffman, turning towards them. "They are always so pure and trustworthy, you see."William only nodded as he swallowed thickly. It wouldn't do to tell the doctor that his thoughts were far from pure at the moment. But he would have said or done anything to stay in that room.The doctor gestured him to one of the chairs and William sat, Jane's ripe, young body laid out before him like a feast.Taking the other chair, Dr. Hoffman set a tray of instruments down on a low end table between them. Then, he guided Jane so that she lay with her bum at the edge of the sofa. He spread her legs, placing her feet on either side of the piece of furniture, and William began to salivate as Jane's perfect, pink cunny came into view.It was glistening slightly and Dr. Hoffman tisked as he leaned forward and swiped a finger through the slick folds. Shaking his head, he held it up to William. "So wet already. I'm afraid this is a serious case, Mr. Seldon.""A serious case of what?" William was still completely bewildered."Why, of sinful lust, of course. You see how her nipples are extended. How engorged her vaginal lips are." He used the same finger to trace her entrance and Jane moaned, eliciting another series of disappointed clucks from the doctor. "And look at her clitoris! It is almost throbbing, you see?" He pinched it between his fingers and Jane gasped."Oh yes, doctor! Please touch it more!" she begged.But Dr. Hoffman just shook his head again and sighed. "I am not sure if there is any treatment for such an extreme case as this, but I promised Mrs. Chamberlain I would at least complete the examination. You, Mr. Seldon, shall help me."He pulled out a notebook and gestured to the tray of instruments. "Now, if you could please insert the brass condenser rod into her rectal cavity?"His hand was trembling slightly, but William eagerly found the long cylindrical instrument, about the thickness of his finger, already coated in oil. Leaning forward, he began to insert it into Jane's arse.There was a slight resistance and Jane let out a whimper. William paused at the sound, looking up and meeting her gaze. There was no trepidation, however, in her expression. Only a fierce hunger in her eyes as she stared back at him. "Oh yes," she whispered as he resumed sliding it slowly inside."Miss Jane, that was placed very easily by Mr. Seldon. Have you ever put anything inside your anus?" the doctor sternly asked as he made notations."Umm, ever so many things," Jane said. She was caressing her breasts now and under William's hot gaze, she pinched and pulled at her nipples."Your mother said you were found in the kitchen yesterday, using a mincing pestle to violate your rectum. Is this true?" The doctor was busily scribbling, completely unaware that William still held the thermometer and was lightly thrusting it back and forth in Jane's tight bum."Yes, doctor," she gasped."Not only is that an abominably unhygienic use of a pestle, Miss Jane, but don't you understand that this is a disgusting and depraved act?" Dr. Hoffman looked up now and William quickly let go of the thermometer, leaving it seated deep inside Jane's ass."Umm, but doctor, it feels so good!" Jane was shifting restlessly on the couch now. Her cunny was gushing fluids, coating the insides of her thighs. William could smell her musky odor and it made him salivate even more."Humph!" The doctor went back to his notebook. "Mr. Seldon, if you would be so kind as to check if Miss Jane's hymen is still intact?""Yes, of course," William said, attempting to hide the excitement in his voice. He spread Jane's lips open with his left hand and with his right, inserted two fingers into her moist depths. His stiff cock gave a twitch as he felt a woman's cunny for the first time in years; it was exquisite. At hearing Jane's appreciative moan, he looked up and saw her watching him, her lids half-lowered. When she licked her lips, William nearly groaned aloud.He circled his fingers in her sopping cunt, relishing its tight heat. The thought of feeling her wonderful cunny wrapped around his cock was causing him to leak precum like a hose in his trousers."Well, Mr. Seldon?""Oh, err, I'm afraid I don't feel anything, doctor."Letting out another one of his disappointed sighs, Dr. Hoffman said, "It is just as her mother feared. She found this in Miss Jane's bedchamber the other day." With his pencil, he tapped a large wooden dildo that was on the tray with the other instruments. "Look at the size of this, sir! Really, Miss Jane, wherever did you get this?""Why, my sister Fiona gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday. She said it was a tradition in our family." William felt a jolt go through him at hearing the name of Andrew Jennings' wife.Dr. Hoffman scoffed. "Tradition! Yes, your mother told me of the scandalous behavior of your sisters. A licentious strain in the family blood, I suppose, although it is very interesting that all three siblings seem to have it."Pulling a handkerchief out of his breast pocket, he offered it to William. "You may cease now, Mr. Seldon. You are being a very cooperative assistant and I am very grateful."Clearing his throat, William politely refused as he reluctantly parted from Jane's cunny. "Ah, no thanks, doctor, I have my own handkerchief just here," he said, reaching into his waistcoat pocket. But instead of using it, William quickly stuck his fingers in his mouth as the doctor turned away. He sucked off Jane's juices, savoring their delicious flavor.

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Miss Americana goes to the First Thanksgiving: Part 2A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.“In her, shoot fast,” Principal Chief Massasoit directed, using what words he knew so that he would not surprise or confuse his strange hosts, “I want in her, my first use to take.”“First use?!” Miss Americana managed to whimper, in horror, in between the moans and yelps Squanto’s big thrusting cock was forcing out of her. But she didn’t have long to contemplate that.“That is no problem at all, my lord!” Squanto replied. Relaxing himself he thrust his enormous hardened cock deep into Miss Americana and, with a groan of ecstasy, unleashed his potent Pawtuxet seed upon her defenseless womb.“Oh, Great Justice!” Americana groaned, her eyes rolling up in her head, as she felt the pulsing of his great cock inside her, and knew it meant that his sperm was flooding into her.He pulled out and then stepped aside, his long cock dripping.“I have lubricated her for you, my Sachem,” he said, gesturing towards Americana’s cunt, which, gaping slightly wider than before, was also already releasing a long tendril of his semen to dangle down between her thighs.“Very good!” Massasoit said. He stepped forward and took up his own position behind her. Reaching out he stroked her toned bubble-ass, and shook his head. “This,” he said, squeezing Americana’s bulging silky cheeks, “is a very rich gift, indeed!”With that he pushed himself up against her leaking cunt, and also entered her.“Oh, my God,” Miss Americana whimpered, as she too discovered Squanto was not to be a unique case. Her entire body shivered, as the great chief’s enormous copper-colored cock sank deep up inside her helplessly quivering cunt.“That’s a sin!” one of the Pilgrims sitting near her chided, and continued eagerly to watch.At the sight that their chief had accepted the gift and that peace had been restored, the waiting column of Wampanoag warriors let out a great whoop of glee. Then, hoisting their burdens, they marched into the Plymouth settlement. The Pilgrims greeted them warmly, food was handed out, the Pilgrims contributing their meager stocks of beer and bread to the natives’ largesse. Soon the great feast was in progress, with Wampanoag and Pilgrim dining and chatting together, sampling the first dishes as the Pilgrim women and their daughters and servants worked to prepare the main courses.And through it all, bent over at one end of the great table at which the First Thanksgiving was being laid, Miss Americana continued to get nailed. Massasoit’s great cock, in his eagerness, lasted only slightly longer than Squanto had. But there was plenty more where that had come from. He was followed by Samoset, the Sagamore of the Abanaki tribe, who kept closer tabs on the strange new colonists while the Sachem was busy with other matters. After Samoset, the Sachem’s honor guard took their turns; and after they had finished, every warrior in the entire column came up one by one and also partook in Miss Americana’s flesh.The Pilgrims, with their Godly morals, piously abstained, but this did not stop the Pilgrim men’s faces from showing deep jealousy, that their native guests got to enjoy two great helpings of Thanks-giving bounty instead of just one.In between their own turns upon Miss Americana’s body, Massasoit, Squanto, and Samoset took their own seats at the table of the Elders, and with it, a privileged view of the action up between Americana’s muscular shivering thighs, as the pale-skinned beauty got nailed by one long uncut native cock after another after another. Between her spread thighs they could also see her enormous breasts hanging down low and swaying wildly over the table as she squealed and squirmed under her furious and unchecked invasions, as if her enormous milk-filled udders were blessing the heavily-laden table with their own generous bounty.“Does this disturb you, Pilgrim?” one native who had also picked up some English asked. Sitting down after his own turn inside her he found an open seat before Americana’s enormous swaying udders, smoking a post-coital pipe. “I thought your God does not approve of this sort of thing.”The Pilgrim shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “God makes everyone for a purpose. I think it’s pretty clear what he made this one for.”Then, leaning forward, the Pilgrim seized one of Americana’s giant breasts and held his glass up under it. He squeezed, discharging a rich squirt of milk from the heroine’s hanging fruits into his cup. He took the cup back, threw it back, and then licked some of the delicious white super-milk off his lips.“Well, that and this!” he said, as he held the glass up.Seeing yet another way in which the mysterious woman could be used in a celebration of plenty, other Pilgrims soon came forward to also eagerly sample the fuck-quivering cow’s produce. Americana, too busy squealing as she got nailed by one big native cock after another, could do nothing to resist as her big breasts were squeezed and squeezed until finally even those bottomless udders were drained dry.Eventually, the entire feast had been consumed and everyone was full and sated. Even Americana’s belt-boosted strength eventually failed her, and after eighty or so consecutive fucks up against the table her knees finally buckled and she sank down, a quivering wreck. She had taken so much cum inside her that rivers seemed to flow down her thighs, and a huge puddle had formed, which her knees landed in with twin pearly splashes like comets entering an ocean of gooey white fluid.But though she was spent, she had not even begun to exhaust the collective vigor of the Wampanoag delegation. Flipping her over, the warriors positioned her on her back at the edge of the First Thanksgiving table, which, the feast having been largely consumed, was now otherwise covered in a great mass of empty used bowls, plates, and tableware. Then, having positioned her, they continued nailing her almost-limp body face-to-face upon the table, as, around them, the dessert course finally began to be served.The tight order of the early stages of the feast had by now broken down, and Elder and commoner, Indian and Pilgrim were now all mixing freely. Copious quantities of beer had also flowed along with the food, and everyone was now quite contentedly drunk, as while the Puritans were against many things, booze was not actually one of them.“I say Reverend,” the short Pilgrim commented to William Brewster, as they stood side by side near the entrance of a house and watched Americana’s continuing show. “Everyone has eaten their full, except for the harem girl. It seems rather unsuited to a great Thanksgiving like this to leave one, even a harlot and serial adulteress such as she, unsated.”“True,” the Reverend said. “But the food has already been cleared. What is there for her to eat?”“There is, one set of sausages that have not been touched,” the tall Pilgrim said, finally dropping what they were angling for. “I know that putting them where the Indians are putting theirs is a sin, but what about her mouth. Does that, you know, count?”“Hmm,” the Reverend Brewster said. “Normally I would say yes. However, this is a special festive day, and she was clearly sent by Providence itself to perform exactly this, function, so perhaps, just once.” As he saw the brightening expressions on the two Pilgrims’ faces, he shook his head, and raised a chiding finger. “However, for the sake of the harmony of our settlement,” he added, “it is not just God who must be consulted.”As it happened, the Reverend’s own wife was at that moment emerging from the house behind them, carrying two freshly-baked pies. The Reverend’s sons, Truelove Brewster and Wrestling Brewster, trailed behind her, carrying another pie each.“What say you, Mary?” the Reverend asked her, knowing full well her sharp ears would have overheard everything.“Hmm,” Mary Brewster said. She glanced at the other Pilgrim wives scattered about the festival, of which there were not many. Between the composition of the original complement of settlers and the terrible toll of deaths that had occurred over the previous winter, there were now a great deal more men than women in the colony. The few other wives looked at her, significantly, saying nothing but their expressions communicating much. Nodding with understanding, Mary turned back to her husband.“I know that men build up a great deal of, pressure, if they are not given release,” she said. “So, I would say it is fine if the unmarried or widowed men sate themselves while sating the whore. It might reduce, future problems. But the married men will be sated by their wives, or else!” She lifted up a finger and glared.“Of course,” Reverend Brewster said. He could not quite keep the disappointment out of his voice that he would not be among those allowed to partake.But before he could give general approval for the new plan, Mary caught one of the other wives widening her eyes to get her attention. The silent wife nodded a couple times, significantly, towards Americana’s moaning lips, and then looked at Mary meaningfully. Mary nodded.“There is one other condition,” she added, hastily. “We good women of the colony have had to endure our husbands watching the whore get nailed, in silence. We have done so, for the future of our settlement. However, we must get compensated.” She looked at her husband, her eyes boring into him. “So after the unmarried men have fed her their main course, we will feed her dessert, of the pies we have long had prepared between our legs, but rarely if ever had eaten. Is this clear?”The two junior Pilgrims’ eyes widened, as if they had never imagined such a thing.“Good heavens!” the tall one said, fingers going to his own lips.“Is, is that permitted under Heaven’s law, Reverend?” the short one asked.“Uh,” Reverend Brewster said. He wracked his memory of the Good Book, trying to think of a clear passage one way or the other. “To be honest,” he said, “I’m not sure if the Good Lord considers that sex, or not,”“Then there should be no problem, should there?” Mary asked testily.“I guess not,” he said, deciding to err on the side of marital harmony over strict doctrine for once. God’s forgiveness, after all, was infinite. His wife’s, on the other hand,Of course, before the natives ‘peace offering’ could be used in this manner, clearance first had to be gotten from Massasoit. But the Great Sachem, in a very relaxed state having thoroughly drained his own scrotum over the course of five separate sessions within Miss Americana, was in a magnanimous mood, and with a simple nod of his bronzed head and wave of his hand signaled his approval.So it was that as the pies got laid out, cut, and consumption began eagerly, one by one Pilgrim men began to ascend the table. As with the Indians, they went in strict order of rank, and, his own wife Rose being one of the casualties of the previous winter, this meant that Myles Standish was first in line.“Open wide, and say your grace,” he advised her, as having preemptively removed his pants, he came in for a landing on her moaning tongue.Miss Americana whimpered loudly as his cock entered her mouth. Pure instinct took over almost immediately. Wrapping her lips tight around his respectable but, compared to some of the monsters that had been in her cunt that day, modestly-sized cock, she began to suck it enthusiastically.“Oh, yes!” Myles said. He lifted his eyes heavenward, as she slurped and slurped upon him. “T-truly, this wench was sent by the Lord!” he said, before erupting down her throat and giving her, her first load of cum to swallow.It would, of course, not be the last. As the lesser Pilgrims had pointed out, while everyone else had had their fill, at this First Thanksgiving Americana had had none. Now, they made up for that. One after another, unmarried Pilgrim men climbed up and, sometimes still eating pieces of pie as they did so, inserted their fresh sausages down between her lips. Americana moaned, and blushed, and sucked each one as vigorously and worshipfully as she could, as if they were truly her gifts from God. One warm protein shake after another poured down her throat, finally filling up her until-now-empty belly, and each and every one she gulped down with a vigor equal to the holiday. Then after each one finished she opened wide and, extending out her tongue, began putting preparatory licks upon the next incoming cock that inevitably replaced the last one in the never-ending cornucopia of cock she was being served.In the meantime, watching all this, and knowing that based on Mary Brewster’s pronouncement they would not get their own full Thanksgiving repast any other way, one by one the married Pilgrim men snuck away from the party with their now equally enthused and eager wives, into the bushes or the backs of the more remote houses, to do what married couples do. Although, given the inspirations provided by Americana’s marathon performance, they generally put a little more effort and creativity into it than they typically had. One by one, flush-faced and hand-in-hand they returned to the center of the festival, in a few cases with the seeds of another few thousand modern descendants quietly germinating under the Pilgrim women's’ hastily re-lowered skirts.So it was that, when the Pilgrim men and the natives alike had finally sated themselves, well after the dessert course and into the after-meal drinking and general turkey-clobbered lethargy, Americana got her final surprise. With the coast finally clear, the Pilgrim wives climbed up one by one and got the 'compensation’ that Mary Brewster had negotiated for them. As they lifted their skirts and lowered their unkempt bushes down towards the invading harlot’s open gasping lips, Americana moaned to discover, one after another, that there was a pie of fresh cream waiting for her under each and every skirt, to accompany the gutted pumpkin and other pies lying spent all around her.But she didn’t have much choice. Digging her tongue up between the wives’ outer lips, she did her best to show them how it was done.“Oh!” one Pilgrim woman after another sighed, heads rolling and shivering, as they discovered at the tip of the 'harem girl’s’ practiced tongue a pleasure their husbands had rarely, if ever, managed to provide them. Americana was not by nature a cunt-eater, but she had been put into that position often enough by triumphant villainesses to know her way around. She stroked the inner lips, teased the hood, and then finally went after the excited clit with vigor. And as she did so, streamers and tendrils of married Pilgrim cum poured out into her own mouth, which, like all the others before her, she periodically paused to gulp down hungrily before resuming her probing services.Finally, the last dish of all, the one between the legs of Mary Brewster herself, was served to her. As she stroked and stroked between Mary’s labia, and felt the Reverend’s hallowed semen wash down her tongue, Americana heard her ear-ring microphone crackle.“Just so you know, Miss Americana,” she heard Flag Girl’s voice say, excitedly, “the semen you are currently eating will give rise to at least one Nobel Prize recipient, several Oscar-winning actresses and actors, one Supreme Court Justice, several Governors and Senators, a bunch of highly decorated Admirals in the U.S. Navy, and one President.” The events she was getting to witness through the professor’s Time Viewer were inspiring an interest in history the airheaded sidekick had never felt before, and she was eagerly scrolling through the lists of descendants of the various people her mentor was getting fucked by. “Isn’t that cool?!” Americana heard her squeal.Americana whimpered. “Wonderful,” she managed to moan into Mary Brewster’s cunt, and with a lap of her tongue, sent more thrillingly historically-significant semen running down her throat.At last even the Pilgrim women had had their fill of serving up themselves, and receiving the novel pleasures of the harem girl’s tongue in return. With Pilgrim and native alike now full and tired, they all started to decamp. The Pilgrims wandered back into their homes. The native leaders had had a few dwellings set aside for them, and the rest would make camp just outside the settlement.As the throng began to disperse, Governor Bradford, Squanto, and Massasoit stood side-by-side, surveying what was left of the Pilgrims’ 'peace offering’.Americana lay sprawled upon the Thanksgiving table, as utterly and thoroughly consumed as any of the empty dishes all around her. She was not unconscious, but her blue eyes stared glassily up at the sky and didn’t seem to see anything. She still had her belt, no one knowing to try to take it off of her, but despite that no muscle of her mighty curvy body seemed capable of movement, save for the slow rise and fall of her huge breasts as she breathed. Rivers of cum seemed to pour out of her cunt, spilling down in waterfalls between the planks of the table to form a vast growing lake underneath it.“Shall we clean this mess up?” Governor Bradford asked, nodding towards Miss Americana.Without waiting for his interpreter, Massasoit shook his head. “No need,” he said.“It can wait until morning,” Squanto assured him, smirking at the sight of the sprawled fucked-out white harlot. “Everyone is very tired and content.”“Especially her!” Massasoit said, and tilting his head back let out a booming laugh.“Should we post a guard on her then?” Governor Bradford asked.Massasoit again shook his head.“The Sachem’s warriors watch well all the approaches through the woods,” Squanto advised. “No enemy tribe will enter here to take her. As for her, look at her. Do you think she can even walk at this point, let alone outrun the finest hunters of the Wampanoag people?”“Good point,” Governor Bradford admitted. “So, in that case, I have a small stash of brandy left. Shall we share some?”At this Massasoit tilted his head back and laughed vigorously. “Now this, is a good idea!” he said.With that the two natives and the Pilgrim turned and proceeded to the Governor’s house, to continue their conversation.Americana was left alone, lying spent on the First Thanksgiving table. Soon all around her was quiet, save for the distant sound of a couple married Pilgrims getting in a second round. Panting, she stared at the stars, still in shock. Occasionally her gloved fingers twitched, down beside her wide and absurdly well-filled hips. Other than that, huge buns sq

Miss Americana goes to the First Thanksgiving: Part 2A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.“In her, shoot fast,” Principal Chief Massasoit directed, using what words he knew so that he would not surprise or confuse his strange hosts, “I want in her, my first use to take.”“First use?!” Miss Americana managed to whimper, in horror, in between the moans and yelps Squanto’s big thrusting cock was forcing out of her. But she didn’t have long to contemplate that.“That is no problem at all, my lord!” Squanto replied. Relaxing himself he thrust his enormous hardened cock deep into Miss Americana and, with a groan of ecstasy, unleashed his potent Pawtuxet seed upon her defenseless womb.“Oh, Great Justice!” Americana groaned, her eyes rolling up in her head, as she felt the pulsing of his great cock inside her, and knew it meant that his sperm was flooding into her.He pulled out and then stepped aside, his long cock dripping.“I have lubricated her for you, my Sachem,” he said, gesturing towards Americana’s cunt, which, gaping slightly wider than before, was also already releasing a long tendril of his semen to dangle down between her thighs.“Very good!” Massasoit said. He stepped forward and took up his own position behind her. Reaching out he stroked her toned bubble-ass, and shook his head. “This,” he said, squeezing Americana’s bulging silky cheeks, “is a very rich gift, indeed!”With that he pushed himself up against her leaking cunt, and also entered her.“Oh, my God,” Miss Americana whimpered, as she too discovered Squanto was not to be a unique case. Her entire body shivered, as the great chief’s enormous copper-colored cock sank deep up inside her helplessly quivering cunt.“That’s a sin!” one of the Pilgrims sitting near her chided, and continued eagerly to watch.At the sight that their chief had accepted the gift and that peace had been restored, the waiting column of Wampanoag warriors let out a great whoop of glee. Then, hoisting their burdens, they marched into the Plymouth settlement. The Pilgrims greeted them warmly, food was handed out, the Pilgrims contributing their meager stocks of beer and bread to the natives’ largesse. Soon the great feast was in progress, with Wampanoag and Pilgrim dining and chatting together, sampling the first dishes as the Pilgrim women and their daughters and servants worked to prepare the main courses.And through it all, bent over at one end of the great table at which the First Thanksgiving was being laid, Miss Americana continued to get nailed. Massasoit’s great cock, in his eagerness, lasted only slightly longer than Squanto had. But there was plenty more where that had come from. He was followed by Samoset, the Sagamore of the Abanaki tribe, who kept closer tabs on the strange new colonists while the Sachem was busy with other matters. After Samoset, the Sachem’s honor guard took their turns; and after they had finished, every warrior in the entire column came up one by one and also partook in Miss Americana’s flesh.The Pilgrims, with their Godly morals, piously abstained, but this did not stop the Pilgrim men’s faces from showing deep jealousy, that their native guests got to enjoy two great helpings of Thanks-giving bounty instead of just one.In between their own turns upon Miss Americana’s body, Massasoit, Squanto, and Samoset took their own seats at the table of the Elders, and with it, a privileged view of the action up between Americana’s muscular shivering thighs, as the pale-skinned beauty got nailed by one long uncut native cock after another after another. Between her spread thighs they could also see her enormous breasts hanging down low and swaying wildly over the table as she squealed and squirmed under her furious and unchecked invasions, as if her enormous milk-filled udders were blessing the heavily-laden table with their own generous bounty.“Does this disturb you, Pilgrim?” one native who had also picked up some English asked. Sitting down after his own turn inside her he found an open seat before Americana’s enormous swaying udders, smoking a post-coital pipe. “I thought your God does not approve of this sort of thing.”The Pilgrim shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “God makes everyone for a purpose. I think it’s pretty clear what he made this one for.”Then, leaning forward, the Pilgrim seized one of Americana’s giant breasts and held his glass up under it. He squeezed, discharging a rich squirt of milk from the heroine’s hanging fruits into his cup. He took the cup back, threw it back, and then licked some of the delicious white super-milk off his lips.“Well, that and this!” he said, as he held the glass up.Seeing yet another way in which the mysterious woman could be used in a celebration of plenty, other Pilgrims soon came forward to also eagerly sample the fuck-quivering cow’s produce. Americana, too busy squealing as she got nailed by one big native cock after another, could do nothing to resist as her big breasts were squeezed and squeezed until finally even those bottomless udders were drained dry.Eventually, the entire feast had been consumed and everyone was full and sated. Even Americana’s belt-boosted strength eventually failed her, and after eighty or so consecutive fucks up against the table her knees finally buckled and she sank down, a quivering wreck. She had taken so much cum inside her that rivers seemed to flow down her thighs, and a huge puddle had formed, which her knees landed in with twin pearly splashes like comets entering an ocean of gooey white fluid.But though she was spent, she had not even begun to exhaust the collective vigor of the Wampanoag delegation. Flipping her over, the warriors positioned her on her back at the edge of the First Thanksgiving table, which, the feast having been largely consumed, was now otherwise covered in a great mass of empty used bowls, plates, and tableware. Then, having positioned her, they continued nailing her almost-limp body face-to-face upon the table, as, around them, the dessert course finally began to be served.The tight order of the early stages of the feast had by now broken down, and Elder and commoner, Indian and Pilgrim were now all mixing freely. Copious quantities of beer had also flowed along with the food, and everyone was now quite contentedly drunk, as while the Puritans were against many things, booze was not actually one of them.“I say Reverend,” the short Pilgrim commented to William Brewster, as they stood side by side near the entrance of a house and watched Americana’s continuing show. “Everyone has eaten their full, except for the harem girl. It seems rather unsuited to a great Thanksgiving like this to leave one, even a harlot and serial adulteress such as she, unsated.”“True,” the Reverend said. “But the food has already been cleared. What is there for her to eat?”“There is, one set of sausages that have not been touched,” the tall Pilgrim said, finally dropping what they were angling for. “I know that putting them where the Indians are putting theirs is a sin, but what about her mouth. Does that, you know, count?”“Hmm,” the Reverend Brewster said. “Normally I would say yes. However, this is a special festive day, and she was clearly sent by Providence itself to perform exactly this, function, so perhaps, just once.” As he saw the brightening expressions on the two Pilgrims’ faces, he shook his head, and raised a chiding finger. “However, for the sake of the harmony of our settlement,” he added, “it is not just God who must be consulted.”As it happened, the Reverend’s own wife was at that moment emerging from the house behind them, carrying two freshly-baked pies. The Reverend’s sons, Truelove Brewster and Wrestling Brewster, trailed behind her, carrying another pie each.“What say you, Mary?” the Reverend asked her, knowing full well her sharp ears would have overheard everything.“Hmm,” Mary Brewster said. She glanced at the other Pilgrim wives scattered about the festival, of which there were not many. Between the composition of the original complement of settlers and the terrible toll of deaths that had occurred over the previous winter, there were now a great deal more men than women in the colony. The few other wives looked at her, significantly, saying nothing but their expressions communicating much. Nodding with understanding, Mary turned back to her husband.“I know that men build up a great deal of, pressure, if they are not given release,” she said. “So, I would say it is fine if the unmarried or widowed men sate themselves while sating the whore. It might reduce, future problems. But the married men will be sated by their wives, or else!” She lifted up a finger and glared.“Of course,” Reverend Brewster said. He could not quite keep the disappointment out of his voice that he would not be among those allowed to partake.But before he could give general approval for the new plan, Mary caught one of the other wives widening her eyes to get her attention. The silent wife nodded a couple times, significantly, towards Americana’s moaning lips, and then looked at Mary meaningfully. Mary nodded.“There is one other condition,” she added, hastily. “We good women of the colony have had to endure our husbands watching the whore get nailed, in silence. We have done so, for the future of our settlement. However, we must get compensated.” She looked at her husband, her eyes boring into him. “So after the unmarried men have fed her their main course, we will feed her dessert, of the pies we have long had prepared between our legs, but rarely if ever had eaten. Is this clear?”The two junior Pilgrims’ eyes widened, as if they had never imagined such a thing.“Good heavens!” the tall one said, fingers going to his own lips.“Is, is that permitted under Heaven’s law, Reverend?” the short one asked.“Uh,” Reverend Brewster said. He wracked his memory of the Good Book, trying to think of a clear passage one way or the other. “To be honest,” he said, “I’m not sure if the Good Lord considers that sex, or not,”“Then there should be no problem, should there?” Mary asked testily.“I guess not,” he said, deciding to err on the side of marital harmony over strict doctrine for once. God’s forgiveness, after all, was infinite. His wife’s, on the other hand,Of course, before the natives ‘peace offering’ could be used in this manner, clearance first had to be gotten from Massasoit. But the Great Sachem, in a very relaxed state having thoroughly drained his own scrotum over the course of five separate sessions within Miss Americana, was in a magnanimous mood, and with a simple nod of his bronzed head and wave of his hand signaled his approval.So it was that as the pies got laid out, cut, and consumption began eagerly, one by one Pilgrim men began to ascend the table. As with the Indians, they went in strict order of rank, and, his own wife Rose being one of the casualties of the previous winter, this meant that Myles Standish was first in line.“Open wide, and say your grace,” he advised her, as having preemptively removed his pants, he came in for a landing on her moaning tongue.Miss Americana whimpered loudly as his cock entered her mouth. Pure instinct took over almost immediately. Wrapping her lips tight around his respectable but, compared to some of the monsters that had been in her cunt that day, modestly-sized cock, she began to suck it enthusiastically.“Oh, yes!” Myles said. He lifted his eyes heavenward, as she slurped and slurped upon him. “T-truly, this wench was sent by the Lord!” he said, before erupting down her throat and giving her, her first load of cum to swallow.It would, of course, not be the last. As the lesser Pilgrims had pointed out, while everyone else had had their fill, at this First Thanksgiving Americana had had none. Now, they made up for that. One after another, unmarried Pilgrim men climbed up and, sometimes still eating pieces of pie as they did so, inserted their fresh sausages down between her lips. Americana moaned, and blushed, and sucked each one as vigorously and worshipfully as she could, as if they were truly her gifts from God. One warm protein shake after another poured down her throat, finally filling up her until-now-empty belly, and each and every one she gulped down with a vigor equal to the holiday. Then after each one finished she opened wide and, extending out her tongue, began putting preparatory licks upon the next incoming cock that inevitably replaced the last one in the never-ending cornucopia of cock she was being served.In the meantime, watching all this, and knowing that based on Mary Brewster’s pronouncement they would not get their own full Thanksgiving repast any other way, one by one the married Pilgrim men snuck away from the party with their now equally enthused and eager wives, into the bushes or the backs of the more remote houses, to do what married couples do. Although, given the inspirations provided by Americana’s marathon performance, they generally put a little more effort and creativity into it than they typically had. One by one, flush-faced and hand-in-hand they returned to the center of the festival, in a few cases with the seeds of another few thousand modern descendants quietly germinating under the Pilgrim women's’ hastily re-lowered skirts.So it was that, when the Pilgrim men and the natives alike had finally sated themselves, well after the dessert course and into the after-meal drinking and general turkey-clobbered lethargy, Americana got her final surprise. With the coast finally clear, the Pilgrim wives climbed up one by one and got the 'compensation’ that Mary Brewster had negotiated for them. As they lifted their skirts and lowered their unkempt bushes down towards the invading harlot’s open gasping lips, Americana moaned to discover, one after another, that there was a pie of fresh cream waiting for her under each and every skirt, to accompany the gutted pumpkin and other pies lying spent all around her.But she didn’t have much choice. Digging her tongue up between the wives’ outer lips, she did her best to show them how it was done.“Oh!” one Pilgrim woman after another sighed, heads rolling and shivering, as they discovered at the tip of the 'harem girl’s’ practiced tongue a pleasure their husbands had rarely, if ever, managed to provide them. Americana was not by nature a cunt-eater, but she had been put into that position often enough by triumphant villainesses to know her way around. She stroked the inner lips, teased the hood, and then finally went after the excited clit with vigor. And as she did so, streamers and tendrils of married Pilgrim cum poured out into her own mouth, which, like all the others before her, she periodically paused to gulp down hungrily before resuming her probing services.Finally, the last dish of all, the one between the legs of Mary Brewster herself, was served to her. As she stroked and stroked between Mary’s labia, and felt the Reverend’s hallowed semen wash down her tongue, Americana heard her ear-ring microphone crackle.“Just so you know, Miss Americana,” she heard Flag Girl’s voice say, excitedly, “the semen you are currently eating will give rise to at least one Nobel Prize recipient, several Oscar-winning actresses and actors, one Supreme Court Justice, several Governors and Senators, a bunch of highly decorated Admirals in the U.S. Navy, and one President.” The events she was getting to witness through the professor’s Time Viewer were inspiring an interest in history the airheaded sidekick had never felt before, and she was eagerly scrolling through the lists of descendants of the various people her mentor was getting fucked by. “Isn’t that cool?!” Americana heard her squeal.Americana whimpered. “Wonderful,” she managed to moan into Mary Brewster’s cunt, and with a lap of her tongue, sent more thrillingly historically-significant semen running down her throat.At last even the Pilgrim women had had their fill of serving up themselves, and receiving the novel pleasures of the harem girl’s tongue in return. With Pilgrim and native alike now full and tired, they all started to decamp. The Pilgrims wandered back into their homes. The native leaders had had a few dwellings set aside for them, and the rest would make camp just outside the settlement.As the throng began to disperse, Governor Bradford, Squanto, and Massasoit stood side-by-side, surveying what was left of the Pilgrims’ 'peace offering’.Americana lay sprawled upon the Thanksgiving table, as utterly and thoroughly consumed as any of the empty dishes all around her. She was not unconscious, but her blue eyes stared glassily up at the sky and didn’t seem to see anything. She still had her belt, no one knowing to try to take it off of her, but despite that no muscle of her mighty curvy body seemed capable of movement, save for the slow rise and fall of her huge breasts as she breathed. Rivers of cum seemed to pour out of her cunt, spilling down in waterfalls between the planks of the table to form a vast growing lake underneath it.“Shall we clean this mess up?” Governor Bradford asked, nodding towards Miss Americana.Without waiting for his interpreter, Massasoit shook his head. “No need,” he said.“It can wait until morning,” Squanto assured him, smirking at the sight of the sprawled fucked-out white harlot. “Everyone is very tired and content.”“Especially her!” Massasoit said, and tilting his head back let out a booming laugh.“Should we post a guard on her then?” Governor Bradford asked.Massasoit again shook his head.“The Sachem’s warriors watch well all the approaches through the woods,” Squanto advised. “No enemy tribe will enter here to take her. As for her, look at her. Do you think she can even walk at this point, let alone outrun the finest hunters of the Wampanoag people?”“Good point,” Governor Bradford admitted. “So, in that case, I have a small stash of brandy left. Shall we share some?”At this Massasoit tilted his head back and laughed vigorously. “Now this, is a good idea!” he said.With that the two natives and the Pilgrim turned and proceeded to the Governor’s house, to continue their conversation.Americana was left alone, lying spent on the First Thanksgiving table. Soon all around her was quiet, save for the distant sound of a couple married Pilgrims getting in a second round. Panting, she stared at the stars, still in shock. Occasionally her gloved fingers twitched, down beside her wide and absurdly well-filled hips. Other than that, huge buns sq

Erica talks about recent YA books to read during Summerween, while Kelly interviews debut YA author Chatham Greenfield about their book Time and Time Again, time loop stories, and disability in YA. Subscribe to the podcast via RSS, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. To get even more YA news and recommendations, sign up for our What's Up in YA newsletter! Learn something new, sharpen your skills, and expand your horizons with our Better Living Through Books newsletter. Better Living Through Books is your resource for reading material that helps you live the life you want. From self-help to cookbooks to parenting to personal finance, relationships, and more, Better Living Through Books has got you covered. If it's part of life, it can be part of your reading life. That's what Better Living Through Books is all about. Visit bookriot.com/betterliving to subscribe for free, or become an All Access member starting at $6 per month or $60 per year and get unlimited access to members-only content in 20+ newsletters, community features, and the warm fuzzies knowing you are supporting independent media. This content contains affiliate links. When you buy through these links, we may earn an affiliate commission. Books Discussed Gravity Falls clip The Blonde Dies First by Joelle Wellington Here Lies a Vengeful Bitch by Codie Crowley Undead Girl Gang by Lily Anderson Dead Girls Walking by Sami Ellis The Dark We Know by Wen-yi Lee Monstrous by Jessica Lewis Bad Witch Burning by Jessica Lewis She is a Haunting by Trang Thanh Tran Gravity Falls (show) X-Files (shows) So Weird (shows) The Evil Dead (movie) So Witches We Became by Jill Baguchinsky This Ravenous Fate by Hayley Dennings Come Out, Come Out by Natalie C. Parker Time and Time Again by Chatham Greenfield The No Girlfriend Rule by Christen Randall This Is Why They Hate Us by Aaron H. Aceves See You Yesterday by Rachel Lynn Solomon How To Excavate a Heart by Jake Maia Arlow Groundhog Day (movie) Russian Doll (show) Palm Springs (movie) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode of "Everyday Health Stories," Dr. Kota Reddy delves into the story of Clara, a 45-year-old librarian grappling with mysterious heart palpitations. Clara's poetic descriptions of her symptoms—ranging from gentle nods to frantic rushes—lead Dr. Reddy to collaborate with an electrophysiologist to uncover the underlying cause: Supraventricular Tachycardia (SVT). The episode not only unravels the complexities of heart rhythm disorders but also underscores the importance of clear communication between patients and healthcare providers, the power of detailed observation, and the impact of a collaborative approach in managing serious health conditions. Through Clara's journey, listeners gain insights into the intricacies of heart health and the critical role of proactive patient involvement in achieving successful outcomes.

Dive into the hilarious world of miscommunication in relationships with Ryan Davis on the latest episode of FOQN Funny. Why do men just say 'wow, that's crazy' when you talk? Ryan breaks down this funny-but-true dilemma and more. Craving more laughs? Click now at https://foqnfunny.com to catch the full comedy special! Love what you're hearing on FOQN Funny? Go a step further and become a member of FOQN Funny+. Enjoy exclusive perks and never-ending laughter. Join now at: https://plus.acast.com/s/foqn-funny. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Are you confident in your choice of financial advisor? In our latest episode of the Mind Your Money podcast, Trent Bradshaw and Brandon Rogers from Bradshaw Rogers Financial Partners discuss the common mistakes people make when selecting a financial advisor. Learn about the importance of understanding advisor compensation, the pitfalls of trusting big brand names, and the significance of checking credentials and fiduciary status. Don't miss these valuable insights to help you make informed decisions about your financial future.   Here are some of the excuses we'll discuss in the episode: Not understanding how the advisor gets paid Putting too much trust in a recognizable national brand name Nodding and smiling instead of asking for clarification on things you don't understand Working with someone with the wrong specialty Not checking credentials or the advisor's background Ignoring the advisor's fiduciary status Not covering expectations for communication style & frequency Forgetting to ask about the advisor's network and resources (like estate planning contacts, CPA relation-ships, etc.) Not asking about the advisor's succession plan Not requesting examples of success stories or references To hear more about these common mistakes and how to avoid them, listen to the full episode of the Mind Your Money podcast.   Contact: Website: http://bradshawfp.com  Email: office@bradshawfp.com Call: 704-216-2260

Choosing forgiveness aligns with God's heart and unlocks healing and freedom, both for ourselves and others. Listen in and uncover the transformative power of forgiveness and why it's essential for every follower of Christ. SUBSCRIBE to our sister podcasts:Your Daily Prayer: https://www.lifeaudio.com/your-daily-prayer/Your Daily Bible Verse: https://www.lifeaudio.com/your-daily-bible-verse/ Full Transcription Below: Welcome to the crosswalk, devotional work Glad to have you listening with us. Today's topic is on why unforgiveness is absolutely not an option. We will return with the devotional after a brief message from our sponsors. Why unforgiveness is not an option written and read by Kelly Balarie. Then Peter came up and said to him, Lord, how often will my brother sin against me and I forgive him? As many as seven times. Jesus said to him, I do not say to you seven times, but 77 times! Matthew 18:21-22.  I was furious at this person sitting on the couch, I knew there may as well have been a brick wall between us. I was angry, I felt unprotected and exposed. I didn't want to get hurt again. Fools do that. Sure. His words sounded apologetic, but could I trust them? He was saying one thing. But all my emotions wanted to believe another. Nodding, I pretended like everything was okay. At the same time, my mind circled back to a conversation I recently had with a friend. She explained how she didn't intend to send me a podcast to teach me a lesson, or to prove a point. She just wanted to know my opinion about it. I remember thinking, I have to trust her at her word. Otherwise, if I go by a feeling, I will not go about forgiving. I told her, friend, I know your heart. I immediately moved on from bitterness. What can I do the same thing with this man? Why couldn't I trust his heart? Why couldn't I take him at his word? I sat with that thought. After a time I came to the fact that Jesus doesn't tell me It's an option that I forgive. He doesn't tell me it might be a good idea that I forgive. Jesus tells me TO forgive.  Then Peter came up and said to him, Lord, how often will my brother sinned against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times. Jesus said to him, I do not say to you seven times. But 77 times.. Matthew 18:21,- 22. Man will fail us 77 times. And God calls us to forgive them 77 times, even when by our natural, we have no good reason as to why we should forgive them. Never once did Jesus say, we have to understand every reason why. He just tells us to forgive. To Love the Lord is to obey his commands. To give someone forgiveness is to offer them a fresh start. Jesus is though way, so certainly his truth leads the way to abundant life. This doesn't mean we abandoned reason or wisdom as we forgive. Certainly boundaries, and wise words are always needed. At the same time, the calling to forgive still stands to.  Who do you need to forgive today. How might God be preparing something new for you in that relationship? How might God be growing fruit in you? How might this growing of fruit in your life affect others? Friends, forgiveness is never merited hardly deserved, but it is always required. We forgive just as Jesus forgave us, intersecting faith and life. Then Peter came up and said to him, Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times. Jesus said to him, I do not say to you seven times But 77 times this indicates that man will hurt us many, many times. Not only will they hurt us, but they will verifiably sin against us. When we know that someone has not only hurt us, but they have blatantly sinned in our face, how will we handle it? Are we a person of grace or Venga? Do we continually blame and point fingers at the past or at the person? Or do we make way for an immediate and radical forgiveness? The crosswalk devotional is a production of life audio and Salem media. If you liked what you heard today, please take a second to rate and review this podcast in your favorite podcast app so that more listeners like you can find the show. For more faith filled inspirational podcasts, visit us at lifeaudio.com   Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

Join Premium! Ready for an ad-free meditation experience? Join Premium now and get every episode from ALL of our podcasts completely ad-free now! Just a few clicks makes it easy for you to listen on your favorite podcast player.  Become a PREMIUM member today by going to --> https://WomensMeditationNetwork.com/premium A new location, a new job, a new relationship, a new endeavor...anything new can bring up anxiety, Even when the new is good or exciting. So tonight's meditation will help you fall asleep easily, as you release the worries, fears and anxieties about anything new you're experiencing.   And help you surrender to the beauty of this new phase of your journey. So breathe, my love, And bring your attention here, Deep into your body, The in and out of your breath. Far away from the movement inside your head, And instead onto the rising and falling of your belly, The cool air on your nose as you breathe in, And the warm air on your nose as you breathe out. The feeling of your body relaxing into the support beneath you, Further and further with every breath. PAUSE… Listen to the sounds of the night around you, Perhaps there's a quiet humming of noise, Or gentle whispers of a breeze, Or the soft movement of the sheets on your bed. PAUSE… Find your rhythm, Connecting deeply with the motion of your body, As you enter this moment completely.  One with your breath, One with your body, One with the night. One with yourself.  PAUSE… A new season is here for you, As you sail your ship into new waters. This is new territory, A brand new experience. You glance upon the crystal blue waters, Carefully taking note of what you see. Gorgeous mountains in the distance, Colored with greys and purples as they rise to touch the sky. Diamonds are sparkling on every blue wave in front of you, Thousands of glimmery reflections of the sun dancing with the movement.  The welcoming green of land surrounds you to your right, And makes you feel a little more safe. PAUSE... But you're still here, Alone on your boat, Navigating brand new waters. And you feel the anxiety rise. PAUSE... All of the unknowns, All of the fears, All of the what if's. They all hide under the surface of the ocean in front of you, And deep inside the core of you. PAUSE… It's okay that they're here. It's okay that you're feeling them. They're part of the landscape, Part of the journey. So rest deeper into it all,  And allow yourself to be here with all of it, Nodding softly to the anxiety,  Recognizing it, Naming it, And honoring its presence here, Accepting the part it plays in the whole story. PAUSE… Now breathe, sweet one, And bring yourself closer, Deeper into yourself and the truth of your soul. The truth that knows that you are meant to steer this ship, That you are worthy of all this newness has to offer, And that there is nothing that could possibly arise from the depths of the ocean, That could ever defeat you. No anxiety or fear that could ever dim your light. PAUSE… So rest now, my love, Deeply relaxed and one with yourself. Completely surrendered to the complexities that make up your beautiful, Magical journey. Sweet Dreams, Beautiful.

The truth comes out in Anavrin forcing the DDS to make a choice, fight or flee.

mostly 90's and some early 00's hip hop music. mos def, common, nwa, beatnuts, gangstarr, tribe, kanye, dialated peoples, rakim, snoop, black moon, cypress hill, busta rhymes etc. I like it. follow @dj_sunn

We're two-faced! Cinco de Mayo. 24yo black died in NY! Sadiq Khan 3rd term London Mayor! FE debunked by globe! Hispanic accents! The Hake Report, Monday, May 6, 2024 AD TIME STAMPS * (0:00:00) Start * (0:02:55) Hey, guys! Life w/o thinking (BOND tee) No beach stream (yet) * (0:06:30) Hake didn't get snake footage! * (0:09:23) BRETT, NV: People changing face seemingly * (0:14:40) BRETT: San Onofre beach, dogs, CA beaches (Newport, HB) * (0:18:20) Nodding, greeting people, diversity * (0:19:59) Cinco de Mayo, mostly American Mexican, crime * (0:27:25) American Indians, more European than Asian? ("Native American") * (0:28:14) 24yo Daequan Buckley shot in NY. "Family" talks. (15yo charged.) * (0:41:16) 24yo black man's past, family situation, culture, coverage * (0:44:35) Sadiq Khan 3rd term London Mayor (beat Susan Hall) * (1:03:12) Sadiq background (mamas hate dad's "hate") * (1:06:56) LN - "Forgotten Ships" - (2002 album Novel) * (1:12:17) Rumble: EvilIsStillReal vs Kevin Howe, Kids; Carnivore Diet * (1:16:56) Coffee: Truck Driver, T-Rex-Chicken Evolution, FE debunked by globe! * (1:23:27) JAIME, MN: FE; "liberal" Christian group discussion, they like me! * (1:33:03) DANIEL, Texas pronunciation (Hispanic accent), Nevada * (1:35:36) DANIEL: Mama spirit leaders, watch people fight, nice to enemy * (1:41:15) DANIEL: Skills, national security, being dishonest, poker face * (1:42:38) DANIEL: FE, don't like getting into labels, Sean producer globe smash * (1:44:33) Hispanic accents in America, are they evil? * (1:46:20) Coffee: PopcornsThumpKeg on SEEING homeless * (1:48:20) Coffees: Black or white? Principal Hake? Lamps (Rest of supers tmrw!)* (1:49:43) Soul-Junk - "Horse Posing as Unicorn" (2002 album 1957) BLOG  https://www.thehakereport.com/blog/2024/5/6/the-hake-report-mon-5-6-24 PODCAST / Substack  HAKE NEWS from JLP  https://www.thehakereport.com/jlp-news/2024/5/6/brown-eggs-no-healthier-require-more-feed-hake-news-mon-5-6-24 Hake is live M-F 9-11a PT (11-1CT/12-2ET) Call-in 1-888-775-3773 https://www.thehakereport.com/show VIDEO  YouTube  -  Rumble*  -  Facebook  -  X  -  BitChute  -  Odysee*  PODCAST  Substack  -  Apple  -  Spotify  -  Castbox  -  Podcast Addict  *SUPER CHAT on platforms* above or  BuyMeACoffee, etc.  SHOP  Spring  -  Cameo  |  All My Links  JLP Network:  JLP  -  Church  -  TFS  -  Nick  -  Joel   Get full access to HAKE at thehakereport.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to Day 2354 of Wisdom-Trek. Thank you for joining me. This is Guthrie Chamberlain, Your Guide to Wisdom Day 2354 – OUR LIVING HOPE – SMILING THROUGH SUFFERING 1 PETER 1:1-12 – Daily Wisdom Putnam Church Message – 04/07/2024 Our Living Hope – Smiling Through Suffering 1 Peter 1:1-12 Last week was Ressurection Sunday, and we considered the evidence of Thomas the Scientist. After his experiment on Jesus, John 20:28-29 says, “My Lord and my God!” Thomas exclaimed. Then Jesus told him, “You believe because you have seen me. Blessed are those who believe without seeing me.” Today, we begin an extended, systematic study of the letters of 1st and 2nd Peter. Our message today is “Smiling Through Suffering.” But before that, to set the stage for our extended study, I would like to step back to Resurrection Sunday and into the empty tomb with only Peter and John and provide a dramatic reenactment of their time together that faithful morning. Bursting into the darkness ahead of his younger companion, who had reached the tomb a few moments earlier, Peter's eyes needed to adjust to the darkness. It only took a glance for him to confirm Mary's report: Jesus' body was gone. But the situation was not as simple as a missing corpse. Instead of the dead body that had been placed in the tomb, Peter found the stained linen wrappings still lying on the slab and the facecloth rolled neatly and set aside. John's voice suddenly broke the silence, echoing off the stone walls. “He's ... he's risen!” “Shh!” Peter whispered, still thinking things through. He had made enough rash decisions to last a lifetime. He was not about to make another one. Somebody could have stolen the body. But who? None of the disciples; he knew that for sure. They had been hiding in a locked room since the crucifixion, fearing that they, too, would be arrested and executed like their Master. And it could not have been the Jewish authorities or the Romans. Of all people, they needed Jesus dead and buried. But who else would have snatched the body? And where would they have taken it? “He's risen!” John insisted. Peter motioned for him to be silent, then stroked his beard with a trembling hand. Even if somebody had taken the body, they had left the burial clothes! And they had even taken the time to fold the face cloth neatly. How preposterous! You don't just go trudging around Jerusalem with a naked, cold corpse. That wasn't kosher by any standard. Peter closed his eyes as Jesus' words passed through his mind. It was as if the Lord Himself privately whispered them to him again: “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift each of you like wheat. 32 But I have pleaded in prayer for you, Simon, that your faith should not fail. So when you have repented and turned to me again, strengthen your brothers.” (Luke 22:31-32). Tears welled up and overflowed as he opened his eyes and surveyed the empty tomb. John pressed forward, scanning the burial clothes and turning back to Peter with an expression somewhere between delight and terror: “Simon, listen to me ... He—has—risen. He—is—alive!" Nodding his head, Peter leaned against the tomb wall and said, “You're right, John. He has risen indeed!” At that moment, Peter felt as if a massive tombstone had rolled away from his heart and stale burial wrappings had...

Chapter 1 What's Nodding Off Book by Alice Gregory"Nodding Off" by Alice Gregory is a novel that explores the complexities of sleep and dreams through the interconnected stories of various characters. The book delves into the mysteries of the mind and the ways in which our dreams can both haunt and enlighten us. It is a thought-provoking and beautifully written exploration of the ways in which sleep can shape our lives.Chapter 2 Is Nodding Off Book A Good BookThe book "Nodding Off" by Alice Gregory has received mixed reviews from readers. Some have found it to be a compelling and unique exploration of sleep and dreaming, while others have struggled with the author's writing style and the depth of the content. Ultimately, whether or not "Nodding Off" is a good book will depend on your personal preferences and interests. It may be worth giving it a try if you are intrigued by the subject matter, but be prepared for a somewhat experimental approach to storytelling.Chapter 3 Nodding Off Book by Alice Gregory Summary"Nodding Off" by Alice Gregory is a book that explores the science and history of sleep, as well as the impact of technology and society on our sleeping patterns. Gregory delves into the reasons why humans need to sleep, the different stages of sleep, and the consequences of sleep deprivation. She also discusses the role of dreams and the importance of creating a sleep-friendly environment. Throughout the book, Gregory emphasizes the importance of prioritizing sleep for our physical and mental well-being. Overall, "Nodding Off" offers a comprehensive look at the fascinating world of sleep and the ways in which we can improve our sleep habits for a healthier life. Chapter 4 Nodding Off Book AuthorAlice Gregory released her book "Nodding Off: The Science of Sleep from Cradle to Grave" in 2018. Aside from "Nodding Off," she is also the author of the novel "Friendship" which was published in 2020. In terms of editions, "Nodding Off" is considered to be her most well-received book, receiving positive reviews for its informative and engaging exploration of the science of sleep.Chapter 5 Nodding Off Book Meaning & ThemeNodding Off Book Meaning"Nodding Off" by Alice Gregory explores the science and culture of sleep and dreams. The book delves into the importance of sleep for physical and mental health, as well as the ways in which sleep patterns can be disrupted by modern lifestyles. Gregory also discusses the significance of dreams and the ways in which they can provide insight into our subconscious thoughts and emotions. Overall, "Nodding Off" offers a comprehensive exploration of the mysteries and benefits of sleep and dreams.Nodding Off Book ThemeThe main theme of "Nodding Off" by Alice Gregory is the exploration of sleep and its importance in our physical and mental well-being. The book delves into the science of sleep, including its various stages and functions, as well as the impact of sleep deprivation on our health and daily functioning.Additionally, the book also touches on the cultural and societal attitudes towards sleep, including the pressures to prioritize productivity and work over rest and relaxation. Gregory highlights the importance of listening to our own bodies and prioritizing adequate rest in order to maintain a healthy and balanced life.Overall, the theme of "Nodding Off" emphasizes the importance of sleep as a vital aspect of our overall health and well-being, and encourages readers to prioritize rest and self-care in order to lead a fulfilling and healthy life.Chapter 6 Other Accessible Resources1. Author's website:...

The sound of the drill terrified five-year-old Sarah. She leaped out of the dentist’s chair and refused to get back in. Nodding understandingly, the dentist told her father, “Daddy, get into the chair.” Jason thought he was meant to show his daughter how easy it was. But then the dentist turned to the little girl and said, “Now, climb up and sit in Daddy’s lap.” With her father now cradling her in his reassuring arms, Sarah relaxed completely, and the dentist was able to continue. That day, Jason learned a great lesson about the comfort of the presence of his heavenly Father. “Sometimes, God [chooses not to] take over what we have to go through,” he said. “But God was showing me, ‘I will be there with you.’ ” Psalm 91 speaks of the comforting presence and power of God that gives us the strength to face our trials. Knowing that we can rest in His powerful arms gives us great assurance, as does His promise to those who love Him: “He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble” (v. 15). There are many unavoidable challenges and trials in life, and we will inevitably have to go through pain and suffering. But with God’s reassuring arms wrapped around us, we’ll be able to bear our crises and circumstances, and let Him strengthen our faith as we grow through them.

Nodding off to get...there.

**Breaking Ground as a First-Generation Trailblazer**  In this episode of SA Voices From The Field Dr. Jill Creighton had the chance to speak with Alejandra Campoverdi, a formidable force advocating for women's health and an inspiration for many first-generation college students. Her memoir, 'First Gen: A Memoir,' beautifully encapsulates the emotional complexities that accompany the breaking of generational barriers, a theme that resonates deeply with many of our podcast's listeners. Alejandra's narrative is both personal and universal, detailing her own struggle with panic attacks and other challenges as she navigated the social ladders of legacy-based institutions. Her experience in the White House, and the pivotal role mentors played in her journey, offers a powerful testament to the lasting impact of educators and advocates across different walks of life. **Legacy and the Emotional Rhyme of Generations** Alejandra poetically introduces the concept of 'generational rhyming,' drawing lines between the past and present experiences. By reflecting on the courage of women in her family—those who confidently stepped away from chaotic relationships while carrying the burden of pregnancy—Alejandra emphasizes the inheritance of resilience and the personal choice to either continue or modify the legacy we carry forward. **The Cultural Tapestry of Health and Sacrifice** This episode also delves into Alejandra's advocacy for women's health, illustrating the interweaving of cultural expectations and individual wellness. Her frank discussion on BRCA mutation and confronting a familial pattern of breast cancer underscores the critical necessity of breaking cycles, not only socially and economically but also health-wise. **Systemic Issues and the Imposter Experience** Alejandra's views on 'imposter syndrome' are particularly enlightening, challenging the notion that it stems solely from personal insecurity rather than also being rooted in systemic disparities. This perspective invites a broader conversation on the structural changes needed to support and validate the experiences of those breaking new ground. **Connecting with Alejandra Campoverdi** Listeners can reach out to Alejandra Campoverdi via her DMs on Instagram, LinkedIn, or her website. Her gracious acknowledgment of her mentors, including her former White House boss, and her thanks to the NASPA family and Dina from the First Gen Center, that manifests an ecosystem of support that many 'firsts' heavily rely on.    TRANSCRIPT Dr. Jill Creighton [00:00:01]: Welcome to student affairs voices from the field, the podcast where we share your student affairs stories from fresh perspectives to seasoned experts. This is season 10, continuing our season 9 theme of on transitions in student affairs. This podcast is brought to you by NASPA, and I'm doctor Jill Creighton. She, her, hers, your essay voices from the field host. Welcome back essay voices. It was amazing to run into so many of you at the annual conference, and thank you again for continuing to listen to us. Today, we're gonna be releasing the first of several annual conference episodes, and we were thrilled to sit down with the closing keynote speaker, Alejandra Campaverdi. Alejandra is a nationally recognized women's health advocate, best selling author, founder, producer, and former White House aide to President Obama. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:00:48]: Alejandra's memoir, First Gen: A Memoir, examines the often unacknowledged emotional tolls of being a trailblazer. A national bestseller, 1st Gen is the winner of the California Independent Booksellers Alliance Golden Poppy Martin Cruz Smith Award and long listed for the outstanding works of literature award for the 1st year experience. 1st Gen is also the 2024 Opportunity Matters book club selection for the Council For Opportunity in Education, a national book club for 1st generation and low income students at colleges and universities across the country. Previously, Alejandra served in the Obama White House as the 1st White House deputy director of Hispanic Media. She produced and appeared in the groundbreaking PBS documentary, Inheritance, and founded the Latinos and BRCA Awareness Initiative in partnership with Penn Medicine's Master Center for BRCA. Alejandra holds a master in public policy from Harvard University's Kennedy School of Government and graduated cum laude from USC. She currently serves on the boards of Harvard's Shorenstein Center on Media, Politics and Public Policy, and the California Community Foundation. I hope you enjoy our conversation. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:01:50]: We were able to have this one live in person, so you may notice some slight audio differences in quality. Please enjoy and we're also going to be bringing you couple more bonus episodes throughout the next couple of weeks. Alejandra, welcome to SA Voices. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:02:03]: Thank you so much for having me. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:02:05]: I am really excited to get to know you a little bit and we really appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to talk to SA Voices here in Seattle. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:02:12]: I know. It's fun to be in Seattle. Right? Dr. Jill Creighton [00:02:13]: Is this your first time? Alejandra Campoverdi [00:02:14]: No. I was actually here a few weeks ago for another conference, but I had so much fun eating my way through the city. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:02:20]: Oh, what was your favorite thing? Alejandra Campoverdi [00:02:22]: That was a lot. The crumpets over at the Pike Place Market, incredible. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:02:27]: Crumpets. Okay. That's a new one. Most of my friends say Top Pot Donuts is their their jam or, I haven't been to the crumpet spot. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:02:35]: This is my hometown so it's always fun for me to see people discover it through fresh eyes. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:02:39]: Nice. Well, you have to give us your tips then. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:02:42]: Really, it's just don't eat downtown. I think it's my biggest tip. Most of my friends and family enjoy restaurants kind of more out in the community. But we are glad to have you here as our closing keynote speaker for NASPA 2024 here in Seattle. On our theme of transitions, you were just an excellent guest to have to talk about all the transitions you've gone through in your life. Your book right now is 1st Gen, a memoir, and that has been just a really beautiful read. I've been able to take a look at least the first couple of chapters and and really kind of get to know you through that lens. But I'm wondering if you can tell us a little bit about your journey as you've written about it. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:03:17]: Well, thank you for reading it, Amy. I feel really honored to be invited to speak at NASPA. As I say in the book, the reason why I felt compelled to write it really was because, you know, as someone who was a Pell Grant recipient myself and grew up in a lot of pipeline programs and nonprofits, when I would go and speak to young people, especially students even before this book was even an idea in my mind, I noticed that there seemed to be a lot kind of hanging in the air. Some mixed emotions and almost like looks on folks' faces that I recognize on my own face at these kind of transitional achievement moments that should kind of be 1 dimensional but kind of weren't. And as I noticed that, I started kind of changing the way that I would speak and the kinds of stories I would share. And the more vulnerable I was about how it was harder than many times we're led on to believe in inspirational speeches, really helped crystallize for me how much of not only my own experience but a lot of our experiences have some shame around them that there are conflicting emotions that we don't always share even though they're so completely widespread. And a lot of it namely about the emotional toll of social mobility and the American dream as it's been presented to us. And, you know, in the book, I really talk about how it's for first and only. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:04:45]: I call us first and only because it isn't just this gatekeeper definition of who has a right to kinda like that first gen experience. I understand that in in academia and in different institutions, you need to have a definition of who qualifies and doesn't qualify. But for this emotional experience in the book, it's about being as inclusive as possible because this experience of cycle breaking and that emotional toll transcends race and gender and and so many different experiences. So that was a lens that I discussed this with, and I really use my own story growing up, you know, as the daughter of a single mom who had immigrated from Mexico a few years before I was born to kind of be the companion of walking through a lot of these different dynamics. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:05:33]: You talk about generational rhyming in your book as part of that transition story. Can you talk to us about what you mean by that? Alejandra Campoverdi [00:05:39]: Well, as a part of this book, I named something called the trailblazer tool. And I don't name that from a position of authority as someone who is a trauma specialist or an academic or a specialist in psychology or so on. The reason why I do that is because as I mentioned, you can't heal from that which you don't name. Mhmm. And so how do we create space for this holistic view that doesn't only include imposter syndrome but includes the way that being a cycle breaker first and only moves throughout our entire life even before we get to school and for many, many years after. You know, once by the time you're a 1st gen student, you've been 1st gen already many times over and you'll continue to be 1st gen. And so to that point, how is it that this even began pre birth? When you're thinking about generational inheritance and emotional inheritances, when you're looking for those answers, they say history doesn't repeat itself, but it often rhymes. Mhmm. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:06:35]: Well, what is the rhyme that is coming from our family? And they're not just negative. Many are positive. It's not just about generational trauma. It's about emotional inheritances and those I call them invisible inheritances. Many times they're intertwined. Many times, you know, you're looking at the fact in my instance, I have a great grandmother and a mother who both left very chaotic borderline abusive relationships while they were pregnant. Mhmm. Now that's not an inheritance that I would wanna continue. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:07:06]: Yet if you say it a little differently, I have 2 women in my family that left these relationships while they were pregnant. I mean, think of the strength and fortitude it takes to do something like that. So, I mean, I'm proud to be a a beneficiary of that inheritance. And then the third part is the inheritances that we choose to perpetuate as our own future ancestors right now. You know, every day, we have a choice to become a better ancestor. Mhmm. So those are the rhymes that not only we're coming into these lives with, but the rhymes that we're choosing to continue and be intentional about and maybe tweak a little bit. That intentionality is a lot of the end game because I don't have all the answers and this book doesn't pretend like it has all the answers. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:07:51]: But it's about validating and acknowledging a lot of what as first and only is we almost feel like we don't know have the privilege too many times. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:07:58]: I'm wondering if you can talk to us a bit about being a first generation student who entered collegiate spaces that are really legacy based institutions where maybe you're entering with classmates who have multiple generations of people who went to those institutions who know how they work, who understand the nuance and the subtleties of social culture and enter with a lot more social capital on how to engage in those worlds and how you found yourself evolving into those spaces and ultimately thriving in them. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:08:25]: Well, just how Invisible Inheritance is kind of where we start, you know, a couple steps forward is what I call chutes and social ladders. And I don't know if you remember the board game. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Chutes and Ladders. And the reason why I named it that was because that's what it kind of felt like to me. You know, you land on the right spot. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:08:44]: You do everything just right and you shoot into this different social class, into this different just like societal plane that feels so foreign, yet if you've messed up, God forbid don't do it just perfectly, you can backslide completely out of it. Right? Yeah. Without warning sometimes. Absolutely. And it feels really precarious. And to me, that made sense to me as a way to look at it. In the book, I talk about the familial chaos that I was in, this kind of pressure cooker, as well as in the romantic relationship that I highlight in the book. That's also something else that was, you know, leading to a lot of personal angst. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:09:25]: Mhmm. Yet the way that I was dealing with that was in a lot of ways of trying to kind of stabilize and have some semblance of control in my life by overachieving. Mhmm. You know, how that overachieving and sometimes that perfectionism can be as well as ambition, but can also be a coping mechanism for trauma. Right? And so I was making myself a really good college applicant at the same time as I was really struggling with a lot of issues around this kind of dynamics in my home and my relationships. So by the time I get to USC, it was one blurry summer apart from a very different kind of cultural experience where if anything, I was teased for, quote, acting white because I would get good grades. But then you get to college, and I remember by then, I was already struggling very much with panic attacks and panic disorder, and I had my mom be on campus with me. I grew up under 20 miles from USC's campus but had never visited. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:10:27]: You know, you don't visit colleges. Who does that? Like, what is that? So my mom is there with me pushing this running stroller around with my little sister, and I just didn't want her to be out of my sight because I felt so much pressure. Like, a lot of these students I know. I hear from them. I'm traveling around the country right now talking to them. So much pressure that not only did I have to do this to kind of this was my chance to, you know, break that cycle of poverty, but this was also my chance to help my mom, to help my family. You know, it was this kinda like double layer of stress. And my mom went to the parent orientation and I'm sitting there and feeling that, and all of a sudden, my ears start ringing. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:11:05]: Everything starts getting spinny, and I run out of Boulevard Auditorium in USC and pass out in the middle of campus. So when I came to, somebody had gone to get my mom, and we went to the health center, and then they gave me a prescription and, you know, sent me on my way. And I remember sitting on a bench with her and thinking, oh my god. Am I gonna be able to do this? I worked so hard to be able to get there, and it felt like everything was within grasp that I had dreamed of, that we had dreamed of. But I didn't know if I could physically do it because all of these experiences and these emotional experiences that we're talking about had started catching up with me. Mhmm. You know, and that's that's not something that's unique to me. Right? Because there's a saying I point to in the book, when you're skating over thin ice, your speed is your safety. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:11:52]: Mhmm. And many times that's what it feels like when you're cycle breaking and you're kind of trying to adjust to these new kinda stratosphere jumps, you don't have time to really process what's happening. You're just kind of surviving and morphing and adapting however you can. And there was a lot that was coming up for me at that time. I was fortunate that, you know, my mom was able to help me kind of navigate a little bit but in a lot of ways I ended up experiencing a whole another big jump that was difficult to recalibrate. At the time, my mom, not knowing any better, encouraged me to get involved with the Greek system. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:12:30]: Okay. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:12:30]: And we can imagine at that time, USC in the late nineties, early 2000, you know, that was like taking me to the most extreme example of kind of world jumping and recalibrating and understanding what that meant for my Latinidad and how it expressed itself on campus. How I was able to show up and fit into a system that had experiences that were beyond my comprehension and how it is that I was able to do that and manage all that while at the same time trying to keep up with grades. And it it was a lot. And I go into this a lot deeper in the book about what that felt like, but I definitely don't. And I'm not saying now nor do I say in the book that I figured it all out. Mhmm. The point was that I was white knuckling it. The point was that I was surviving in that space in those spaces as best I could, but not really understanding a lot of the dynamics that they weren't personal to me. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:13:32]: Like many women of color who are leading in new spaces, you've had transitions in this academic space, you've had transitions with health, and you've had transitions in career. So I wanna talk a little bit about your transitions in health because you're well known as a women's health advocate. When you were going through your own health transitions, how did you balance that with everything else that was going on in the world? Alejandra Campoverdi [00:13:53]: Well, I didn't know that I because I'm a BRCA mutation carrier, hereditary cancer in my family, but I didn't know that until I was in my thirties. So what I did know was that women in my family tended to all get breast cancer. And until my mom's generation, they would pass away from breast cancer. So it was especially when my mom was diagnosed and I was in my early twenties, that was a really pivotal time as far as just graduating from school and trying to figure out, I call it the lonely hustle, how to kind of go after my dreams without any safety net. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:14:28]: Mhmm. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:14:28]: When my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, I realized I didn't really have the privilege to do that. I had a little sister that I assumed I was gonna be a single mom too. And so I went home to help take care of my mom during that time and, you know, slept on the air mattress in her living room. And as far as I was concerned, that was it. Your parents, a lot of times, you feel like they sacrifice so much for you to have these opportunities and that feels especially in the dynamics and the cultural dynamics in a lot of our communities that that's a collectivist mindset about what it means when you drop everything to be able to take care of the family unit. And so I didn't realize back then that that was something that I was also going to have to face. Mhmm. But breast cancer has been an ongoing drumbeat throughout my entire life. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:15:17]: You know, I don't go into my own journey with breast cancer in this book because this book ends before that happens. But, you know, when you're thinking about cycle breaking even with our own bodies, you know, how it is we disrupt these cycles in our families and the choice that I made to have preventative surgery at the time, not knowing that when it was after the fact of the surgery, we would discover in retrospect that actually I did have an active breast cancer already developing, which validated that choice. But all that to say is our health is another way that we're able to try to break some of these cycles. And I always say, you know, like one of the the biggest cycles that we can break and we don't always think about is to give ourselves the privilege of rest and balance and that kind of wellness on every different level because we can break cycles of poverty. We can be the first to go to college. We can be the first to have a job or buy a house or so on. But unless we do some of this inner work, one of the biggest cycles that can lead to illness in our body but for sure in our minds and our emotional health is not gonna get broken.  Dr. Jill Creighton [00:16:32]: When you think about cycle break in your own life, what advice do you give to others on how they can also engage in that work? Alejandra Campoverdi [00:16:36]: I think that the first step is to be conscious of it, to acknowledge it. And that's the energy that this book is written in for us to know ourselves and for us to know each other and for us to know that we're not alone in these experiences because a lot of it feels so isolating and a lot of it feels just really personal. And if I I've learned anything I mean, I've been to dozens of colleges now across the country. I've been really blessed to speak to so many educators as well. And it's the same experience of nodding everywhere that I go. Mhmm. Nodding in tears and acknowledgement. And sometimes people will raise their hands and I remember I was speaking in Miami, and this gentleman raised his hand. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:17:17]: He said, how do you deal with, like, the loneliness? And he started crying. And I looked out at the crowd, and I and I tell you, there were so many people crying. And I told them, I said, well, take a look around. Do you feel alone? Look at all these people that that are feeling the same thing you're feeling. And that's what the energy that this book is hopefully calling us to, which is to take a look around and acknowledge all the nodding heads. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:17:45]: I think one of the most powerful things you do in this book is give voice to a common experience that a lot of people are afraid to talk about or afraid to say out loud because we live in a capitalist society. We're fearful of being perceived as, you know, not always out in front of things sometimes. So I really appreciate that you're naming a lot of this, and it's clearly resonating with audiences around the country, and I'm sure will be very resonant for our NASPA members here, especially for our professionals who are 1st and onlys or are there 1st gen in their family to attain a university degree and then likely an advanced degree, and now we're all working in this field where a lot of people don't really understand our work. It's kind of an ongoing joke in student affairs that even our own parents don't understand what we do on a daily basis. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:18:26]: And I write about that in the book that that's a loneliness inducing experience as as well that I write about when you go home. And I mean, I would come home from the White House and I wouldn't get questions about my work, and that's at a neutral level. Then there's the hands of the students where they raise their hands and say, I'm dissuaded from doing these things. They're told, like, why are you doing this? Why don't you get a more job where you make more money? Why would you study abroad? That's a waste of your time. Almost kind of getting this negative messaging. But to your point, that's why I feel so honored to be speaking here at NASPA because on so many different levels, a, you guys are the ones on the ground. You guys are the ones on the ground with these students every day working so hard and doing so much to support the leaders of the future. And also because I see very clearly how many of the educators I'm speaking to are literally these students who also had the same experience. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:19:23]: You know, we get called to the work that we do, whether it's writing books or being an educator because of something usually very personal. We're called to something because of the empathy many times that we have for experiences. And like I said earlier, the book is written not just about that part of the student experience. There's many many chapters about what happens when you're on the other side of the sausage maker, which is all of us. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:19:49]: Mhmm. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:19:50]: And you're gonna spit out the other side and you're like, okay, woah, what happened? Because there is a point where you're the arc of the first gen experience kind of concludes. That doesn't mean that you don't have ambitions for the future and you don't have all these other things you wanna accomplish, but that initial kind of ascension into breaking out of certain cycles, same things that originally was driving me? Are they the same things or have they shifted? And if they've shifted, then how is it that I show up differently? You also name feelings of imposter syndrome in Dr. Jill Creighton [00:20:31]: the book, especially when you're first invited into the White House spaces and during your process of getting top secret security clearance and all of those things. How did you work through those feelings of imposter syndrome even though you're sitting in some of the most powerful spaces in the world at that point in time and knowing that so many of our listeners are facing impostor syndrome in their own careers even though, you know, we're all qualified to be in the spaces we're in? Alejandra Campoverdi [00:20:53]: Well, one of the things that I really make a point to highlight in the book is I actually really have a problem with the idea of impostor syndrome as it was presented to me. I'll make it personal, as I've seen it be presented also in general, is the idea that it really is about this crisis of confidence singularly and not about the second part of it, the other side of the coin, which is no matter how confident we are, how it is that the way that we show up or we're received in these spaces and in these kind of constructs that is reflected back to us sometimes that we don't belong in ways that are subtle and not so subtle at times. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:21:29]: I think imposter syndrome syndrome's a system issue personally. Right? It's 2 ways. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:21:34]: Exactly. I mean, it's 2 ways. We we still have to acknowledge our contributions and show up in that space and there's systemic issues at play too. And so that's the lens through which I talk about it at that time at the White House and not just at the White House, but that nuance, I think, is helpful because I know when I used to blame myself for feeling a lack of confidence, it's not fair on top of everything else. It's also we're pointing the arrow directly back at students to just feel more confident and not acknowledging the dynamics with which they're operating. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:22:14]: Is there anything else you want our NASPA membership to hear from you today? Just that Alejandra Campoverdi [00:22:18]: I had several inflection points that I talk about in the book that really had to do with either an educator or a mentor, someone in a position of power saying something, doing something that completely changed my life. And I wasn't someone who had mentors that would follow my life for decades. You know, it was these angels that sometimes would step in and sometimes would derail, you know. Sometimes people help you in ways that are positive and negative to kinda get you back on track. Mhmm. But the point is that these people in my life and certain things they said and didn't encourage me to do changed everything. And so I like I said, my message is gratitude to this community for being the in the spaces between the bullet points because that's what I call it in the book. That's what the book is. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:23:08]: I wanted to write something that didn't just look at the bullet points on my resume or in my bio the same way that all of us have our schools and our achievements and our jobs, but that's not where the real story lies. It's really in the spaces between those bullet points and that's where you guys are. That's where the whole story goes one way or another. And so it's just expressing my gratitude for the work that you do and for the way that you're changing lives every day. Before we go to our break, I Dr. Jill Creighton [00:23:37]: would be remiss if I didn't ask how cool is it to be on Air Force Alejandra Campoverdi [00:23:40]: There's nothing cooler. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:23:43]: It's time to take a quick break and toss it over to producer Chris to learn what's going on in the NASPA world. Dr. Christopher Lewis [00:23:49]: Thanks so much, Jill. Really excited to be back in the NASPA world. And today, I am really excited to be able to share some amazing news. If you missed it, an email was sent out after the annual conference that NASPA has selected a new president. We are thrilled to share with you that the outcome of the national search of the NASPA president has concluded. And after a thoughtful and deliberate process spanning the past 6 months, the NASPA board of directors have selected Dr. Amelia Parnell as the next President of NASPA. You may know Amelia the from her work as vice president for research and policy at NASPA, a position that she's held since 2015. In this role, she has selected the association's research policy and publications portfolio, providing critical thought and support to the membership. She oversees large scale projects, represents NASPA globally, is speaking engagements in the media, and leads analysis of applicable federal and state legislation and regulatory developments. Dr. Christopher Lewis [00:24:53]: Over the past 8 years, Amelia has secured over $22,000,000 in philanthropic funding, represented NASPA through service to over 20 organizations, including the US Department of Education, and served as the chair of the governing board for the Higher Ed Equity Network and Chair of the Finance and Investment Committee for the EDUCAUSE Board of Directors. Additionally, she has led an 18 month examination of the future of student affairs, overseeing a large volunteer and staff task force and engaging in listening sessions with NASPA members. Prior to NASPA, Amelia served as Director of Research Initiatives at the Association For Institutional Research and Director of National Survey Research for the Association For Institutional Research. From 2005 to 2012, she served as education policy analyst for the Florida Legislature. Amelia has authored numerous scholarly articles and has been regularly quoted in national and trade publications. She is author of the recent book, You Are a Data Person, Strategies for Using Analytics on Campus, which has sold over 3,000 copies to date and is widely used by institutions across the country. She is also a faculty member for the Institute on ePortfolios of the American Association of Colleges and Universities. Amelia holds a BS and MBA in Business Administration from Florida A&M University and a PhD in Higher Education from Florida State University. Dr. Christopher Lewis [00:26:21]: Beyond Amelia's credentials and organizational knowledge, the search committee and the board were most impressed by her vision for continuing to position NASPA as an indispensable organization serving the student affairs profession and higher education more broadly. Her collaborative leadership style combined with her extensive experience and genuine commitment to student success set her apart in a strong and diverse field of applicants for the position. Emilia will begin her tenure as president on July 1, 2024, at which time Kevin Kruger will become president emeritus. As we continue to move toward this next chapter in NASPA's story, we wanna thank the NASPA president search committee and especially the co chairs, Betty Simmons, retired vice president of student development enrollment management at County College of Morris and Pat Whiteley, senior vice president for student affairs and alumni engagement at the University of Miami. These volunteers gave so much of their time to ensure that the next leader of NASPA would be someone who can build on the successes of the last 12 years and position the organization to help its members face the challenges that we know lie ahead. In selecting Amelia, they have done exactly that. We would also like to extend our thanks to the team at Korn Kari for their counsel and support in this search. Our largest congratulations go out to doctor Amelia Parnell, past guest of the show, and we will be having her in the future to talk about that vision for NASPA. Dr. Christopher Lewis [00:27:47]: Every week, we're going to be sharing some amazing things that are happening within the association. So we are going to be able to try and keep you up to date on everything that's happening and allow for you to be able to get involved in different ways, because the association is as strong as its members. And for all of us, we have to find our place within the association, whether it be getting involved with a knowledge community, giving back within one of the the centers or the divisions of the association. And as you're doing that, it's important to be able to identify for yourself where do you fit? Where do you wanna give back? Each week, we're hoping that we will share some things that might encourage you, might allow for you to be able to get some ideas that will provide you with an opportunity to be able to say, Hey, I see myself in that knowledge community. I see myself doing something like that. Or encourage you in other ways that allow for you to be able to think beyond what's available right now, to offer other things to the association, to bring your gifts, your talents to the association and to all the members within the association. Because through doing that, all of us are stronger and the association is better. Tune in again next week as we find out more about what is happening in NASPA. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:29:12]: Chris, thank you so much for this week's edition of NASPA World. We always appreciate you keeping us updated on what's going around in and around NASPA. And, Alejandra, we have our lightning round questions now. I've got 7 questions for you in about 90 seconds. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:29:26]: Okay. Let's go. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:29:27]: Alright. Question number 1. Since you are a conference keynote speaker, if you got to choose your entrance music, what would it be? Alejandra Campoverdi [00:29:33]: Well, I don't know if it's a known fact but First Gen has a playlist cause each chapter title is a song. So I'm gonna pick one of the songs off of the playlist which is Fast Car, Tracy Chapman version though. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:29:46]: Oh, she just performed recently. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:29:47]: Oh, so good. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:29:47]: Love her. So good. I'm gonna sidetrack us and say where can people find your playlist? Alejandra Campoverdi [00:29:51]: It's on Spotify and in the back of the book, there's a link. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:29:54]: Alright. Number 2, when you were 5 years old, what did you wanna be when you grew up? Alejandra Campoverdi [00:29:58]: When I was 5 years old, I wanted to be Cinderella. I actually write about that in the book. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:30:05]: Number 3, who's your most influential professional mentor? Alejandra Campoverdi [00:30:08]: My most influential professional mentor was my boss at the White House for a lot of reasons and I I actually there's a whole scene in the book about the way she modeled to me what true leadership was like and really had the power to be able to either support me or not support me in a very pivotal moment at the beginning of the book. And she, to this day, is somebody who's still in my life and threw me a book party when the book came out, which meant a lot. So I would have to say her. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:30:38]: Number 4, your essential higher education read. I'd be remiss Alejandra Campoverdi [00:30:41]: if I didn't say 1st gen. Come on. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:30:43]: Number 5, the best TV show you binged during the pandemic. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:30:47]: I watched Breaking Bad again. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:30:48]: Number 6, the podcast you've spent the most hours listening to in Alejandra Campoverdi [00:30:51]: the last year. So because I actually, over the past year, have been so crazy promoting the book. I haven't listened to a lot of podcast. I'm gonna give a shout out to this one. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:31:00]: Thank you. Alejandra Campoverdi [00:31:02]: So SA Voices from the Field. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:31:04]: And finally, any shout outs you'd like to give personal or professional? I just like to Alejandra Campoverdi [00:31:08]: thank the NASPA family for welcoming me and of course to Dina over at the First Gen Center. I've had such an incredible experience getting to know folks in this world and a lot of the folks in student affairs and 1st gen programs. And so shout out to everyone here and the work that they're doing and to you for having me. I appreciate it. Again, the Dr. Jill Creighton [00:31:28]: book is First Gen, a memoir by Alejandra Campoverdi. You can pick it up in the NASPA bookstore or wherever you buy books. Now if folks would like to book you for a speaking tour on their campus or reach you otherwise, how can they find you? Well, Alejandra Campoverdi [00:31:40]: I'm super in my DMs. So you could DM me on Instagram or send me a LinkedIn message or on my website. There's an email that you can also reach out to me there. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:31:50]: And what's your website? Alejandra Campoverdi [00:31:51]: Alejandracampoverdi.com. Thank you Dr. Jill Creighton [00:31:54]: so much, for sharing your voice with us today. Thank you. This has been an episode of Student Affairs Voices from the Field, a podcast brought to you by NASPA. This show continues to be possible because you choose to listen to us. We are so grateful for your subscriptions and your downloads and your engagement with the content. If you'd like to reach the show, please email us at sa voices at nasa dotorg or find me on LinkedIn by searching for doctor Jill L. Creighton. We always welcome your feedback and your topic and guest suggestions. Dr. Jill Creighton [00:32:26]: We'd love it if you take a moment to tell a colleague about the show and give us a 5 star rating on Apple Podcasts or wherever you're listening now. It really does help other student affairs professionals find the show and helps raise the show's profile within the larger podcasting community. This episode was produced and hosted by doctor Jill Creighton, that's me, produced and audio engineered by doctor Chris Lewis. Special thanks to the University of Michigan Flint for your support as we create this project. Catch you next time.

We take you on a journey through the innovators and pioneers who put Black beauty on the map. Nodding at the past, we'll introduce some new engineers that have taken over the industry (like RiRi).See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

BestPodcastintheMetaverse.com Canary Cry News Talk #695 12.06.2023 - Recorded Live to 1s and 0s EXPLOSIONISM | Aliens in the Military, Prep Z, Home Blasts Rising, Nephilim Antarctica  Deconstructing Corporate Mainstream Media News from a Biblical Worldview Declaring Jesus as Lord amidst the Fifth Generation War! The Show Operates on the Value 4 Value Model: http://CanaryCry.Support      Join the Supply Drop: https://CanaryCrySupplyDrop.com                                  Submit Articles: https://CanaryCry.Report                           Submit Art: https://CanaryCry.Art     Join the T-Shirt Council: https://CanaryCryTShirtCouncil.com Resource: Index of MSM Ownership (Harvard.edu) Resource: Aliens Demons Doc (feat. Dr. Heiser, Unseen Realm) Tree of Links: https://CanaryCry.Party   This Episode was Produced By: Executive Producers Sir LX Protocol V2 Knight of the Berrean Protocol***   Producers of Treasure Smith P Gregory G Warriorchickjann Julie S Emily H Sluginator Carah W Guy L Malik W Dame Gail Canary Whisperer and Lady of X's and O's Lindsey B PrgrssNtPrfctn Veronica D  Travis H DrWhoDunDat Sir Morv Knight of the Burning Chariots Sir Scott Knight of Truth Sir Casey the Shield Knight   Speakpipe SGLD, Nomenprunte, Anonymous   CanaryCry.ART Submissions JonathanF Marius and BDubz Sir Dove Knight of Rusbeltia Pizza Rat Sir Darrin Knight of the Hungry Panda's Kalub   MICROFICTION Stephen S - In the recent BuyMyTek  marketing meeting,  “Boss, Hooters has shutdown the product test of the robotic waitresses in their restaurants.”  Lone Scum lamented, “Too bad, I was certain the extra padding and lipstick was going to take it over the top.”   JOLMS - A beam hits her window. A slight crack slithers from the impact site. Sucking out the air with a hiss. An overhead HUD rings out multiple integrity breaches. Fuel, oxygen, shields. Nodding them away dismissively she looks ahead to an opening into part of the Comms central's docking station and maneuvers cleanly into it. The two other ships split up in response, attempting a pincer on both sides of the chunk.    CLIP PRODUCER Emsworth, FaeLivrin, Joelms, Laura   TIMESTAPERS Jade Bouncerson, Morgan E   CanaryCry.Report Submissions JAM   REMINDERS Clankoniphius   SHOW NOTES/TIMESTAMPS Podcast = T - 3:25 PreShow Prayer: Travis    3:25 V / 0:00 P          HELLO, RUN DOWN 6:25 V / 3:00 P   ARMAGEDDON/ALIENS 8:00 V / 4:35 P Nearly 80 service members suspected of advocating overthrow US gov, DOD (Stars & Stripes) Dick Durbin Thinks There's an Easy Solution to the Military's Recruitment Problem (TownHall)   DAY JINGLE/V4V/EXEC./supply 27:18 V / 23:53 P   FLIPPY 47:14 V / 43:49 P The first humanoid robot factory is about to open (AXIOS)   SUS/BOOM 54:23 V / 50:58 P →Clip: 1 dead in reported South St. Paul home explosion (KARE 11) nov 30th →Clip: Fatal home explosion in New Gloucester baffles some heating experts (13 WGME) dec 3 Clip: *Man who lived at Virginia home that exploded is presumed dead, police say (NBC) dec 5   BEAST SYSTEM/POLYTICKS 1:14:30 V / 1:11:05 P Why Younger Americans stockpiling supplies ahead of 24' election: ‘Society unraveling' (NY Post)   SPEAKPIPE/TALENT/TIME 1:33:03 V / 1:29:38 P   NEPHILIM/ANTARCTICA  —> next episode Remains of Giants Found 400 feet underwater coast of antarctica, TikTok viral video claims (hitc)   V4V/TIME 2:00:55 V / 1:57:30 P END