Podcasts about novels

Jayda Justus of The History Mom recommends books for gift giving this holiday. Favorite Fiction: ●      Nostalgic reading - The Star of Camp Greene by Joy Callaway ●      Old favorites made new - The Gatsby Gambit by Claire Anderson Wheeler, The Worlds of Jane Austen: The Influences and Inspiration Behind the Novels by Helena Kelly, and Jane Austen's Fashion Bible by Ros Ballaster ●      Old favorite/new favorite pairing - Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell and The Jackal's Mistress by Chris Bohjalian. ●      Vacation reading - The Lost Baker of Vienna by Sharon Kurtzman  ●      Sweet reads - Katherine Reay, Kristy Cambron, Sarah Sundin, and Laura Frantz  ●      Entertaining reads - Destiny of the Republic by Candace Millard   250th for America: ●      For guys: fiction - Jeff Shaara and John Jakes, nonfiction - Rick Atkinson and Nathaniel Philbreck  ●      For women: fiction - King's Mountain by Sharyn McCrumb, My Dear Hamilton by Stephanie Dray and Laura Kamoie, and Answering Liberty's Call by Tracy Lawson. Nonfiction - Founding Mothers by Cokie Roberts ●      Middle grade: Susanna's Midnight Ride by Libby McNamee   First Lady history: ●      Official White House China by William G. Allman ●      Jackie Kennedy: Jackie by Dawn Tripp and And They Called it Camelot by Stephanie Marie Thornton (fiction), and Designing Camelot by the White House Historical Society (nonfiction)   Royals watchers: Nonfiction - Sally Bedell Smith has written many biographies of the Royal family and The Queen: The Life and Times of Elizabeth II by Catherine Ryan Fiction - Christmas with the Queen by Hazel Gaynor and Heather Webb, The Gown and Coronation Year by Jennifer Robson, and The Queen's Faithful Companion by Eliza Knight   Christmas Books: O. Henry for the Holidays by O. Henry   Cookbooks: The Southern Kitchen by Ivy Odom The Pioneer Woman Cooks―The Essential Recipes: 120 Greatest Hits, New Twists, and Perfected Classics by Ree Drummond Sign up for my literary salon. Jayda can be found on ⁠her website⁠ and ⁠Instagram⁠. Want to know which new titles are publishing in January - May of 2026? Check out our fifth ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Literary Lookbook⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠which contains a comprehensive but not exhaustive list all in one place so you can plan ahead, and we color-code by genre in this one! Looking for something new to read? Here is my monthly ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Buzz Reads⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ column with five new recommendations each month. Link to my article about ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Best Books of 2025⁠.     Connect with me on ⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠Facebook⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠YouTube⁠⁠⁠⁠, and ⁠⁠⁠⁠Threads⁠⁠⁠⁠.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Runways: Part 3 A Mountaintop Experience By m_storyman_x – listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. "So where are we headed?" the supermodel asked as we walked across the grassy yard of the cabin towards the tree line. "Someplace special," was all I answered, as I aimed us for the small trail that looked like it led around the lake. The hike wasn't long, only about a half an hour, but it was up hill all the way. We finally broke free of the pines at the base of a barren rocky hillside. I held a hand out for her. "Let me help you here. I don't want you to fall." "Okay, but this hike is getting me too damned hot." she answered. She pulled her gauze white blouse over her head and tied it around her slender waist. Then taking my hand and letting me help her up the rock strewn hillside. I had a hard time not paying attention to the way her tits swung and bounced with each step, turning my cock once again rock hard before we had made it even a portion of the way up the hill, on my father’s mountaintop land. But we continued climbing, little trickles of sweat running down her naked top, down between and around her breasts as we climbed. She was clearly not used to this kind of effort, but I had to admit, for a change she made no complaint. "Here we are." I said as I let go of her hand and stood on the top of the rocky hill, able to look all the way around us. "This is the top of the mountain. Highest point around. Well except for those peaks over there. But they're way too steep to climb without special gear. This is the top of what the locals call baldy. "It's beautiful! You can see for miles," she said, moving slowly around me, looking in every direction at the land laid out far below us. "It's like being on an airplane without the airplane!" "Yeah. Sorta is, isn't it? Ready for some lunch?" "I am!" She said as she came over and sat down next to me on the rock. I dug in the bag and pulled out sandwiches and bottles of water. "That's yours," she said, pointing to the one made on rye. "I think I heard someplace you liked rye bread." "I do actually. Thank you!" I answered, smiling at her and taking the sandwich from her. "You know. I think this is the nicest you've been to me since I've known you." "Thank you. Self-preservation I guess. I don't want to get thrown in that damn lake again," she said with a giggle. "Well, I haven't seen any reason to do it again, so...mission accomplished." "Adam," she said quietly. "Yeah?" "I know you don't particularly like me. But I want to thank you for bringing me up here." "Aw hell. I don't dislike you. I just didn't expect you to be quite so..." "Bitchy?" She finished for me. "Yeah, bitchy." I agreed. "When you relax and try to be a normal person you can be quite... Not sure what word to use there." "Captivating... alluring... sexy...enticing?" She suggested, each time getting a shake of my head. "Pleasant." "Pleasant?" she asked curiously. "Uh huh. Pleasant.” I elaborated. “Pleasant to look at, pleasant to be around, pleasant to talk to. Pleasant." "Hmm, I would have thought your description would be more sexual than that. Most guys are." "I'll admit you're hot, but well, the idea of sex isn't exactly the first thing I'd say I think about when I see you." "That hardon you had while we were cleaning fish didn't say you weren't thinking about sex. And the hardon you have now doesn't say you aren't interested in sex." "Are you enticing, sexually? Of course you are. That's why you get paid what you do. Guys look at you and they wanna fuck you." I answered. "But you don't? Come on. With that hardon?" "Okay. I'll admit it. My body is interested in exploring your dark damp spaces. But to be honest, I'm actually just enjoying being able to share something like this view with you as a regular person, not a multi-million dollar super model." "If I was a regular person, would you want to fuck me?" "God what is it with you and fuck? Do you know any other way to say it?” I asked, looking into her eyes. “ Fucking is what you do with someone you don't care about." "So what do you want me to call it?" "Have sex, make love. Either work, if you care about a person. If not, I suppose fucking is as good a word as any to say it." Kim suddenly stood up and undid the front of her shorts. She pushed them down her legs and stepped out of them so she was naked except for her shoes. "What are you doing?" I asked as she leaned down and started undoing the front of my shorts. "Getting you naked," she said as if that were the most natural thing in the world to do at that moment. "Why?" I asked, reaching for her hand to stop her. "For the simple reason that you don't want to fuck me." "So, you want to get me naked why then?" She let go of my pants and stood over me, straightening up and looking around. "Actually, I thought you might want to just lay here in the sun naked with me. Because we can. We have the luxury of wonderful privacy, thanks to your family’s wonderful cabin and land. You don't have to though. I understand," she said, stepping across me and sitting on the rock again. She lay back and closed her eyes, letting her body soak in the sun on her front and heat from the rock on her back side. “This nudity is awesome! Now I think I understand the naturalists!” I looked at her for long seconds, trying to understand her. I stood up next to her and pushed my shorts off, freeing my rock hard cock to stick out in the sunshine. I skimmed off my t-shirt and dropped it next to my shorts and then lay down next to her in the sun. I lost track of how long we lay there, the sun baking the two of us. I started to think that maybe I'd get a good burn laying here too long and was about to suggest that we head back down when I felt her hand find mine. She stroked the back of my hand with her fingers, gently teasing her finger tips and nails on my skin. I lay there for long minutes as she stroked my hand before she wrapped her fingers around my hand and drew it up off the rock to her body, placing it gently on her hip, moving her fingers from around it back to the back of my hand again, stroking my hand as my palm and fingers lay on her bare skin. I really didn't know what she expected or wanted, and I really didn't want to ruin the surprisingly pleasant mood she had been in. She gently used her fingers to coax my hand more onto her body, working it closer to her bare mound until she had coaxed my finger to rest on the firm hump only inches from her pussy. "Would you like to touch me?" She asked softly. "Do you want me to?" "I wouldn't mind if you did," she said a little breathlessly, her hand leaving mine and reaching across to gently rest on me, her finger tips brushing my long since softened cock. "Kim. Are you horny?" I whispered. "Yes," she whispered back. "I really want to come but i want you to do it." "Why?" "Do I need a reason?" "No, but I do." I answered her. "What if I can't explain it?" "When you can, tell me." I whispered, starting to draw my hand away from her. "No! Please!" She practically begged, grabbing my hand with her other hand. She held my hand and pulled it down toward the juncture of her legs, spreading her legs and moving one across mine to give my hand access to her pussy. "Please," She whispered. I nodded, as much to myself as to her, and gently let my fingers stroke her surprisingly wet pussy lips. I felt her wetness as I dipped one finger between her lips, feeling her slick hot juices. She moaned softly, her fingers now stroking along my hardening cock, teasing along its length, concentrating on and around my head as my fingers gently stroked up and down her lips. I let my finger tease just into the entrance to her tunnel and then up to her clit, her hips trying to lift off the rocks toward my fingers with each stroke. "Do you like touching me?" She whispered breathlessly as her hand wrapped around my hard cock, giving it a gentle squeeze. "So you like me touching you?" "Uh huh." I answered honestly. "I'm glad. I like how you feel too," she said softly. I concentrated on her clit, still sliding my finger down to her tunnel entrance and back again, but spending longer and longer each trip circling and teasing her clit, her hips lifting and rocking, her body wiggling and writhing on the rocks as my fingers drove her body closer and closer to climax. "Oh gawd, Adam. You're going to make me come!" She moaned loudly. "You're going to make me come." While I was stroking her pussy she was busy stroking my cock, her hand moving slowly up and down my shaft, sliding all the way up to my head and over it, pushing my under used cock closer to shooting as well. "Shit. I'm going to come." I groaned, trying to hold back while I concentrated on her clit. "Do it!" She moaned loudly. "Let me make you come too! Oh shit I'm so close. So close." "Oh Fuck!" I grunted loudly as my orgasm hit, my hips bucking up off the rocks and shooting a stream of cum into the air, gravity taking hold and drawing it back down to land on my cock and her hand before another shot could lance up into the air. "Oh god. You're coming!" She cried softly as she felt my cock surging in her hand, her own climax deciding at that moment to unleash its chemical cocktail of hormones into her blood stream, making her whole body shake and tremble. "Fuck!" She groaned as she held my cock, her own body climaxing and leaking her juices between her legs onto the hot rocks. I lay there, still stroking her clit, not really able to pay all that much attention to what I was doing as my own climax surged through me, pumping shot after shot of cum out to collect on my chest, cock and her hand. She reached down to my hand and pressed hers over mine, stopping my motions but holding my fingers to her hot wet pussy. We lay there panting for long minutes before she let go of my cock and hand, pushing herself up onto one elbow to look at me. She leaned herself toward me, her tits pressing against my side and chest as she brought her face toward mine, her lips gently kissing my lips, her tongue teasing my lips softly. I kissed her back, letting her choose the pace and duration. She finally chose to break the long soft sensual kiss, holding her lips barely brushing against mine as she whispered a single short statement. "Thank you." Her eyes looking deeply into mine Thought she was done, but to my surprise she tilted her body over farther, her lips kissing my chest and then one of my nipples. She gently, slowly kissed her way down my body, finding the remains of my cum on my chest and gently licking it off of my skin before kissing lower. I couldn't help but get hard again at her attentions, my cock, growing in her hand as she kissed and licked closer and closer to it. The woman had a huge appetite for sensual pleasures. "You sure you want to do that?" I asked as she opened her mouth and closed it around my head, engulfing me with her hot lips. In response she swirled her tongue around my head, teasing me and gently moving her mouth up and down my shaft, teasing my again hard cock even harder as she stroked my shaft with her hand and lips. "Oh god." I groaned as she worked my cock slowly, teasingly. Her hot mouth teased my head and her tongue worked under and around my head, trying to find where I was most sensitive, and locating that spot with her tongue when I suddenly jerked in response to her touch. "Oh damn." Groaned, noticing a sound in the background, but not quite making the connection to anything more than another groan coming from my lips. "Oh god Kim." I groaned softly, my hips trying to lift toward her mouth as she worked my shaft. "So damn good." "Oh!" She cried suddenly, pulling her mouth from my cock. I didn't need to ask. I knew exactly what surprised her before I could ask. The cold drops started large and slow, the mixture of sun and ice cold rain drops a huge surprise. "Shit!" I grunted, sitting up and looking around. I could see it now. I'd heard the thunder and not connected the danger. Being on a mountain top weather wasn't what one expected. The sun was still shining from the west, but the clouds rolling up the mountain side from the north were just starting to top the mountain, the updraft carrying the first drops of rain up into the air to fall on us miles from the edge of the clouds. "We have to go!" I said abruptly, standing up and grabbing the backpack. I stuffed our clothes into the pack and grabbed her hand. "Now!" I said sternly. "I'm not afraid of a little rain. Slow down!" She said, pulling back at me. "Kim, you're not going to be in a gentle rain. And it's not going to be particularly warm." I said as I tried to pull her along. "You're at the top of a mountain. In a few minutes were going to be inside the clouds that are making this rain and what falls is going to feel like liquid ice. Think thawed blizzard." I said, pulling her without stopping. "Oh shit." Kim answered as the first wisps of cloud blew across the landscape in front of us. We were still a ways from the trees when the heavier fog rolled in over us, almost immediately chilling us with its clinging moisture. "Come on." I said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her to where I knew the trees had to be, even though we couldn't see them for the thick fog. I preferred the fog, knowing what was coming next. I'd been caught in one of these on the lake once, only a short fifteen minutes from the cabin, but it was a miserable fifteen minutes that took hours to feel like I had warmed up from. This time we were a lot farther away and a whole lot less dressed. "You know where the trail is?" Kim asked with concern. "Yeah," I lied, "Just watch your step and we'll be fine." At least I thought I knew where the trail was, I just wasn't positive we hadn't wandered off target towards the cliff or the other direction toward the long slope that would take us eventually down to the lodge a couple thousand feet lower. We'd never even see it in this fog and if we could we'd have hypothermia long before we got there. "Stupid. I should have watched closer." I muttered as we walked, a few small trees appearing in front of us. "You couldn't know it was coming." Kim said as larger trees started to appear though the fog. "My job to watch. You couldn’t know, but I’ve made this mistake before. It’s something you vow to never let happen again. That is, if you survive the first time." I answered, as I turned us a bit farther to my right, hoping to find the trail ahead of me. "I let myself get distracted. I hadn't planned on staying up there that long." "Well, for what it's worth, I'm not blaming you." "But I am." I said, angry at myself. She frowned at me and almost snapped at me. "Knock it off. I'm a big girl. I can make my own choices. You don't have to protect me. I didn't ask for you to protect me. I asked for you to share something with me. Something I wanted and something I enjoyed. So we get a little cold on the way home. Deal with it!" Kim’s Hypothermic Therapy "Keep that thought." I muttered as I finally found the gap in the trees that heralded the trail. Forty minutes later we walked out of the woods into clearing of the cabin, both of us shivering uncontrollably in the torrential downpour of icy drops. Kim had been stumbling for the last half mile, her legs losing their coordination, the first sign of serious hypothermia. I carried her the last 200 feet to the cabin. We stumbled into the cabin and I dropped her into one of the chairs and grabbed a towel from my bag and moved to her, rubbing her body all over and then grabbing the heavy wool quilt and wrapping it around her. Still shivering myself, I used the sticks in the firewood box next to the fireplace to build a small fire, my hands almost shaking too hard to get the match struck. The small flame grew in the sticks and I carefully fed larger sticks and then small pine logs onto the fire, allowing it to quickly grow so that I didn't have to huddle over it to feel its heat. With the flames growing larger I stripped off the wet clothing that was robbing my body’s heat. I stepped to the chair and scooped Kim from it, drawing her with me to the bearskin rug in front of the fire. I peeled the blanket from around her shivering body and pulled her to me, pressing her bare skin against mine. I sat on the thick fur rug, then reached a hand up to Kim, to come lay on my chest. Then I wrapped the wool quilt over the two of us and lay down across the front of the fire, letting the heat slowly warm the quilt and the two of us inside it. I closed my eyes, my arms wrapped around her, holding her chest against mine, our legs tangled together in the blanket as we shivered together. The shakes soon turned into drowsiness. Her kisses woke me. Soft, gentle, caring. Soft sweet tender kisses on my cheeks, my nose and my lips, each one slow and unhurried. As I became more awake I could feel that we had warmed, no longer feeling the cold of the rain but the heat of the fire still seeping through the blanket. She’d slid over to my side, with one of her naked legs slung over mine. I could also feel her hand between us, wrapped around my cock, gently, slowly, tenderly stroking me as she kissed me. "Kim." I started to say, as I rolled a bit to face her. "Shush," she whispered before planting another soft kiss on my lips to quiet me. I felt her push with one leg, gently returning me onto my back, leaving her partly on top of me. She continued her kisses, softly and seductively kissing my lips as she teased my cock harder by the moment, finally using her knees to lift her hips up from mine, her soft tits still pressed against my chest. I felt her slide herself up my body as she pushed my dick down between her legs, guiding my engorged head to her wet lips. I felt emotionally safe with her. She’d become a completely different person in less than 24 hours. "Kim." I whispered as she straddled over me, then pushed herself back, letting go of my shaft and sliding her arm up my body to rest on the furry rug next to my body. "Shush," she half whispered, half moaned as she pushed herself back down my body, lowering her mouth to mine and pressing her lips to mind as my cock was slowly enveloped by her hot cunt. "Yum" she moaned as she lifted her chest from mine, and worked her knees up next to my hips. "Oh damn." I moaned as she lifted her lips from mine, her hips slowly rocking up and down, sliding her pussy on and off my rigid dick, working me deeper and deeper into her tunnel. "That's it. Just enjoy. Let me do this, please," she whispered. She was making love to me. Not just desiring sex. She wanted to please me. I was beyond wanting to stop her. Between her attentions on the mountain top and her attentions now, my body was more than ready to let her have her way. I let my hands slide up her hips and sides, reaching for her breasts. She grinned down at me and one by one, reached for my hands and pulled them away from her breasts, moving them to next to my own head and holding them there, clasped with her own as she slowly rocked on me, her rock hard nipples grazing back and forth across my chest with each stroke. "Does it feel good Adam?" "Very!" I groaned back as she continued to stroke on and off of me, the heat from the fire and the heat from our bodies making us both sweat in our loose cocoon. I could feel her soft tunnel stroking my shaft, teasing my engorged head with her tight confines. On and off she slid, her big tits dripping sweat onto my chest and sliding around, her nipples rubbing against mine. "Oh god," she moaned as she rocked on and off of me. "Oh god," she moaned again, her hips rocking and trying to grind her clit against the base of my cock with each new stroke. "Oh god, Adam. Oh god I'm going to come!" She gasped over and over as she continued rocking on me, her legs trembling and making it harder for her to continue rocking. "Oh god, Adam," she cried softly, practically whimpering, but refusing to let my hands go to participate in any way. "Come for me Adam. Come for me!" She practically begged. "Oh yeah. Almost." I moaned back at her as the tingles radiated out from my cock through all the reaches of my body. Her spasming pussy, already so tight, seemed to try and grab and milk me like her hand had done, trying to draw me into her as she stroked on and off of my fat shaft. "Gonna come." I grunted, knowing that I couldn't hold back any longer, even if I wanted to. "Oh shit!" She cried as my body bucked, jamming my cock deep into her and pumping a huge gush of cum up into her pussy. "Oh, Fuck Yes" She cried loudly, dropping onto my jerking body, her hands pushing mine farther over my head. Her big soft tits smashed flat against my chest, her mouth lowering to mine, her lips trying to kiss mine between gasps and moans. My body continued to buck several more times under her, adding more cum to the load already poured into her from within me. Finally I stilled under her, only an occasional jerk still showing my fading climax, my cock twitching within her as it started to soften. She lay on me, her breathing easing, but her lips still erotically working against mine. "God that was incredible." I whispered between kisses. "You liked it?" "Very much." I whispered. “You made love with amazing insights into my soul.” "I'm glad," she said as she let go of my hands and slowly pushed herself up off of me. She tossed the blanket off of us and sat up on my hips, trapping my cock inside her as I softened. I reached for her hips and gently stroked my fingers up and down them before she reached for my hands and pulled them to her breasts, pressing my palms against her still hard nipples. "You know. I don't know what it is about your hands, but i want them on my body all the time for some reason." "Oh?" "Uh huh. Ever since you made me come, up there. I just want to be naked and have your hands all over me." "Not that I'm complaining, because I'm not. But why?" I asked. "If I knew, I'd tell you. Why did you do what you did up there?" "I don't know exactly. I just wanted to." I admitted "Me too," she answered with a smile, still sitting on me, her hands on mine, encouraging me to squeeze her breasts. "Thank you. For letting me do that." "Trust me, it was my pleasure." I answered with a smile. "I think we need something to eat though." "You don't want me sitting on you anymore?" "I'm not minding one bit." I chuckled. "But I do have a question." "Yeah? What's that?" she asked, leaning down against my hands sliding off her chest as she lowered her tits to my chest, her face inches from mine. "Why aren't you always like this?" "Like what?" "Soft, sweet, sexy, intimate, wonderful, caring, alluring, sensual, did I say incredible yet?" "No, you didn't." "Well. Incredible. Since I hadn't said it yet. I've never known you to be like this. What happened? What changed?" "You did the one thing that was required of any man who wanted me to be this way. You earned my respect and you treated me with respect. No one else deserved this side of me." "How did I earn your respect?" I asked a little confused. "Well, throwing me in the lake the first day was a start. You showed me that you set limits and that you weren't going to let me push you around. Second, you showed me skills. You showed me you believed in me. In my abilities that I hadn’t yet discovered. Not just how to get around town or do your job, but skills in many things. Not only could you do things, you weren't afraid to teach me how to do them as well. And the third thing, maybe the most important, you showed me compassion and respect when I clearly didn't deserve it. Those are the hallmarks of a man worth working to keep. Those are the things I've been looking for in a man for the last fifteen years." "I think you over estimate me." I answered. "And did I mention that you are an overly modest man?" She asked with a giggle. "Now, we only have one problem." "Yeah?" "Well, two actually." "Okay, what two problems?" "First, I know you like Amy. The question is can you treat her as well as you treat me, because we do come as a package deal. She's like a sister to me and we share absolutely everything." "Everything?" "EVERYTHING!" She answered emphatically, wrinkling her nose before she smiled. "What's the second problem?" "How do we call her and tell her to come out here and join us? There's a lot of the two weeks left to find out if we can make this work." Cryptic Messages In some ways it wasn't quite fair. I mean I've never been one to be deceitful, but in this case it seemed like the right thing to do. Kim was waiting back at the Rocky Mountain cabin and my job was to get Amy there without any argument. I stood by the plane as the car door opened. "Adam! What's' going on? Your phone call was more than a little bit cryptic," Amy asked as she practically ran across the tarmac at the Chicago DuPage County Airport, pulling the wheeled suitcase behind her. "Oh. Kim is having an absolute fit. She's demanding that you come at once and refusing to come home until you come get her," I said with a scowl. "You so owe me for screwing up my vacation!" I said pretending to be angry as I took the case from her and stuffed it into the hold under the cabin of my twin engine turbo prop. Truth be told I'd had a bit of a crush on Amy since I started flying her and Kim around the country. I'd of course told her about it, sorta, but been shut down cold every time I'd tried to entice her into anything personal. As Kim had told me, Amy was the perfect professional personal assistant. She was a whiz at keeping her schedule in order, able to handle a myriad of details without bothering Kim and in some cases, was as adept at running the lingerie business every bit as good as Kim. The only real difference was that Amy wasn't a super model. In her own right she was good looking. Five and a half feet, not skinny but not fat, modestly large chest, creamy white skin and short cut auburn hair. To me she looked damn sexy, no matter what she was wearing. Today, in a tight fitting, short skirted dress, she looked even more so. I followed her up the stairs to the plane, closing the stairway door just in time to watch her bend over and thread her way into the right hand co-pilots seat of the plane, her skirt pulling up far enough to show me that she had on pink lacy panties under the powder blue dress. "I'm so sorry. I know I pushed you to take her. I'll make it up to you somehow," she said as I stepped over the center console and settled into the left seat. I handed her a pair of bulky headphones with a microphone attached and then picked up my own somewhat slimmer designed headset and mic. I remained silent as I flipped through the startup procedure, spinning both turbines up before keying the microphone. "Dupage tower. X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven ready for departure." "Roger X-ray Alpha Gulf. You are cleared to taxiway W William to Runway 2 Left. Hold at the ramp." "Roger. Taxiway W William to 2 Left and hold," I answered as I throttled up, the only aircraft at the moment on the tarmac with an engine running. In moments we were bouncing along the narrow strip of pavement that would take us all the way south to the very end of the seventy-five hundred foot runway. It was well more than we'd need with the light load I had on board, but I wasn't going to complain. I stopped just before reaching the end of the runway and checked both engines and props, making sure everything was working properly before radioing the tower back. "Dupage tower. X-ray Alpha Gulf holding at two Left." "Roger X-ray Alpha Gulf, you are cleared onto the runway. Depart turning left and contact Chicago flight following at five thousand." "Roger that tower. X-ray Alpha Gulf rolling," I answered. Taking off from a smaller airport like this one was always more relaxing than trying to fight the big boys at someplace like O'Hare or Midway. I let off the brakes and rolled onto the end of the runway, turning the plane to line up down the center line before pushing the throttles full on. "So how long?" Amy asked over the headset as the plane launched itself up from the pavement and I snapped the landing gear handle into the stow position. "About four hours, sooner if the wind doesn’t fight us, and we can avoid any August storms." I answered, letting my voice soften, no longer having to maintain the fiction that I used to get her here and on the plane. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the envelope that Kim had for her, an envelope I wasn't supposed to give to her until we were in the air. "What's this?" "A note from Kim," I answered. "What's it say?" "I dunno. She told me not to read it," I answered with a shrug. "Chicago center, X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven climbing to fifteen thousand." "Roger X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven. Climbing to fifteen thousand." "And you didn't? Read it I mean?" she asked as she unfolded the paper. "Nope. I guessed it wasn't my business. I'm just following orders to get you on the plane and get you there anyway I can." Amy frowned and looked down at the note, reading it slowly. She flipped the paper over and back again, as if looking for more information. "And you have no idea what this is about?" "All I know is that I have specific orders from her highness to fetch you. She said everything else you needed to know was in the note." "But it doesn't tell me all that much." "Well, she was adamant. She wasn't coming home until you got there. I couldn't very well leave her there forever, could I?" "Well, no. But what triggered this? I mean did you do anything to her?" "Besides throw her ass in the lake the first day? Not really," I answered. "You really threw her in the lake?" "Yep. Picked her up, hauled her ass over my shoulder to the end of the pier and threw her right into the water. She was none too happy about it either." "I don't imagine she was," Amy answered quietly. To be continued. By m storyman x, for Literotica.

Brooke and Tyler wonder and worry about Roshar's scarlet-headed radiant. How did Shallan's actions in Wind and Truth impact the broader narrative? What will happen to her in the second half? Which of her powers and combinations make up the strange abilities of one of the Cosmere's most intriguing characters? #AllSpoilers Support this podcast by becoming a Patron on Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/CosmereConversations) Original music by David Gruwier (https://twitter.com/DGruwier). "Radiant" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A5CFAZUv4C0) by David Gruwier.

David Szalay - Joe Philpott - The best crime novels of 2025

Send us a textAge Gap Excerpt from John Gives His Wife Hot Adventures. This is a short excerpt from the book because the podcast host platform is now censoring me, after five years of being fine with my content. I will be looking for a new host platform that doesn't censor love and romance. We should all be fighting for our rights to free speech. Censorship comes in many forms, like this where they are de-platforming me. Never stop fighting for the right to free speech from the First Amendment of the United States. Protect the First Amendment!Support the showExclusives https://www.buzzsprout.com/1599808/subscribeNewsletters https://subscribepage.io/ruanwillowhttps://linktr.ee/RuanWillow Affiliates Firm Tech 15% OFF with code ruan15 https://myfirmtech.com/ruanwillow BeeDee dating app https://beedee.app/?r=ohfuckyeahThe Fantasy Box DATE30 for $30 OFF 1st box https://thefantasybox.sjv.io/c/6250602/2141126/26423

Runways: Part 2 The Taming of the Shrew "I told you what I'd do if you pissed me off." I said as she walked past me. By m_storyman_x – listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. "That water was fucking cold!" "Uh huh. Matches your attitude. I think if I were you I'd warm it up a bit or you might be sleeping out in the jeep." "You wouldn't!" "The hell I wouldn't." I said with a scowl. "Remember the rules. This is my fucking vacation. You're along because I said you could, not to baby or pamper you or put up with your diva shit. If you don't like it, the road works two ways. "Fine! I'm outa here!" She said stomping off toward the jeep. She climbed into the front seat and turned the key, the jeep lurching forward before coming to a stop again. "What's wrong with this thing?" "It's a stick shift." I said with a frown as I turned and walked back into the cabin. "Okay. So I don't know how to make it work," she said quietly as she came in and closed the door quietly behind herself. "Not surprised. Come eat." I said, dishing some chili from the pot on the stove into two bowls. I was starved, having not gotten any lunch and it was already half way to dinner. I sat down and dug into my bowl, ignoring her. She slipped gently into the seat across from me and meekly apologized. "I'm sorry," she said barely above a whisper. "Forgiven." I said simply, pushing a bowl of chili across the table toward her. "Better eat." She looked at the bowl cautiously. "Is it organic?" "Nope. Just plain cow and beans and spices." I answered. "I don't eat much meat," she said quietly, looking at the bowl as if it might bite her. "Well, then you're probably going to be hungry a lot of the time, because I didn't bring a whole lot of vegetables and crap like that." I said, reaching out to hand her a spoon. She took the spoon and gingerly scooped a small bite from the bowl, lifting it to her lips and tentatively tasting it. A few moments later the spoon was emptied and headed back for another trip. "This is good," she said with a little surprise in her voice. "Thank you." "You made it?" "Uh huh." "I didn't know you could cook." "You never asked." I answered with a shrug. "I don't know how," she said quietly. "Guess you're going to have to learn." I answered her, looking at her face pointed down at the bowl almost as if she were ashamed to admit she couldn't cook. "Not to worry. I won't let you starve. Eat up now. Maybe I'll teach you how to fish." She looked up at me curiously and then back down at the bowl, scooping another spoon of chili. "Adam. Why are you doing this?" "Doing what?" I asked between bites. "This. Here. Me?" I sighed and leaned back in my chair. "As a favor to Amy." "You like her, don't you?" "Yeah. She's nice. Not interested in me, but nice just the same." "She might be interested in you. She talks about you. I've heard her say your name when she comes." I looked at her in surprise. "Huh? She does what?" "She sometimes says your name when we're fucking. You did know didn't you? That she was lesbian, right?" "Uh, no. I didn't. Explains a lot though." "Sorry," she said softly. "Well, at least I know where I stand... with both of you," I answered her between bites of my chili. "Don't assume. The main reason I don't do guys is that I hate having the guys coming on to me all the time. Makes me feel dirty or something. Seems like every guy on the planet wants to get into my panties." "Can you blame them? I mean hell, you're one of the hottest looking women on the planet. You could have the pick of any guy you want." "Who says I want a guy?" "We all assume that, until you prove to us different." "Is that why you don't try to come on to me? Or is it professional ethics?" I chuckled and didn't answer her, but continued eating my chili. "Come on. I know you're turned on by how I look. I saw that boner on the way up here." "Didn't say your body didn't turn my body on. Hell, sitting here looking at your bare tits turns my cock on. I'll admit that." "But you don't want to come on to me?" "Not particularly." "Why?" "When I took this job, I thought about it. Shit I had a hard boner the whole time on those first few photo shoots I flew you too. But I stopped going to them and stayed with the plane because it just wasn't that interesting any longer." "Why not?" "You really want me to tell you?" "Yes! I do!" I set my spoon down and leaned back in my chair. "Even if it hurts your feelings?" She was silent for several long seconds. "Yes, even if it hurts my feelings." "Because the longer I knew you the more I realized that you had a personality that was less than attractive." "What do you mean?" "You act like a class A bitch. No one likes a bitch, especially a guy. Anyone I know that's gotten to know you feels the same way." I said. "Well, as you say, at least I know where I stand," she said tilting her head up defiantly. "No. You don't. I fly you because I need the money. You're here screwing up my vacation, the vacation that I've been planning for six months because Amy begged me to take you. You had a stress attack. Your body tried to shut itself down because you're over stressed and under rested. She's afraid of something happening to you. She wanted you to get away and relax so badly that she offered to spend a whole weekend having sex with me, just so that I'd take you along." "She did?!" "She did. But I told her no. I only agreed to take you because she threatened to find another pilot to fly you while I was gone, so you're here so that I don't lose my job as your pilot." She got up from the table and walked to the cabin door. "Well you don't have to worry. I won't fire you, and since I'm stuck here with you I won't be flying with anyone else. So you're safe. You don't have to worry about being nice to me or doing anything for me. You clearly don't want me here, so you do what you need and I'll just find something to keep me busy," she said before turning and walking out the door. The rejection she felt was deep & profound. I shook my head, leaned over my bowl and finished the last few bites. I cleaned up both our dishes, put the food in what served as a refrigerator in the small cabin, and then dug into my gear, pulling on some shorts and a shirt and then getting out my fishing gear. It took me about ten minutes to get my rods put together, threaded and my artificial baits organized to go fish. I saw her sitting on the shore, still naked, looking out at the lake as I walked to the little boat. I flipped it over, put the little electric motor and the oars in the boat and then went back to the cabin for the battery. I lugged the fifty plus pound battery out to the boat, settled it into the back and then attached the cables. She was still sitting against the tree as I pushed off and headed out onto the lake to fish. It was dark by the time I came in. The moon was already up, and while not full, it provided plenty of light for me to make it to shore and then to the cabin. I reached into my pocket for the lighter that I knew was there as I headed for the porch. I pulled the lantern down from the hook on the porch, pumped it up, having checked to be sure it had fuel in it before I left. I held the lighter to the hole in the side of the lantern and it puffed to life, the yellow flame quickly changing to blue and then bright white as the mantel did its job converting the gas flame into a more refined reaction. I picked up the lantern and walked into the cabin, the light filling the small cabin and illuminating Kim sitting in one of the three chairs in the room, wrapped in a blanket, her knees pulled up to her chest with the blanket wrapped around herself. "You're back," she said barely above a whisper. "Uh huh. You could have lit a lantern." I told her. “The lone skylight I installed over the table had ceased to illuminate anything, this late in the day. "I didn't know how," she said with a frown on her face. "Seems like I don't know a lot of things." Kim’s Humble Apprenticeship "Well, come here." I said as I pulled an oil lamp down off the wall. "Matches are here." I said, stepping to the fireplace and pulling open a box of wooden matches, sitting on the mantle. “Gawd, this fur rug is huge! What animal was it,” she asked. That’s Uri. He’s the grizzly whom my dad met outside the cabin, one morning. He stood about 15 feet tall, when Dad dropped him 10 feet from the door, with a rifle bullet to the heart. We skinned him and stretched the hide. The meat was rather tough, but we quartered his carcus and took him to the meat market It’s a nice cozy rug when you’re cold and trying to warm up in front of the fireplace. I set the lamp on the table by the lantern and took the glass globe off, striking the match and touched it to the wide wick. The flame slowly grew and threw light of its own, though dwarfed by the bright gas lantern. "I have to deal with my fish. You can come outside if you want. If not, you at least have some light." "You caught some?" "A few." I answered as I turned and walked out of the cabin with the lantern. She followed behind, wrapped in the blanket and followed me to the boat and then to the metal-covered table, screwed down to one side of the end of the dock. "So that's what this is for?" She asked as I laid the three fish on the table to clean them. "Yep." I said as I used my pocket knife to cut the lower jaw and the belly, pulling the guts out and tossing it into the water by the dock. It only took a few short minutes to completely clean and rinse the three rainbow trout that I had caught. "Breakfast." I said, holding up the three fish in one hand and picking up the lantern with the other. "So what now?" Kim asked as she followed me into the cabin, closing the door behind us. "Well. Usually I'd just go to bed." I answered as I put the fish in the ice box and set the lantern on the counter. "So early?" "It's probably past eight." I said with a shrug. "Are you hungry?" "I snacked on some crackers, but I wouldn't mind something," she answered meekly. "I would have made something, but I didn't know how to make the stove work. I turned the knobs but the flames never came on." "Yeah, gotta light it with a match." I told her as I walked back to the icebox and pulled a Ziploc bag out. I walked to the stove and lit two burners, dug out two cast iron pans and put them on the flames. I dug in my food box for a container of oil and poured some in each pan. Putting away the oil I pulled out two large potatoes and quickly sliced them, dropping the white slices into one of the pans and then laid two marinated chicken breasts from the Ziploc into the other pan. It only took a few minutes to cook the potatoes and chicken breasts, ladling the fried food onto two plates. I set the pans aside to let the oil cool and then set the plates on the table. "Might as well come eat." I said as she stood near the wall watching me. "I'm not supposed to make you cook for me," she said quietly. "I know. But I did. So come eat." She walked to the table and sat down, carefully taking a few bites of the food. "Damn this is good," she mumbled as she began eating quickly. "I don't get much fried food. Not good for my figure, but this is so good." I chuckled. "Thanks." Kim was finished long before I was, and sat curled up in her blanket across from me, watching me eat. "Are you good at other things? Besides cooking and fishing and flying I mean?" "I think I'm pretty fair at a lot of things. What in particular are you asking about?" "I don't know. I mean most of the guys I know couldn't figure out which end of a fry pan to hold, let alone cook something good like this. But it seems like you know how to do everything you try. I mean you drove that jeep up here, you know how to fish, it's like you're a mountain man on steroids, or something." I laughed quietly. "No. Just learned when I was young how to camp and handle myself in the woods. Come on. We'll go get water and I'll show you how to be Jane of the jungle. You can do the dishes." "Sounds fair," she said, getting up and standing expectantly next to the table. "Here." I said handing her a plastic bucket. "We have to get water." I picked up the lantern and walked out of the cabin with her following behind. She followed me to the dock and dipped the bucket into the water. I smiled to myself as she struggled to carry the bucket and hold the blanket, but didn't offer to take it for her. I showed her where the big pot was, and let her fill it with her bucket and start it heating. We both sat in the chairs, waiting for the water to heat on the gas stove. She got up, walked to one of her suitcases, sitting against the wall and open, pulled out a rather slinky looking robe and slipped it over her still naked body. "Use another pot to scoop water out into the wash pan. You want to save some of that water to wash yourself with." "Wash myself?" "Yeah. Unless you want to wash in the lake." I chuckled. "Oh. Hadn't thought of that," she said as she headed for the sink. I took the blanket and threw it back on the bed, stripped my clothes off and climbed into bed, in the corner. "I'll go to sleep if you want some privacy to clean up. Just make sure to shut the lantern all the way off before you come to bed. I'd hate to waste the fuel, there's only so much." "Okay," she said quietly. "Adam?" "Yeah?" I answered without looking over at her. "Thank you." "For what?" "Being different," she said, as if that explained it all. I was still awake almost half an hour later when the cabin went dark. Kim climbed into bed with me, smelling of flowers as she slipped under the blanket with me, her back bumping against my back as she climbed into the full size bed. "It is small, isn't it?" "Uh huh. Cozy for two." I answered her. "I don't mind," she whispered. "Do you always sleep like that?" "Like what?" "Naked." "Yeah, actually." I answered in a whisper. "I don't have to, if it bothers you." "No. Not if it's how you usually sleep." "Okay." I answered sleepily. "Go to sleep now." I woke up with the sun, not completely surprised to be spooned up against Kim. How did I roll over and nuzzle up in this spooning position? How would I explain it? It was cool in the cabin and her body heat was certainly attractive to any sleeping body. Natural response, as was the morning woody. I suppose I could have considered that woody being jammed between her legs and my hand cupping her breast through the thin nightgown being natural as well, but the last thing I needed was to wake up the ‘ice queen’ thinking that I was trying to take advantage of her in her sleep. I eased myself away from her and out of bed. I stepped to my duffel and pulled out a pair of shorts and a shirt, pulling them on and then heading out the door, letting the screen door slam as I went. If she was awake, she pretended not to be. By the time I came back from the outhouse Kim was up and dressed in a pair of pink sweats, the form fitting spandex hugging her curves. "Good morning," she said surprisingly meekly. "Morning." "I guess it's my turn now," she said heading to the cabin door, her hair looking wild after the night's sleep. While she was gone I pulled the pan from the potatoes onto the now lit front burner, heating the oil left over from the night before. "You're going to reuse the oil?" She asked as she stepped back into the cabin, rubbing her arms to ward off the morning chill. "Yep. The potato oil. It'll be find for cooking breakfast." I said as I pulled another pan from the cabinet and lit another burner. I spooned a couple teaspoons of hot oil into the other pan before laying the two of the fish from last night into the hot oil. The fish sizzled and spit in the pan as it cooked, the skin crisping in the hot oil as the fish cooked through. I flipped it over after a few minutes to let the other side cook and then cracked some eggs in the second pan. In only a few minutes I had two plates of breakfast ready to eat, fresh fish and eggs. Couldn't ask for a better breakfast in the woods. "When you wash the dishes, don't use soap in the cast iron. It'll ruin it." I told her before I got up to head out of the cabin. I loved fishing early in the morning. Working a small fly along the weed banks on the far end of the lake where the four small springs trickled into the lake was one of my favorite spots on this lake. The rainbow trout came up from the cold deep waters to feast on the small bugs and minnows that inhabit the weeds, making my flies an inviting target of opportunity. By lunchtime I had six nice fish on the stringer and was ready to head back into camp. Even from half way across the small lake it was obvious to me that Kim was waiting along the lakeshore. Just as obvious was that she was scantly dressed in just a loose tubetop and mini shorts, walking barefoot on the stones near the shoreline.. Two days ago I wouldn't have given a shit, but for reasons that escaped me at the moment, the thought of what she might or might not be exposing besides her sexy breasts had my cock quickly growing in my shorts. "You're back!" She said surprisingly cheerfully as I motored silently up to the dock, only the soft whir of the motor and the sloshing of the water along the sides of the little aluminum boat making my presence known. "Have any luck?" "I did." I answered as I let the boat slide all the way to the shore and burry its bow gently on the small patch of sand next to the rickety little dock. I looped a rope around one of the cedar posts and then climbed out with my stringer of fish. "Oh. Those do look nice!" She said as she walked toward me, I guess sometime since I first spotted her from the middle of the lake, she’d removed her top & was wearing only the skimpiest of shorts, her large soft tits swinging and wiggling with each step. I walked to the end of the dock, to the cleaning table trying to ignore the fact that my cock was hardening even more in my pants at the sight of her practically perfect tits. She stepped up to me to watch, so close that one of her breasts brushed my arm gently as I worked to clean the fish, her attention riveted on my motions. "Is that all there is to it?" She asked after the third fish. "Yep. Wanna try one? "Can I?" "Sure." I answered, stepping to the side and holding the knife out for her. "Pick one and hold it belly side up. Yeah, like that." I said as she grasped the slippery fish the same way I had. "Now, see that spot there, that hole just up from his tail. Yeah, right there. Slip the tip of the knife in and carefully cut all the way up his stomach to his jaw. Yeah, just like that." I told her as she tentatively worked the knife along the belly of the fish toward the head. "A little more. Yeah, that's enough. Now, set it on the table belly side down. And cut just behind the front fins there. Yeah, cut down, but not all the way through. Just down through the backbone. Perfect. Now comes the messy part. Grab the head and bend it down." "Like this?" She asked as she bent the head down, breaking the remains of the backbone. "Yep, now just pull back toward the fish and it'll pull all his guts out." I coaxed her as she gently pulled on the head. "Harder." I said as she still wasn't pulling hard enough. I stepped behind her, reached around her and held her hands in mine, holding the fish with one and helping her pull with the other. "Oye!" She squeaked as the last of the skin by the fins broke loose and the whole intestinal track pulled out of the cut belly of the fish. "Perfect. Just toss that into the lake." I said as I let go of her hands. She tossed the fish guts toward the water, the jerk of her body bumping her against me and her practically bare ass against the front of my baggy shorts and my hard cock. "Now, just run your thumb along the inside of the fish and push that blood line out. Yeah, that's it." I coaxed, hoping she hadn't noticed my state of arousal. "And that's it." I said, stepping back. "I can think of a few men over the years that I might have wanted to clean that easily," she said with a giggle as she stepped to the edge of the lake to rinse her hands while I worked to clean the last two fish. "You do that so fast!" She said as she stepped up behind me to look over my shoulder as I finished the two remaining fish in the same amount of time that it took her to rinse her hands. "Practice. Been doing this for years." I answered, setting the fish on the clean end of the table and taking the metal pot hanging on one, off its hook. I put the fish in the pot and squatted down next to the lake to start rinsing them off. "Just have to clean them and they're ready for the pan." I said as I started washing the first fish. Kim stepped next to me, bending at the waist to watch me, her tits hanging right next to my face as I worked, each sexy orb swinging slightly with any movement she made. I worked methodically hoping she would lose interest and stand back up, but she stayed bent over me the entire time. I finally couldn't put it off any longer. I stood up and moved to the table again, hoping she wouldn't notice the huge bulge that had developed in the front of my shorts. I put the fish on the clean end of the table again and then used the pan to scoop water from the lake to rinse off the cleaning table. I squatted down one more time to clean my knife and my hands and then stood up, finding her standing with the six fish in her hands ready to head back to the cabin.  It was a rather tribal moment, The man comes back to camp, having a successful hunt. The woman takes the game and shows her gratitude to her provider. "Thank you," she said sweetly as we walked across the grassy yard toward the log cabin. "For what? Teaching you to clean a fish? You're welcome." I answered, a little surprised at her docile demeanor. "That and for not being obvious." "I don't understand." She stopped in front of me and said, "Stand still." I stopped next to her. "Okay." I answered, not quite sure what she wanted. She stepped over in front of me and quickly pressed her almost completely bare ass against the front of my shorts, rubbing it side to side, bouncing her crack across the bulge my hard cock was making. "For not being obvious about that," she said before she started walking again. "Uh. Sure." I answered as I followed her to the porch. She stood and waited for me to open the door, her hands still full of the mornings catch. She set the fish in the sink and then used a small pot of water sitting in the sink to dip her hands in before rubbing them with the bar of soap sitting on the edge. She rinsed them in the same pan and then dried them, stepping away from the sink to give me room to finish working with the fish. I looked around and the dishes were all done and the bed was made and I even saw where the broom that had been sitting near the fireplace had moved. "Looks nice." I answered, honestly appreciating her efforts to hold up her side of the bargain. "Thank you," she replied sweetly, sitting down in one of the chairs and watching me bag the fish and put them in the ice box. "How does that work? I mean there isn't any electricity up here." "The ice box? It's tied into the solar panels on the roof. When it's sunny it makes enough power to run the refrigeration system. It's got a big tub of water in the top that it freezes into a block of ice. Once it's frozen it can keep the ice box cold for a few days. That way if the sun doesn't shine for a few days nothing spoils. Kind of like an automatically replenishing cooler." "Oh. That's ingenious. Who figured that out?" "Well, I'd like to take credit for the idea, but it's not mine. I just built this one from an old freezer" "So, how do you know about this place? I thought you rented it?" "I do, sorta. My dad brought me up here when I was a kid. That was way before it was a ski lodge. The old man that owned it was getting really old and he sold it to my old man. When the ski lodge came in they made us a deal because they wanted the land. As I understand it, if we hadn't sold out we wouldn't be able to get here. They would have controlled the road. So we sold it to them on the understanding that they wouldn't build any more cabins on the lake, and that we got to use it for four weeks out of the summer. We had to arrange it, but the rest of the time they rent it out to others." I answered. "I've been coming here almost every year since I was six." "I can see why. It's perfect up here." "Tell you what. Let's make a couple sandwiches and I'll show you something even more beautiful." I suggested. "Sure. Let me. What do you want?" "Oh ham and cheese is good." I answered her as she got out bread and then opened the ice box to dig out things to make sandwiches with. While she made sandwiches I got a bucket of water from the lake and refilled the filter unit on the counter, letting the water flow through the Britta filter system into a pitcher. The lake was clean enough you could probably drink it directly, but these days it was always safer to filter it. I used the filtered water to fill four one liter water bottles and stuffed them in a small pack. She had the sandwiches done and wrapped in cling wrap and I stuffed them in the pack as well. "Do you have any good walking shoes and clothes?" "We going far?" "Not too far, but farther than you're going to want to go in those sandals." I said. "I have running shoes," She offered. "That'll due. You might also want to put more clothes on." "You don't like what I'm wearing?" "THAT I didn't say. Just a suggestion. That little slip of a swim suit doesn't even cover your ass." "It's not supposed to. That's why it's called a thong bikini," she said with a smile. "But if you don't like seeing my cheeks, I'll cover them up for you." "No. You can wear whatever you want. We're going to go walk through the brush. I thought you might want something a bit more protective, to avoid scraping your soft skin. Then there’s the very strong winds that can cause windburn. But you wear what you want." "Well, if you think I should," she said as she bent over her suitcase her bare ass pushing out at me as I stood there. She reached for her hips and pulled the strings of the bottom, pulling the tiny slip of material from between her legs, her pouting fat pussy lips now pushing out uncovered between her legs. "Damn." I breathed quietly as she stood bent over, unfolding her shorts and then stepping into them and finally standing straight up again. "There," she said turning for me to show off the white gauze croptop & a pair of skin tight mini shorts she now had on. "Better?" "Um. Yeah. I suppose so." I answered her as I picked up the pack. "Let's go." To be continued. By m_storyman_x, for Literotica.

It's time to give Thanks! And we're thankful for the amount of readable material out in the ether - because without it, what else would we bring to the table?This month is something special - our very first Battle of the Genres as Novel Spirits! One genre, two books, one victor. Jacob and Michael face off to see who can bring the top sample of Magical Realism. Piranesi or Blade of the Immortal!Piranesi - https://www.amazon.com/Piranesi-Susanna-Clarke/dp/1635577802Blade of the Immortal - https://www.amazon.com/Blade-Immortal-Omnibus-Hiroaki-Samura/dp/1506701248The drinks varied for this episode because there wasn't a set theme to work with, so bring out your favorite and enjoy all the same. Any and all feedback welcome!And don't forget to like, subscribe, and comment/vote for your chance to win some amazing studio prizes. Subscribers (and voters!) are auto-enrolled in our new monthly raffle, where you can win studio merch, books, comics, games, and more.As always, Cheers! Until next time. #podcast   #podcasts   #podcasting   #comics   #artist   #writing   #reviews   #comicreviews   #comicreview    #booklover   #bookreview   #booktok  #books   #artwork   #art   #podcastlife  #drunkreaction  #readingcommunity  #funny  #indieauthors  #bookrecommendations #piranesi #ninja #samurai #bladeoftheimmortal #magic #magicalrealism #narnia #mixology #drinks  

The Feast of the Goat by Peruvian-born Mario Vargas Llosa, translated from the Spanish by Edith GrossmanTerritory of Light by Japanese author Yuko Tsushima, translated from the Japanese by Geraldine HarcourtAmnesty by India-born Aravind Adiga

Runways: Part 1 Flying a supermodel isn't all it appears to be. By m_storyman_x – listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I had to find something to do when I got out of the military. Something that I loved, something that I wouldn't mind doing while I collected my military pension at age 40. Yeah, I know, retired at such a young age. But the military game is a young man's game and even with over seven thousand flying hours, youth still trumps experience in the flying game. As you get older your body just can't respond like it used to. As a result I just couldn't keep taking those high G maneuvers. I convinced the bank that I was a good risk, purchased myself a used Beach King Air 200 turbo prop and set myself up as an executive charter service. Life was good. Business was thin. On more than one occasion I ended up sleeping in my own airplane rather than getting a hotel room, just to try and save some money. It's not easy to pay for a three quarters of a million dollar aircraft, fuel, maintenance and living expenses. To be quite honest, I was about to drown under that debt. Welcome Amy. Amy called because of one of my business cards I'd left in so many airports. Amy was the executive secretary to a somewhat famous fashion model. In her own words, she was a glorified baby sitter, helping Kimberly manage her multi-million dollar business of runway modeling and lingerie line and endorsements. Her current problem was that Kim had suddenly become afraid to fly commercial following a spate of terrorist attacks against aircraft. Her question was a simple one. Would I be interested in contracting to handle flying her around the country? Could I deal with airport runways, so she could focus on helping Kim dominate the fashion garment runways. At that point I would have contracted to fly Beelzebub himself, if the price were right. Little did I know that six months down the road I'd feel as if that was exactly who I was flying. Kim was gorgeous. Of course she was. She was a super model. At thirty she was on the long side of it, but then some continued to work well into their fifties, with the right skin care and constant workouts and such. Kim flitted from city to city, rarely spending more than two or three days in any one place. She had a beautiful twenty thousand square foot home, which she seemed to rarely be in. She could walk the walk and talk the talk and sell sexy little lingerie like she was selling snow to eskimos. Unfortunately her looks is where nice stopped. She'd started to believe her own hype. She'd started to think of herself as a diva and act as if those of us around her were beneath her. More than once her sweet lilting voice snarled from the passenger cabin that I was flying too rough, or making the plane bounce too much for her to sleep. As if I had any control over the air currents. Amy was the constant. She was always there, inserting herself between Kim and whoever might possibly be around her. She soothed Kim and kept her empire on an even keel. But while the pace seemed relentless to me, Kim seemed to just eat it up. She loved the challenge as much as I loved flying. I suppose if I hadn't gone out on a limb after three months and updated my plane from a 1980's vintage to a reasonably new 2002, I might have even quit the contract. But with that new payment to cover, the last thing I wanted to do was kill the cash cow. I'd asked Kim more than once for a date, and always gotten the same answer, "we can fuck or we can work together. Which do you prefer?" "X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven, rolling." I radioed the tower as I applied the throttle and sent the Air King accelerating down the runway. This was going to be a relatively short trip. Kim had some kind of a photo shoot in the middle of Missouri, at some lake called the Ozarks, out in the middle of nowhere. All I knew was it looked like a winding snake on the map and had one small airport close to where the shoot was that had just enough runway to sneak in if I went in light. In only a few short minutes we were climbing through ten thousand feet, winging our way from Chicago over the Midwestern landscape at nearly three hundred miles an hour. "Adam!" I heard Amy call urgently from the passenger cabin. "Yeah?" I called over my shoulder. "Kim. She passed out. I can't seem to wake her!" She called, panic clearly etched in her voice. "Is she breathing?" I called back. "Yes, but it's very shallow and I can't seem to wake her." "Okay. Check her eyes. Lift her eyelids and see if they respond." "They seem too, but she still isn't waking up." "Okay. Let me see where we can put down!" I called back to her. "Chicago center. This is X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven. Declaring a medical emergency." "Roger X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven. State your situation." The controller radioed back. "X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven. We have a passenger that is passed out. She is breathing at this time, but otherwise unresponsive. Requesting a Vector to the nearest airport with medical close by." "Roger that X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven. Hold one." The controller said before pausing for a few moments. "X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven turn two four zero. You are cleared to five thousand direct. ST Louis should be fifty miles. Contact St Louis approach on one three two point one two five. Have a good day." "Thank you Chicago." I answered before changing the radio and starting a decent toward St Louis. The decent and landing were as normal as they could be, touching down less than twenty minutes after making the initial call. I taxied to the executive terminal and shut down, the ambulance quickly coming to the side of the plane as my turbo props spun slowly down to a stop. As much as I disliked Kim, I was concerned for her well-being. Clearly Amy was as well, and I did my best to comfort her on the taxi ride to the hospital. By the time we got there, Kim was awake and back to her normal bitchy self, though the doctors and nurses seemed to be flitting in and out with uncommon frequency. Twenty four hours later and who knows how many tests she was ready to be released. "Now look. All I can do is warn you," the doctor said with a stern look on his face. "You were lucky. You can't treat your body this way. My prescription is two weeks away, at least! No stress. You need to find someplace to relax and decompress." "No fucking way. I have too much to do!" Kim argued. The doctor turned to Amy and shook his head. "If you can't get her to take it easy a while, she's going to be right back here again. And next time she may leave toes up!" He said emphatically before turning back to Kim again. "I mean it! No phone, no computer, no stress of any kind. Your blood pressure was through the roof and you're just damn lucky it wasn't a stroke! Find a way to do it. And find a way to do it frequently, or you're going to be leaving us all too soon." "I'll make sure she does!" Amy said giving Kim a stern look. "Thank you Doctor." "Your welcome young lady. I hope she listens to you better than she's listening to me." He said as he looked over and saw Kim texting on her phone again. "She will. If I have to tie her up and drag her off." Amy said sternly to Kim. "Good luck with that," he said, shaking his head as he walked away. "Come on." Amy said, leading Kim from the hospital room. It was little more than two hours and we were back at the airport, the turbines warmed up and taxying for takeoff. The plane practically leapt off the tarmac and into the air as we headed back to Chicago, soaring into the air. "You know. I don't know how you're going to get her to have any time away," I said to Amy as she sat in the right hand seat, Kim sitting in the back alone, still angry with the doctor's orders. "Yeah. I know. She can be difficult," Amy agreed. "Glad I'm not going to have to deal with her," I said, shaking my head. "No? Oh. That's right. You're going away for a couple weeks," Amy said, nodding as she remembered that next week started my promised vacation. "Where are you going again?" "A little mountain lake in Colorado," I said with a smile. "Just me and some really good fishing. Sit back, catch a few trout, watch the sun set on the mountain side looking over the valley below. It can't get more idyllic than that!" I said with a sigh. "Sounds like a perfect get-away!" Amy said, leaning back and looking at the cockpit ceiling. "No phone, no demands on your time, just relaxation for two weeks? God I envy you!" She said with a sigh. "Could have been yours too." I said with a grin, reminding her that I had invited her to come along, only to get the typical answer. I made one last pitch; "The bed is big enough for two, though it would be a bit cozy!" "Yeah. I think we covered that one," she said with a smile. "Though it does sound tempting." "Can't say I didn't try." I answered her with a shrug. "So how do we get Kim to go on a vacation like that?" "Not my problem," I said with a smirk. "I lined this up months ago. You know how hard it is to find a place like this? Isolated? No phone no modern utilities, nothing?" "Yeah, it has to be tough." Amy said as she looked out the window at the ground far below. "Hey. I know. Take Kim!" "What? Are you nuts?" I said in surprise. "First off, her idea of roughing it, is not having her manicure on time. Can you imagine her out in the boonies without even a flush toilet?" "Oh lord. That would be something to see," Amy said with a laugh. "Yeah. She'd go nuts in half a day," I said with a shake of my head. "So, how much does this little vacation cost you?" "Oh, fuel, food, cabin and all? About seventeen or eighteen hundred. It'd be less if I didn't fly this gas hog there, but the only real way there is by plane or a long drive up from Denver." "That's not too much. I'll pay you." Amy said quietly. "Pay me for what?" "To take Kim," Amy said, still looking out the window. "No way. It's my vacation. I don't want to baby sit a prima donna!" I almost snapped. "Be a shame to have to find someone else to fly us around while you're gone. Never know, she might like the new pilot better," she said softly. "You trying to blackmail me?" I asked in surprise. "Oh I wouldn't call it that," she said, turning to look at me, a crooked little grin on her face. "Just think of it as job security." "Think of it as one fucked vacation," I said hotly, staring out the front at the open sky. "It's only a one room cabin. Kitchen, bedroom, living room...all the same room. And only one bed. Where will she sleep?" "You're adults. You can share the bed, right?" "Remember me saying it was, really cozy for the two of us friends?" "Yeah. So it can be cozy for you two too. It'll give you a chance to get to know her better." "You're psycho, you know that?" I said angrily. I'd planned this for months. I wanted to get away from the ice queen, not shack up with her! "So how about it?" "I don't think you could pay me enough money to do that," I said, shaking my head. "Okay. How about I sweeten the pot. I'll sleep with you for a whole weekend when you get back." I looked over at her incredulously. "Did you just suggest that you prostitute yourself to convince me to take her with me? Seriously?" "Does, seem a bit over the top, doesn't it?" "Yeah. I think you need to think about a new job if you're that wrapped around her," I said with a frown. "Yeah, I wanna go to bed with you, but not like that." She was silent for almost half an hour before she finally said anything more. "I'm sorry.” She confessed, “ I shouldn't have suggested that. But I will pay your expenses if you take her along." "Send her off to a camp or something. That's what you do with children, right?" "She's not a child," Amy said testily. "Though I have to admit, sometimes she acts like one." "See?" "Okay. Seriously. Will you take her with you?" "It's my VACATION... AWAY FROM HER!" I answered angrily. "Adam. Seriously. What will it take for you to take her along?" "You're not going to give up, are you?" I observed her tunacity. "Nope." "Shit!" I swore quietly. "Okay. I'll take her. On one condition." "What's that?" She asked, with a smile that said she had definitely won, again. "She has to pull her weight. I'm not her servant. I'm not waiting on her and I am most Definitely not going to change what I planned on doing because she came along! I don't care if she reads a book or plays solitaire or whatever. But if she turns into a pain in the ass I'm throwing her in the lake!" "As long as you don't drown her, you have my permission to throw her in at your discretion!" She said, practically beaming at my agreement. "So what does she need to bring?" "Jeans, tees, flannel shirts, that kind of thing." I answered. "I doubt she's even put a pair of jeans on in years, but I'll see what I can find." "I'd still rather take you." I muttered. "Maybe you can some time," she said, surprising me again as she climbed from the seat and slipped back into the passenger cabin. I didn't hear most of the conversation, having to concentrate on talking with approach and the tower as we got closer to landing. What I did hear wasn't particularly flattering. Cabin Therapy "Saturday. 10:00am sharp. If she's not here, I'm leaving her behind." I said quietly to Amy as they got into the waiting car at the airport. "Trust me. She'll be here with bells on." Amy said with a smile. "No matter what she says right now." "If you say so." I answered with a frown, not really wanting to think about how ruined my vacation had become. The Hot August Saturday morning came; and at five minutes to ten, Kim’s car arrived in did just that. Kim and Amy climbed from the back, Kim wearing a black mini-skirt, a red halter top and four inch spike heels. "Oh this is going to be fun." I said to myself with a frown as Amy and Kim walked up. "So, Kim. Do you have something to tell Adam?" Amy prompted. Kim rolled her eyes and bobbed her head side to side as she usually did when she had to do something because she was told to that she really didn't want to do. "Yes. Adam. I'm supposed to do whatever you tell me. Do half the cooking and not mess up your vacation. I'm just on vacation along with you and you're not my servant," she said with a frown. "And?" Amy prompted. "And if I become a pain in your ass you have permission to throw me into the lake," she said with an irritated huff. "Okay. Get on board." I told her as the driver of her car hauled the two big suitcases to the plane. I stowed them in the belly compartment and latched it down tight before climbing the stairs and pulling them up behind me. Kim rarely sat in the front with me, but was seated in the right seat as I crawled over the console into the left seat. It only took a few moments to get the turbines running and spun up, having already warmed them up after doing my ground check. I handed Kim a pair of headphones and put my own on as she adjusted them over her brown curls. "So, is this going to be fun or are you just doing this because you're being paid?" She asked across the electronic circuit. "I'm going on vacation. You're tagging along." I answered before pressing the button. "X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven, ready to taxi." "Roger X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven. You are cleared to taxiway K to runway one six. Hold short and notify." "Roger. Taxiway K hold short and notify." I answered as I pushed the throttles and started the big plane moving forward. We bounced across the rough taxiway for almost three minutes before I could turn and stop in front of the runway. I stopped and did my throttle checks and verified that all my controls worked as required, and notified the tower. "X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven holding at one six." "Roger X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven. You are cleared onto one six. You have a gulf stream coming in about two minutes behind you." "Roger that. I'll be long gone." I answered as I eased the plane onto the five thousand foot runway. I didn't even bother to stop as I pushed the throttles fully forward and spun the props up to speed, the plane quickly accelerating down the tarmac and easily lifting into the air with our light payload. "And we're off," I said to Kim as we accelerated into the air, quickly climbing above the low cloud deck and breaking into the sunshine above. "So what makes this a vacation? Sounds like there isn't anything there," Kim said. "There's a cabin. A boat. A lake and some incredible scenery. What more do you need?" "TV? Cell phones. Electricity. Hot water." "There is electricity, as long as the sun is shining. And as far as hot water, there's a whole lake full. All you have to do is bring in a bucket and put it on the stove," I said with a chuckle. "Oh joy." "Don't start already. We have over four hours," I said to her as I set my GPS to Crested Butte airport. "So what do we do there?" she asked after almost half an hour of silence. "Fish, relax. You do know how to relax, right?" "Well. Amy packed me some books. So I guess I can read some. I suppose I can swim some too." "Maybe. If you don't mind cold water. The lake is probably around sixty five or so this time of year." "Oh joy," she said with a frown. "Don't worry. You can always just lay out on the dock and catch the sun," I told her. "So, neighbors?" "Uh. Closest is about five or six miles away. This is a lake on top of a ski resort. This time of year there's a skeleton crew on at the lodge, but that's about it." "Well. Sounds like a lot of fun," She said with a frown on her face. "Remember what I said about that water temperature?" "Yeah." "Don't make me throw you in as soon as we get there, because I will if I have to!" "Okay," she said with an obvious pout. "So what do you talk about when you're not talking about work?" I asked her. "Well, clothes, nail polish colors, what we should wear to various things. You know, girl stuff." "Girl stuff, huh?" "What do guys talk about?" "Fishing, hunting, sports, that kind of thing." "How much can you talk about fishing?" She asked curiously. "A lot. How much can you talk about what to wear?" "A lot." "How long did it take for you to pick that? What you're wearing." "I don't know. Maybe half an hour." "I see," I answered with a shake of my head. "How long did it take for you to pick what you're wearing?" She asked, looking at my t-shirt and cargo pocket shorts. "About thirty seconds," I answered her. "So, you do realize we're headed up a mountain." "Uh huh." "In a jeep." "Okay." "On a bouncy dirt road." "So?" She said with a shrug. "Your point?" "Just wondering what made you think that was an appropriate outfit." I answered with a chuckle. "What's wrong with it?" "Nothing. Not a thing. This is going to prove to be an interesting trip," I said, shaking my head and chuckling. I looked over at her and saw her pouting in the seat, trying hard not to say anything angry back at me. Three hours and fifty minutes after takeoff we touched down on the single runway at Crested Butte. I taxied to the general aviation area and shut down the turbines, letting them spool down as I got the stairs down. It only took me a few minutes to walk to the parking area and find the jeep that was left for me, an old CJ5 that looked like it'd seen better days. I drove to the plane and loaded the coolers, my duffel bag and fishing gear into the back along with her two big suit cases and then went about buttoning up the plane for short term storage, inserting the engine housing plugs and covers to keep birds and other undesirable critters out of the delicate engines. "Okay. All aboard!" I said as I closed the stairs and turned to walk to the driver's side of the jeep. I climbed in and looked over at Kim sitting in the somewhat ratty seat, trying to pull her mini-skirt down her legs. "You may want to put on your seatbelt. Without doors you'd end up on the pavement by the second corner." "If you say so," she said, pulling the seatbelt across her lap and clipping it. I chuckled and let the clutch out, quickly turning around and heading out toward highway fifty. Windblown. That's how I would have to describe her by the time I pulled off the highway nearly twenty miles down the road. With no top and no doors, the jeep was like a convertible on steroids. The wind whipped around the windshield and blew her hair in every possible direction, making it almost impossible for her to see. When I slowed down to turn onto the gravel road leading up the mountain I could see her frown, but had to admit, she was holding her tongue. I couldn't help but look over at her as we drove up the winding bouncy gravel road. The halter might have covered her large breasts, but it did a horrible job of containing the bouncing mounds, one of her breasts bouncing clear out of the top after a particularly rough jolt. Yeah it was an interesting outfit. I turned onto the dirt track that led even higher up the mountain, leaving the lodge behind us. The gravel road was smooth as silk compared to the two dirt ruts that constituted the road now. I looked over at Kim and actually felt sorry for her. Her short skirt had ridden up her thighs so far I could see the red of her panties beneath, and her tits absolutely refused to stay in the top, both of them now exposed as she held onto the windshield with one hand and the edge of the seat with the other, leaving none free to cover herself back up. I slowed down to bounce over a fallen log and then pulled to a stop in the middle of the road. I shut the engine off and sat back to look at her. "If you want, you can change." I said as she pulled the material of her halter back over her incredibly sexy tits. "No. I'm fine," she said after a few seconds. "I'm not going to disrupt your trip, remember?" "Afraid I'll throw you into the lake?" "Actually, I am." "Well, I'll make an exception. I promise not to throw you into the lake if you want to change your clothes." I said with a chuckle. "Why? You don't like what I'm wearing?" "Kim. I've flown you to how many photo shoots and catwalks? I doubt there's anything that you can wear that would show more than I've already seen." "Really? Why do you have a hardon then?" I looked down at my lap and realized she was right. I had a huge hardon inside my shorts, something I hadn't had looking at her since, well, shortly after I started. Her attractiveness had been completely overridden by her bitchy nasty personality. "Touch " I said. "Just thought I'd offer." "You don't like what you see?" "I didn't say that. You're a multi-million dollar showoff. Let's face it, you'd look good no matter what you wear." "But you don't want my tits bouncing where you can see em?" She asked pointedly. "Kim. I don't care if you wanna go naked. There isn't anyone out here to see except me and Mother Nature. So there isn't any point in being a clothes horse. Wear what you want to be comfortable." "That offer to change still stand?" She asked with her brow furrowed slightly. "Still stands." I answered. "Good," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. She stepped out of the jeep and stood on the grass next to the dirt tracks, wiggling her skirt down over her hips until she could step out of it. She tossed it onto the empty old milk crate I kept wedged between our seats and then reached for the top of her halter, pulling the knot around her neck apart. The material flopped down, exposing her full round tits, each the size of a half melon glued to her chest. Her skin was tanned without a single line and her areola, perfectly round and pink were clearly puckered around her rock hard nipples. She finished undoing the tie behind her back and tossed the top on top of the skirt. She bent over and pulled her four inch heels off and tossed them onto the pile as well. "There," she said sliding back onto the seat and starting to buckle her belt back up. "That all? You don't want to take the panties off too?" "If you insist," she said, reaching down and sliding the tiny red thong panty off her ass and down her legs, tossing it into my lap, leaving her completely naked on the passenger seat. "You're turn." "My turn for what?" "To get undressed. It's only fair, right? I mean you don't expect me to sit here naked all alone, right?" "Why?" I asked a little startled. "Well, look at it from my perspective. I get ogled all day. Hell, there's dozens of guys that have seen me completely naked, including you. They see me when I'm changing, they see me when I'm being posed for a photo, there isn't a part of me that hasn't been exposed to multiple guys. Once, just once, I'd like turnaround to be fair play. If I'm naked, you should be too." I thought about it for a few moments, and without another word, unbuckled my seat belt. I stepped out of the jeep and undid the belt on my shorts and pushed them down, stepping out of them and tossing them on the pile between the seats. I took a breath and a little nervously pushed my boxers down, freeing my engorged cock to stick out its full nine inches at her. I tossed my boxers on the pile and then skimmed off my t-shirt, leaving me naked except for my socks and boots. "Better?" I asked as I slipped into the seat again and buckled the seat belt, my cock sticking straight up in the air as I pushed the clutch in to start the engine together. "Actually, yeah, it is," she said, still looking at my cock and making me nervous. I shifted into gear and took off up the road again bouncing our way up the last mile toward the cabin. I pulled into the clearing in front of the lake and stopped, shutting the engine down and letting Mother Nature bathe us in the sound of the breeze blowing through the soft pine boughs and the birds starting to chirp again after our arrival. "Wow. This is...well, incredible," she said, undoing her seat belt and standing up, holding onto the windshield. She turned to look around, her pussy slightly higher than my face, but only a little more than a foot away, her completely shaved mound and pussy completely exposed as she moved. Her lips were fat and round with only a tiny bit of inner lip peeking out from between them, little bits of moisture glistening between her lips sexily. If my cock had softened any on the remaining drive, the view in front of me ensured that I was once again rock hard. "Yeah, it is." I answered, thinking more about how she looked framed against the sky and trees in front of me than anything else. "You know this wouldn't be a half bad place if I didn't have to shit in a wooden box," she said as she stared at the little outhouse behind the cabin. "And then it's gone." I muttered. For a few minutes she was acting like a real person. Hell, I'd even felt a little sorry for her having no control over who sees her naked. Stupid of me I know. I climbed out of the jeep and started carrying the gear into the small cabin, Kim walking in behind me, seeing the dust and cobwebs that prevailed in the many months of human absence. "Jesus! Doesn't anyone clean around here?" I turned around and looked at her, took two steps and picked her thin frame up in my arms and threw her over my shoulder, clamping her kicking legs to my chest as I walked out the cabin door. She struggled and squirmed, twisting in my arms and trying to hit and kick me to put her down all the way to the rickety wooden dock sticking out about 30 feet from shore, into the lake. It wasn't the most graceful thing I'd ever done, but the squeal as she hit the cold water was worth the several bruises I was sure were going to pop up for my effort. I walked to the shore and stood there, waiting for her to walk naked from the lake, her hair now laying in a flat mat, water streaming from her hair and body. She walked up the shore staring daggers at me. "Bastard," she muttered. To be continued. By m_storyman_x, for Literotica.

Anime boobs, more fall 2025 shows & video games. What more do you need? Join the AniTAY crew to find out as we chat more about the Fall 2025 Anime Season and our video game consoles!This episode's members: Hybridmink, Requiem & Marquan with Marquan handling the editing duties.The AniTAY Podcast is a bi-weekly podcast brought to you every other Wednesday. It is available on all your favorite podcast services! If you like us, be sure to subscribe to your favorite service and give us 5 stars! Your support is much appreciated and will help us grow and continue to provide this style of content.Intro: 0:00:00–0:01:16Housekeeping: 0:01:17–0:06:15The Chainsawman Movie: 0:06:16–0:16:32 (to avoid spoilers jump to 0:16:32)ShowsTojima-kun Wants To Be A Kamen Rider — 0:16:32–0:21:39Gachiakuta — 0:21:39–0:26:42Sanda — 0:26:43–0:31:00One Punch Man S3–0:31:00–0:35:20Campfire Cooking S2–0:35:26–0:38:25Ranma ½ S2–0:38:25–0:40:22My Gift Lvl 9999 Unlimited Gacha — 0:40:25–0:42:48News — 0:42:49–0:56:22Question of the Week — What is your favorite video game console? — 0:56:22–01:26:28End — 01:26:28–01:28:11Missed the previous episode of the AniTAY Podcast? Check it out here: https://open.spotify.com/episode/7KoboRDb47Yt2TyP8ieMTE?si=as0g8PgXSE6lsK6pOcs-PQItinerary

Andy’s Brave New World: Part 5 Ranger Andy and Crystal. Based on a post by the hospital. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Day 8, Afternoon Andy leaned over the dining room table, studying the building plans Daniela had spread out. The paper was covered in neat handwritten notes and carefully drawn lines. From somewhere upstairs came the sound of drawers opening and closing as Sarah continued her self-assigned task of sorting through the consulate's belongings. "I think these spots here are important," Daniela said, pointing to several areas just inside the perimeter fence. Her finger traced along the paper, leaving a slight smudge. "I'm pretty sure anyone climbing over would probably land in these areas. The fence is lower here, and there's better cover from the street." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "We could hide the mines under some leaves and dirt." "That makes sense," Andy nodded, examining the spots she'd indicated. "But we need to make sure we don't place anything outside our actual property line. We don't want to hurt random people just walking by." "Yeah, of course," Daniela said quickly. "Dad always said mines are only for protecting your own property, not for random areas." She pulled out another hand-drawn diagram showing the yard. "I was thinking we could also put some here behind the bushes, and maybe here near the side entrance. Those seem like places someone might try to sneak in." Her finger moved to another rough map of the surrounding blocks. "And maybe we should think about these spots across the street too? There are some good hiding places over there. If someone wanted to watch the building or set up some kind of attack, they'd probably use these spots." Andy shook his head. "Let's hold off on anything outside our perimeter for now. I think that's going a bit far." He studied her markings. "But it's good thinking to identify those positions. Keep that map in case things get worse." From upstairs came a loud thump, followed by Sarah's voice: "Who needs seventeen copies of the same trade agreement? This is ridiculous!" Andy smiled slightly, then turned back to Daniela. "We'll need warning signs too. Something that's clear but doesn't seem too aggressive. Maybe just 'Warning: Security Perimeter'?" "Yeah, and we could add 'Please Use Front Entrance' with an arrow," Daniela suggested, already making notes in the margin of her diagram. "Just plain black text on white background would probably work best." "Good idea. We want to keep people away from the dangerous areas without making it seem like we're paranoid." Andy studied her placement plan again. "This looks really well thought out. Go ahead and set them up like you've drawn here." "Okay, will do." Andy watched as she added a few more notes to her diagram, struck by the strange contrast; a teenager calmly planning deadly defenses as if discussing a school project. "Just be really careful when you're placing them, alright?" he said. Daniela gave him a look that clearly said she wasn't an idiot. "I know. I'm not going to blow myself up." A crash echoed from somewhere upstairs, followed by Sarah's voice: "Oops! Just knocked over some really ugly vases. No great loss!" Andy chuckled. "Sounds like the great consulate purge is going well. Do you need any help with the warning signs?" "No sir, I've got it," Daniela replied sharply, then caught herself. "I mean, no thanks, Andy. I can handle it." "I'll make the signs first," she added, gathering her papers. "Then place the mines after it gets dark. Less chance of anyone seeing what I'm doing that way." Day 8, Late Afternoon Andy entered the study. Crystal knelt on the floor beside the large map she'd removed from its frame, her silk pajamas flowing gracefully around her curves as she leaned forward to make another notation. The soft fabric clung and shifted with her movements, the absence of a bra evident as her full tits swayed gently. Her honey-blonde hair fell in perfect waves past her shoulders as she alternated between checking her phone and marking the map. Sensing his presence, she looked up through her lashes, subtly arching her back as she straightened. "Good to see you, sir," she whispered, her blue eyes warm. "I hope the trip to the Presidio went well." She gestured at the map spread before her. "I'm mostly done here, I've mapped out all the businesses and their types within reasonable distance." The sound of furniture being dragged across the floor came from above, followed by muffled thuds as Sarah continued her thorough sweep of the building. "Good job," Andy said, moving closer to examine her work. Crystal shifted slightly, making room for him while ensuring her silk-draped figure remained in his line of sight. Her hard nipples pressed visibly against the thin fabric as she leaned forward again. "Any standouts?" "Several, sir," she replied softly, pointing to various markings. "These three are large grocery stores, Whole Foods, Trader Joe's, and a local market. They're our best bet for practical supplies." Her finger traced along the paper. "And there's a medical supply store here that might still have inventory." "Good." Andy turned to leave, but found himself unable to tear his eyes off of Crystal's beautiful, kneeling form. Vivid images of her proposition to him the night before flashed in his mind's eye. "Crystal, meet me at the sauna downstairs at 10pm." "Tonight, sir?" said Crystal, looking up at him a little apprehensively. "Yes, it's time for you to fulfill your end of the bargain." Her gorgeous face broke into a warm and confident smile. "Yes, sir. I'm looking forward to it." Day 8, Evening ";and the whole parade ground has been transformed," Sarah explained animatedly, gesturing with her fork. The setting sun painted the bay in golden hues behind them as they sat around their makeshift dinner table on the roof. "There are all these tents set up, really nice ones too, like the expensive outdoor brands. And they've got these designated areas for different things, medical station, trading post, even a charging station someone rigged up with solar panels. There's cell signal all over too" "Are they managing to keep order?" Daniela asked, focused on the practical aspects. "Actually, yes! There's this woman, Meg Lunn, she used to lead wilderness expeditions. She's sort of naturally taken charge of coordinating everything." Sarah leaned forward enthusiastically. "She seems amazing at it." She turned to Andy. "You had quite a discussion with her about the future plans, right?" Andy set down his fork thoughtfully. "Yeah. She's very competent. Politically savvy too, understands the importance of building legitimate authority through actual results, not just claiming power for its own sake." He glanced around the table. "She's coming by tomorrow morning to use our shower and have some coffee. We should make her feel welcome, she'll be a valuable ally." "What do you mean, ally?" Crystal asked, leaning forward with interest. "It looks like they might be forming some kind of semi-formal council for the Presidio soon," Andy explained. "And Meg will certainly be on it." The sharp pop of a can opening interrupted them. Andy pulled back the lid of his canned pineapple, and Sarah's eyes darted to the sound. Their gazes met, and she bit back a grin before she continued. "Oh! And Daniela, there's this former Army sergeant, Guillermo Herrera, who's really interested in meeting you. He's trying to organize some kind of militia, and when Andy mentioned your training, he specifically asked about you." "And there's Dr. Wilson running the medical station," Sarah added. "She's;" she paused, choosing her words carefully, "intense, but in a good way? She's starting training classes, I signed up for Tuesday! And they've got Diana from the Forest Service organizing hunting parties because they know we can't live on scavenged food forever." "Yeah" noted Andy. "I expect these three to end up on the council too. Well Diana maybe, I don't see her playing the political game as much, she seems more of a folksy old hunter to me than someone who cares about managing a settlement. "What about you?" Crystal asked softly. Andy smiled slightly. "I'd like to be on it, if all goes according to plan. We haven't done much yet, but we made a good impression today, bringing medicines, offering help, showing we want to be part of the solution." He took another bite of pineapple. "People remember who stepped up early." Day 8, Night Andy slipped into the sauna, where Crystal was waiting for him, seated on one of the low benches. She had set up several camping lanterns, their soft yellow light casting a warm glow across the room and highlighting the curves of her body. Crystal wore the same lingerie from the previous night. A black lace bra cupped her full tits, pushing them up and creating a deep cleavage. The material was semi-transparent, allowing glimpses of her rosy nipples beneath. A matching garter belt encircled her narrow waist, the straps leading down to sheer black stockings that clung to her long legs. High-cut lace panties completed the ensemble, the dark fabric a stark contrast against her pale skin. Her face was a picture of classic beauty. Large, bright blue eyes looked up at him, framed by long lashes. High cheekbones gave her face an elegant structure, leading down to full, pouty lips painted a soft pink. Her honey-blonde hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders, framing her face perfectly. "Please sit down, sir," Crystal said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She patted the wooden bench beside her, the movement causing her tits to jiggle slightly within their lacy confines. As Andy sat, the bench creaked slightly under his weight. Crystal immediately shifted closer, her bare thigh pressing against his clothed one. Without hesitation, she reached out and began rubbing his crotch through his pants. Her delicate fingers traced the outline of his rapidly hardening cock. "Before we get started," she purred, her breath warm against his ear, "I was thinking we could discuss the terms of our arrangement." Her hand never stopped its ministrations, applying just enough pressure to be tantalizing without providing real relief. "The terms?" Andy asked, his voice slightly strained. He could feel the heat of her body next to him, smell the light floral scent of her perfume. "Yes," Crystal nodded, her fingers now tracing circles over the bulge in his pants. "Well, for starters, Crystal's body is available to you day and night. Its mouth, tits, and pussy are yours." As she spoke, her free hand moved to her own tit, cupping it through the lace of her bra. The action drew Andy's eyes to her chest, watching as she gently squeezed the soft flesh. Andy swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. He had expected that they'd maybe hook up a few times, but here this beautiful woman was offering herself to him almost as some kind of sex slave. The combination of Crystal's words and actions was making it difficult to think clearly. "I see," he managed. "For whatever I want?" "Yes, sir, more or less," Crystal replied. Her hand on his crotch paused, resting on his now fully erect cock. She looked directly into his eyes, her gaze intense. "I would just add a few restrictions. First, nothing too extreme, please. I don't mind a little roughness but nothing that will leave a mark. And nothing to do with excrement, or sharing. Crystal's body is yours, not anyone else's." Her hand resumed its movement, this time with more pressure. Andy could feel the warmth of her palm through the fabric of his pants. "That's fine," Andy agreed, his voice rougher than he intended. "I'm not into those things either." Crystal's face lit up with a smile, her blue eyes sparkling in the lantern light. "Crystal's body is grateful to hear that, sir," she said, her voice warm with what seemed like genuine relief. Andy's eyes roamed over her body, taking in every curve and shadow highlighted by the soft lighting. "I want to see Crystal's body," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Yes, sir," Crystal responded immediately. Crystal stood, her body swaying gently. Her hips moved in slow, hypnotic circles. She reached behind her back, fingers working at the clasp of her bra. With a soft click, it came undone. She let the straps slide down her arms, the lace falling away to reveal her tits. Her tits were full and perky, perfectly proportioned C-cups. They sat high on her chest, defying gravity. Her nipples were a soft pink, already erect in the cool air of the sauna. Crystal cupped her tits, lifting them slightly as if presenting them to Andy. She ran her thumbs over her nipples, causing them to harden further. As she continued her dance, Crystal spoke. "You can also decide what clothes Crystal's body has on, if you want to, sir. If there's anything you want to add to my current wardrobe we can also go scavenging for it." Her hands trailed down her body as she spoke, fingertips tracing the curves of her waist and hips. Andy watched, unable to look away, as Crystal unhooked her garter belt. It fell to the floor with a soft rustle. Her hands moved to her panties, thumbs hooking into the waistband. She paused there, teasing. "I see," Andy said, a thought occurring to him. "What about tattoos or piercings?" Crystal stopped her dance, her thumbs still tucked into her panties. "Hmm. Never been something I've done myself except my ears," she mused. After a moment, she resumed her movement, slowly sliding the panties down her long legs. "I guess I'm open to it, but I'd like the option to say no to anything you propose." As the panties hit the floor, Andy's eyes were drawn to Crystal's newly revealed pussy. It was completely hairless, the skin smooth and pale. Her outer lips were plump and light pink, forming a perfect innie. They were closed tightly, hiding the deeper pink of her inner folds from view. The top of her slit dipped inward slightly, hinting at where her clit was nestled. Crystal ran a finger along her slit, the touch causing her to shiver slightly and her lips to part just a bit, revealing a glimpse of glistening moisture within. She then turned slowly, giving Andy a view of her backside. Her ass was perfectly round and just the right size, not too big, not too small. It was the kind of ass that would look great in tight jeans, fill out a bikini bottom perfectly, or catch the eye when naked like now. The cheeks were firm and smooth, with a gentle curve leading from her lower back down to her thighs. Crystal looked over her shoulder at Andy, a playful smile on her lips. She gave her ass a little shake, the flesh jiggling enticingly but quickly settling back into its perfect shape. Turning back to face him, Crystal's hands roamed her body. She cupped her tits again, lifting and squeezing them. One hand trailed down her flat stomach to her pussy. She rubbed herself for a moment, her middle finger disappearing between her lips. A soft gasp escaped her as she touched herself. Andy felt his mouth go dry at the sight. His eyes roamed Crystal's body, taking in every curve, every smooth expanse of skin. She truly was a vision of perfection, her body seeming to glow in the soft light of the lanterns. Crystal, now fully nude, knelt before Andy. Her tits swayed slightly as she moved, nipples erect in the cool air. She reached for his pants, slender fingers working at the button and zipper. "And speaking of saying no," she added, her voice soft but clear, "Sometimes Crystal's body might be a little tired or reluctant, or might just be pretending because it's fun. I give you consent to force yourself onto Crystal's body in those cases, unless I say a safe word that we decide on." Andy nodded, his eyes fixed on Crystal's hands as they freed his erection from his underwear. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, warm and soft against his skin. She leaned forward, her full lips parting. Her tongue, pink and wet, flicked out to lick the tip of his cock. Andy inhaled sharply at the contact. Crystal's blue eyes looked up at him as she slowly took him into her mouth. Her lips stretched around his girth, creating a tight seal. The warmth and wetness of her mouth enveloped him. Her tongue pressed against the underside of his shaft as she took him deeper. Andy felt the back of her throat and Crystal paused, adjusting before taking him further. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, creating an intense pressure around his cock. After several long moments, Crystal pulled back. A thin strand of saliva connected her lips to the tip of his cock as she continued stroking him with her hand. "In exchange, sir," she said, her voice slightly husky, "I ask that you protect me and take care of me. Even if I'm useless to your survival otherwise, I'd like you to make sure that I'm fed, clothed, and safe. And if circumstances become difficult, I want you to prioritize me even over the others in our group." "I can do that," Andy agreed, not considering the implications, his eyes fixed on the movement of her hand on his shaft. "Great," Crystal smiled, her white teeth flashing. "Shall we finalize the agreement?" She lay back on the floor, her honey-blonde hair fanning out around her head. Her tits settled on her chest, still perky despite her reclined position. She spread her legs, revealing her hairless pussy, the lips slightly parted and glistening with moisture. Andy positioned himself between her thighs. The heat emanating from her core felt like a tangible force against his skin, drawing him closer. He gripped his cock, now throbbing with anticipation, and aligned it with her entrance. The visual contrast was striking; the swollen purple-red head of his cock against the delicate pink of her outer lips. He rubbed the tip along her slit, feeling the slick wetness coat him. Each pass of his cockhead against her opening sent electric tingles through his groin. Crystal looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and expectant, lips slightly parted, her chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. Slowly, Andy began to push inside her. There was a moment of resistance as her entrance yielded to him; a brief tension where her body seemed to hesitate before accepting him. The initial penetration sent a shock of pleasure up his spine as the sensitive head of his cock was enveloped in wet, silky heat. Her outer lips stretched around his girth, clinging to him as he pressed forward. The feeling was indescribable; a combination of warmth, wetness, and a gripping pressure that seemed to pull him deeper. As he sank further into her, he felt the subtle texture changes inside her pussy; the ridged entrance giving way to velvety smoothness, then the rippled sensation of her inner walls. Crystal was incredibly wet, her arousal making his entry smooth despite her tightness. Her body gripped him like a glove tailored perfectly to his dimensions, both yielding and resistant at the same time. Each inch he gained rewarded him with new sensations; subtle changes in pressure, temperature, and texture that his cockhead registered with exquisite sensitivity. By the time he was fully sheathed inside her, Andy felt almost dizzy with pleasure. The base of his cock was nestled against her outer lips, his pubic bone pressing against her clit, and he could feel the subtle pulse of her internal muscles adjusting to accommodate him. The wet heat of her surrounded him completely, creating a perfect seal that seemed to both trap and welcome him. He paused there, savoring the all-encompassing sensation of being fully engulfed in her body. As they began to move together, Crystal's eyes fluttered closed, her head tilting back slightly. "Look at me," Andy whispered, his voice rougher than he intended. "Look me in the eyes while you submit to me." Crystal's eyes snapped open, meeting his gaze with startling intensity. Andy could see flecks of green in her blue irises as he thrust into her, the color seeming to shift with each movement. Her pupils were dilated with arousal, giving her a slightly wild look. Her tits, perfect pale mounds topped with hardened pink nipples, bounced with each thrust. The jiggle of her flesh was hypnotic, the softness contrasting with the firmness of her erect nipples. Andy smiled and leaned down to kiss her, his lips pressing against hers, tasting a hint of mint from her earlier tooth-brushing. She smiled back when he pulled away, her expression now more relaxed, almost smug. Feeling she was a little too at ease, Andy raised his hand and brought it down on her tit with a soft smack. The sensation against his palm was exquisite; the initial firm resistance of her tit giving way to yielding softness. The flesh jiggled at the impact, sending ripples across the creamy skin. A pink handprint formed almost immediately, the color blooming like a rose against her pale complexion. "Your boobs really are amazing," he said, watching them move, fascinated by how they settled back into their perfect shape. "Thank you, sir," Crystal replied, her voice breathy and lower than normal. "They are all yours to play with." The vibration of her voice seemed to travel through her body, creating subtle sensations that Andy could feel around his embedded cock. Andy started with slow, deep strokes. The drag of his cock against her inner walls created a friction that sent sparks of pleasure radiating outward from his groin. He could feel every ridge and fold of Crystal's pussy as he moved; the slight roughness near her entrance, the smoother, deeper recesses, the way certain spots seemed to grip him more tightly than others. Her inner walls clenched around him rhythmically, creating waves of pressure that traveled along his shaft. The contrast between the cool air on his exposed shaft when he pulled back and the engulfing heat when he pushed forward heightened every sensation. Crystal's breath hitched with each thrust, creating little puffs of warmth against his neck as he leaned over her, her eyes half-lidded but still locked on his. Gradually, he picked up the pace. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room; wet, slapping noises that grew louder as their movements became more vigorous. Their heavy breathing and occasional moans created an erotic soundtrack that seemed to urge him on. Crystal's tits bounced more dramatically with each impact, the flesh quivering with each collision. Beads of sweat began to form on her chest, making her skin glisten in the soft light. Andy could smell their mingled scents; the clean sweat of exertion mixed with the musky, intimate aroma of her arousal. He shifted his angle slightly, pushing deeper, and Crystal gasped, her back arching off the floor, presenting her tits even more prominently. "Oh god, yes," she breathed, her fingers digging into his shoulders. The slight pain of her nails biting into his skin only heightened his pleasure, adding a sharp counterpoint to the soft wetness enveloping his cock. Andy maintained this new angle, enjoying the way Crystal's face contorted with pleasure; the flutter of her eyelids, the way her nostrils flared slightly with each sharp intake of breath, the reddening of her cheeks. Her lips, now swollen from their kisses, parted with soft moans that escaped with each thrust. He could feel a spot inside her that seemed particularly sensitive, a slightly rougher area that made her inner muscles clamp down harder when he dragged his cockhead across it. He leaned down to kiss her, his tongue pushing into her mouth, tasting the sweetness within. Crystal responded eagerly, her tongue sliding against his, her breath hot and quick against his face. After a while, Andy slowed his pace again, opting for long, deep strokes that made Crystal whimper. The change in rhythm allowed him to feel every minute detail of her pussy; the way she tightened around the ridge of his cockhead each time he pulled back, almost as if trying to prevent his withdrawal, the subtle spasms of her deeper muscles when he pushed all the way in. The inside of her was impossibly soft yet gripping, wet but not sloppy, hot enough to make him feel like he was melting into her. Crystal's hips began to move in counter to his thrusts, the slight rotation of her pelvis taking him even deeper and changing the pressure points inside her. "More," Crystal pleaded, her voice breathy and ragged at the edges. "Harder, sir. Please." Tiny beads of sweat had formed along her hairline, making the tendrils of blonde hair there stick to her skin. Andy obliged, gradually increasing his speed and force. The physical impact of their bodies meeting created vibrations that traveled through both of them. He could feel the trembling in her thighs as they wrapped around him, the quivering of her stomach muscles with each thrust. Crystal's moans grew louder, higher pitched, almost desperate. Her face flushed a deep pink that spread down her neck to her chest, a visible sign of her arousal. Her eyes were wide now, the blue almost swallowed by the black of her dilated pupils, filled with a mixture of pain and ecstasy. The sight of her beneath him; this perfectly beautiful woman coming undone through his actions; was almost as intoxicating as the physical sensations. "Yes, yes," she cried out, her voice strained and cracking. "Don't stop, sir. Use Crystal's body." Her internal muscles were beginning to contract in irregular patterns; little fluttering pulses that signaled her approaching climax. The pace became frantic. Andy pounded into Crystal, the force of his thrusts shifting her body slightly on the floor. The impact created a percussive rhythm, punctuated by Crystal's cries. Despite the intensity, she continued to encourage him, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, heels digging into his lower back. The pressure drove him even deeper, allowing him to feel parts of her that had been unreachable before. The tightness at the very depths of her created an intense pressure around the head of his cock that was almost overwhelming. Andy felt pressure building at the base of his spine, a familiar tightening that signaled his approaching orgasm. His balls drew up closer to his body, heaviness and tension building within them. The muscles in his thighs and ass tensed as he fought to maintain the rhythm that was bringing them both pleasure. "I'm gonna cum," he managed to gasp out, the words coming between labored breaths. "Yes, cum inside Crystal's pussy, sir," she urged, her voice shaky but insistent. A fine sheen of sweat now covered her body, making her skin slick under his hands. Her ankles locked behind his back, pulling him even deeper, the pressure almost painful in its intensity. "Make your ownership official." Her inner walls were contracting more consistently now, rippling along his length in waves that seemed designed to extract his seed. With a few final, powerful thrusts, Andy reached his climax. The sensation started as a tightening at the base of his spine, then exploded outward through his groin. His cock pulsed inside her, each contraction sending jets of hot semen deep into her pussy. The release was overwhelming; waves of pleasure radiating from his core throughout his entire body. Each spurt was accompanied by an intense contraction that made the head of his cock almost painfully sensitive as it pushed against her innermost depths. Crystal shuddered at the sensation of warmth flooding her, her body responding to the physical and psychological impact of his release. Her own pussy clenched down rhythmically, the internal muscles contracting in powerful waves that milked his cock, squeezing and releasing in a primal effort to draw every drop from him. Andy could feel the subtle temperature change as his warm semen mixed with her natural wetness, creating a slick, silky environment that continued to caress him even as his thrusts slowed and eventually stopped. The intensity left Andy breathless. He collapsed onto Crystal, feeling the softness of her tits against his chest, her rapid heartbeat matching his own. Crystal's body trembled beneath him, aftershocks of pleasure running through her as her pussy continued to grip him tightly. As the waves of pleasure washed over them both, Crystal's arms wrapped around Andy, holding him close. Her breath came in short gasps against his ear, her body still quivering slightly from the intensity of their coupling. Andy and Crystal lay together for a few moments, their bodies intertwined. Andy could feel the warmth of Crystal's pussy still enveloping him, her inner walls occasionally twitching around his softening cock. He savored the sensation of being sheathed inside her, feeling the connection between them. Slowly, Andy began to pull out. The movement sent shivers through both of them, the friction of his cock sliding against her sensitive walls creating an agonizingly pleasurable sensation. As the head of his cock finally slipped free, a small trickle of their combined fluids followed. Crystal remained on her back, her legs spread, watching Andy with half-lidded eyes. Her submissive posture, coupled with the sight of his cum slowly leaking from her pink, swollen pussy, stirred something primal within Andy. "Get on your knees," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative as he stood up. Crystal complied, moving a bit unsteadily. She gripped Andy's leg to steady herself, her small hand warm against his skin. Once on her knees, she looked up at him expectantly, her blue eyes wide and eager. She began to lean forward, her full lips parting slightly as if to take his cock into her mouth. Before she could, Andy's hand shot out, gripping the back of her head firmly. With his other hand, he took hold of his cock, still wet and glistening with their combined juices. Without warning, he began to rub it across Crystal's face. Crystal let out a surprised yelp that quickly turned into a moan of pleasure. Andy started at her left cheek, dragging his cock across her soft skin. He could feel the delicate curve of her cheekbone, the slight bump of her nose, the plumpness of her lips as he moved to her right cheek. The degrading act clearly aroused Crystal. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned into Andy's touch, savoring the feeling of his cock smearing their juices across her face. Andy enjoyed the varying sensations, the smoothness of her cheeks, the slight resistance of her nose, the wetness of her parted lips as he passed over them. Getting more into it, Crystal opened her eyes, locking her gaze with Andy's. Her face was now a mess, shiny with their combined fluids. She reached down between her legs, gathering some of the cum that had leaked out of her. Bringing her hand to her mouth, she licked her fingers clean, swallowing with a satisfied smile. Unprompted, Crystal moved her face forward. Her features were now coated with a sheen of their juices, her mascara slightly smudged, giving her a debauched look. She slid Andy's cock up her face until she reached the junction where his shaft met his balls. Crystal began to lick at this spot eagerly, her tongue warm and wet against Andy's sensitive skin. A good amount of their combined fluids had collected here, and she lapped it up hungrily. As she worked, some of the mixture smeared onto her nose, adding to the mess on her face. Her hand came up to gently caress Andy's balls. They were slightly swollen and tender from his intense orgasm, and her soft touch sent conflicting sensations of pleasure and soreness through him. Crystal seemed to sense this, her ministrations becoming even gentler as she continued to clean him with her tongue. Finally, Crystal pulled back, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths. Her face was flushed, a mixture of exertion and arousal coloring her cheeks. "Wow, sir," she said, her voice slightly hoarse. "I had a feeling you were dominant but I didn't realize you'd be this dominant." She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and sparkling. "Sit down and I'll clean us off now?" Andy sat on the wooden bench, the warm surface a contrast to his cooling skin. Crystal scooted forward on her knees, the movement causing her tits to sway gently. "Seems like you didn't mind," Andy observed, watching her intently. Crystal began her cleanup, using a delicate finger to collect the mixture of their fluids from her face. She slipped the finger into her mouth, her full lips wrapping around it as she sucked it clean. "Yes, I'm technically a switch but," she paused, savoring the taste before swallowing. Her tongue darted out to catch a stray drop at the corner of her mouth. "I'm happy to suppress my dominant side, if that's what you want." She looked at her hand, still glistening with their combined juices. "Man, you really made a mess out of me, huh?" "You look beautiful," Andy said, his eyes roaming over her face, taking in the sight of her disheveled hair and the remnants of their activities still visible on her skin. Crystal made a playful face, wrinkling her nose slightly, before leaning forward to clean Andy's now limp cock with her mouth. She worked carefully, her warm tongue laving over his sensitive skin. She took him fully into her mouth, her lips meeting the base of his shaft, before slowly pulling back. As she did, she sucked hard, her cheeks hollowing with the effort. Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock in a way that made Andy's legs twitch involuntarily with pleasure. "Ok, all done," Crystal announced, sitting back on her heels and looking up at Andy expectantly. Andy's eyes dropped to the floor beneath Crystal. "Actually, I think you missed a spot there," he said, pointing to a small pool of cum that had dripped from her pussy and collected on the wooden planks. Crystal's gaze followed his finger. "Ah yes, thank you sir," she said, her tone one of exaggerated gratitude. She lowered her face to the floor, her ass rising in the air as she extended her tongue. Delicately, she licked his cum from the wood, her pink tongue contrasting sharply with the dark surface. She then turned back to Andy, opening her mouth to display the pearly fluid on her tongue. With a flirty wink, she closed her mouth and swallowed, her throat visibly moving as she did so. "Delicious," she said cheerfully, licking her lips. "You're really up for almost anything, huh?" Andy asked, a mix of admiration and curiosity in his voice. Crystal nodded, her expression becoming more serious. "Yes, well, I told you the things I don't want you to make me do. Outside of that," she paused, reaching out to stroke Andy's cock affectionately, her touch light and gentle on his oversensitive skin, "the way I see it, the better I please you, the more likely you are to protect me and take care of me." Her hand continued its gentle ministrations as she spoke. "If that means having to endure a bit of degradation and cum-play, that's fine." "Endure, huh?" Andy asked, raising an eyebrow. "So you're saying you don't actually enjoy it?" Crystal's demeanor shifted subtly. Her eyes widened slightly and her posture became more exaggerated; back arched to push out her tits, shoulders pulled back, head tilted submissively. Her lips formed a perfect pout as she spoke. "Oh no, sir! Crystal's body loves whatever you do to it," she cooed, her voice taking on a breathy, high-pitched quality that hadn't been present before. Her hand on his cock moved in an overly theatrical manner, her wrist twisting with unnecessary flourish. "Every drop of your cum is like nectar from the gods. Crystal's body was made to be your perfect little fuck-toy." The performance was skillful but noticeably artificial; like watching an actress play the role of "submissive girl" rather than genuine submission. Andy laughed, shaking his head. "No seriously, I'm asking because I want to know." He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. His thumb lingered for a moment, wiping away a smear of fluid from her cheekbone. Crystal's posture relaxed at his touch, the exaggerated submissiveness falling away. Her voice returned to its normal register as she looked up at him with curiosity. "Why?" she asked, her hand stilling on his cock. "Well, one because I do want this to be enjoyable for you too," Andy explained, his expression sincere. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees to bring his face closer to hers. "And, well, making you do things you don't really want to do and watching you put up with them for my sake is kind of hot." Crystal's eyes widened slightly at his admission. Her lips parted as she considered his words, then curved into a small, understanding smile. "I see. In that case I will be totally honest." She sat back on her heels, thoughtful. While she contemplated, her fingers resumed their gentle exploration of his genitals, this time moving lower to massage his balls with feather-light touches. The casual intimacy of the gesture contrasted with her serious expression. "I mean, it depends on what exactly but overall it was fine," she said finally. Her eyes unfocused slightly as she mentally reviewed their encounter. "Stripping, blowing you, getting railed, all hot. Loved it when you made me look you in the eyes and when you came inside of me." As she spoke, her cheeks flushed slightly, either from the memory or from her continued nakedness in the warm sauna room. The lantern light caught the sheen of sweat on her collarbone. "Yes about that," Andy said, suddenly serious. He shifted on the wooden bench, the slats creaking beneath him. "You're on some kind of birth control I assume?" Crystal's hand froze momentarily. She looked up at him with wide eyes, her expression solemn. "Umm, no, but I'm a big believer in the power of prayer." "What??" Andy jerked upright, alarm clear on his face. Crystal's serious expression cracked, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. She giggled, the sound light and playful as she gave his balls a gentle squeeze. "Got you. No, I'm on an I U D." Andy exhaled with relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. He laughed, running a hand through his short hair. "You got me. Wouldn't be a great time to have kids right now." "No," Crystal agreed, shifting her position. Her knees had begun to redden from pressing against the hard wooden floor. She leaned forward to rest her cheek against Andy's thigh, her breath warm against his skin as she spoke. "Anyway." She paused, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the inside of his thigh. "Ok, rubbing your cock on my face after was objectively disgusting but also super-hot. I don't know, something about the dominance, and the juices, and doing it to my face. And--" Andy raised his hand to stop her, his fingers nearly touching her lips. "Hold on, I'm curious. Where do you think that comes from?" Crystal tilted her head, her expression quizzical. She absently licked her lips, tasting the faint saltiness that still lingered there. "You mean why do I find it hot?" "Yeah," Andy nodded, his gaze intent on her face. "Umm, well." Crystal's eyes dropped to his cock, which she began to stroke again with slow, contemplative movements. Her thumb occasionally circled the sensitive head, making Andy twitch. "In some ways it's like you're marking me as yours when you do that, and like, all of our juices remind me of how hot our sex was and that you just came inside of me." She looked up, making eye contact as her hand continued its ministrations. "And then I guess there's an aspect of like, I know that most girls won't let you do this to them, so when you do this to me I'm giving you a special treat that should make you want to keep me around?" Her voice lilted upward, making it a question. "Maybe. I don't know. It's just hot, ok?" Her cheeks had reddened during her explanation, but she maintained eye contact, her blue eyes clear and honest. "Duly noted," Andy said with a small smile, his hand moving to stroke her hair appreciatively. His fingers combed through the blonde strands, working out small tangles as he went. "And the cum-play stuff?" Crystal shrugged, her bare shoulders rising and falling gracefully. The movement made her tits sway slightly. "Eh, that was ok. I'm not super into it." She leaned forward suddenly, her pink tongue darting out to give his cock a quick, gentle lick before continuing. "I guess there's something kind of hot again about you ordering me to eat it off the floor, just because that's so, like, dirty, and it can be fun to act a little depraved." She wrinkled her nose slightly. "The taste isn't great, to be honest, sir." Andy laughed, the sound echoing slightly in the wooden sauna. His hand still played with her hair, twirling a strand around his finger. "Could have fooled me! Sorry about that, yeah I'm planning to try to eat more fruit." Crystal beamed up at him, her smile bright and genuine. She leaned forward to nuzzle against his softening cock affectionately, her lips brushing against it as she spoke. "Thank you sir, your little cum-slut would really appreciate that." A pause filled the room, broken only by their breathing and the occasional creak of the wooden bench as Andy shifted his weight. The lantern light flickered slightly, casting moving shadows across Crystal's naked form. "You know," Andy admitted, his voice lower, more intimate, "I think it's kind of hot both ways, both pretending to enjoy it and if you show me that you don't like it but you're doing it anyway for my benefit. Feel free to mix it up sometimes." Crystal lifted her head from his thigh, her blue eyes meeting his. "Yes sir," she said simply, her voice warm and sincere. Her hand gave his cock one final, gentle squeeze before releasing it. She glanced up at him, tucking a strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear. "Is that all, sir?" "Yes," Andy nodded, giving her an appreciative smile. "Thank you." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "Would you like to go upstairs and cuddle in my room? Sleep together tonight?" His tone softened, becoming less commanding. "Not an order, just if you want to." Crystal considered his offer, her expression thoughtful. She ran her hands along her bare thighs, as if suddenly aware of her nakedness in the cooling sauna. After a moment, her face brightened with a genuine smile. "Yes, I'd really appreciate that," she replied, the relief in her voice subtle but unmistakable. Based on a post by the hospital, for Literotica.

654. Today we post our presentation on Liberty in Louisiana at the 2025 Louisiana Studies Conference. Liberty in Louisiana by James Workman is the oldest known extant play about Louisiana. Workman wrote the play in 1803 with the goal of supporting the impending Louisiana Purchase. This was Workman's sole venture in writing drama; he mostly wrote political essays. This time, he thought he could reach a wider audience with a play, but he still had a political objective. His goal was to demonstrate the superior legal system of the United States, which would free Louisiana from the tyranny of the Old World and replace it with the New World's Republic of Freedom. Workman had a ready theme to use in his play — the Black Legend of Spanish Law. Spanish law was denigrated by other European countries.  Its Civil Law, modelled on old Roman Law, had the best reputation, but it was slow, secret, incredibly complex, and open to corruption. The Criminal Law was markedly worse in the popular imagination. It was not seen as ancient Roman but as excessively Medieval and barbaric. Spain used several forms of capital punishment, mutilation and other corporal punishments, and forced labor. Worst of all was Canon Law — the infamous Spanish Inquisition. The corrupt judge Don Bertoldo embodies this old, corrupt systems that the Americans end. Now available: Liberty in Louisiana: A Comedy. The oldest play about Louisiana, author James Workman wrote it as a celebration of the Louisiana Purchase. Now it is back in print for the first time in 221 years. Order your copy today! This week in the Louisiana Anthology. Pisatuntema. Myths of the Louisiana Choctaw. "Hashok Okwa Hui'ga."     There is a certain spirit that lives in marshy places — often along the edges of swamps. It is never seen during the day, only at night, and even then its heart is the only part visible. Its heart appears as a small ball of fire that may be seen moving about, a short distance above the surface of the water.     At night, when a person is passing along a trail or going through the woods, and meets the Hashok Okwa Hui'ga he must immediately turn away and not look at it, otherwise he will certainly become lost and not arrive at his destination that night, but instead, travel in a circle.     The name is derived from the three words: hashok, grass; okwa, water; hui'ga, drop. The two preceding tales refer to the ignis fatuus often seen along the swamps of St Tammany parish. This week in Louisiana history. November 29, 2005. Tropical Storm Epsilon becoming the 26th named storm of the busiest hurricane season on record. This week in New Orleans history. The fire with 6 deaths at the Rault Center marks November 29, 1972 as tragic day in New Orleans history. Legislation requiring sprinkler systems in high-rise buildings were prompted by this tragedy. This week in Louisiana. Christmas in Roseland American Rose Center Fridays, Saturdays, & Sundays throughout December 8877 Jefferson Paige Rd Shreveport, LA 71119 Contact Lani Bailey, 318-532-5125 eventcoordinator@rose.org At the end of the year, the gardens are magically transformed into a winter wonderland of twinkling lights for Christmas in Roseland – our largest fundraiser of the year for the gardens.       2025 will mark our 42nd year for Christmas in Roseland! We are open every Friday, Saturday and Sunday beginning November 28th through December 21st, 2025, with special Encore Nights continuing Dec. 22nd & 23rd, 2025.       Be sure to visit Christmas in Roseland on Dec. 12th-14th for our Christmas Market. Vendors of beautiful soaps, linens, wood products and other handmade products and gift items will be present.       One of the most popular displays at Christmas in Roseland is the display of Christmas Cards to the Community made by area schools. 8' x 4', beautifully designed and painted by school children of elementary and middle schools of the Shreveport-Bossier area.      Christmas in Roseland is a participant in the Holiday Trail of Lights tour! $15 per person or $50 family Admission good from 5:30PM-9:30PM (Park open 5:30-10PM) NEW THIS YEAR! Visitors are able to purchase entry passes, Santa photos, train tickets and s'mores packets online prior to arrival here. You can also purchase tickets at the gate. BUY YOUR TICKETS EARLY! Nov. 1 – 28 FOR A 20% DISCOUNT! Please call 318-938-5402 to make a group reservation. Postcards from Louisiana. Delfeayo Marsalis at Snug Harbor.          Listen on Apple Podcasts. Listen on audible. Listen on Spotify. Listen on TuneIn. Listen on iHeartRadio. The Louisiana Anthology Home Page. Like us on Facebook. 

Graham Cannon returns to discuss a modern Judge Dredd classic by Rob Williams and Henry Flint. Get your copy from the 2000AD store. And thanks to Close Encounters in Peterborough for letting us record upstairs.And yes, my voice was recovering from a cold.You can find a list of all the upcoming books on the Facebook page, follow the podcast on instagram, Threads, Mastodon, and BlueSky. And email me comments and suggestions to MCBCpodcast@gmail.comMusic used in this episode is Circuit Breaker by the artist Robodub. Click here to listen to the episode online. Or Download here Right click and choose save link as to download to your computer.

Andy’s Brave New World: Part 4 Andy and Sarah continue to explore the Presidio settlement. Based on a post by the hospital. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. "I've no intention of giving up our supplies or the consulate. All of that is ours, fair and square, and we can be choosy about who we share with. Right now, even if people like Rachel are a little envious of our situation, they won't try anything. There's no real competition for resources or territory yet." They paused, watching a volunteer coordinate a cache of water bottles. "Yeah", Sarah mused thoughtfully. "I guess the real question is what happens down the line. What if people like Rachel do get jealous of what we have but we don't want to share." She smiled a little. "Post-apocalyptic wealth inequality." "I mean, yeah it's a legitimate question. And if we assume the Presidio is going to be the government here, it'll come down to how it develops. Will they let people have "private property", Andy said, making air quotes, "whatever that means now, or go more communal?" "What do you think would be better?" Sarah asked. "I believe strongly in balance," Andy said thoughtfully. "Yes, the government, or the community, whatever, needs power to redistribute wealth when inequality gets extreme, and it should do its best to ensure everyone has a fair shot, especially because people will naturally gravitate toward supporting their own; you know, nepotism. There's also lots of things that are public goods that only make sense for the government as a whole to organize and provide." "But there's also got to be some concept of private property, that's what motivates people to build, to create, to work hard. Without private property it's hard to have accountability once your group gets bigger than a couple hundred people, and with no accountability it's hard to get people to do things." He gazed around at the bustling camp. "If I can become a respected voice here early on, maybe I can help push development in that direction. A strong but fair government that works to provide public goods and protect individual rights while ensuring nobody falls too far behind." "This is all theoretical though, and way out into the future. For now I think the hope is that people pitch in, work together, and share on their own, because we're all just trying to survive." Sarah studied his face. "You've really thought this through." Andy chuckled. "Yeah, well, before we left Yosemite, I was reading those prepper manuals Miguel, you remember Daniela's dad, left us. They had some interesting takes on politics and government, alongside all the survival and engineering stuff." He shrugged. "They're written by preppers for preppers, so they've definitely got a libertarian bent. But I think some of their core arguments are pretty sound." Andy slowed his pace, watching a woman in scrubs directing several volunteers near the medical tent. "Before we donate these antibiotics, we should ask around about where they should go. Especially ask anyone who looks like they're in charge." "Why not just give them to the medical tent?" Sarah asked. "Because we want as many people as possible to know we brought them," Andy explained quietly. "Each person we ask is another person who knows we're contributing to the community. Better to establish that goodwill early." Sarah nodded thoughtfully. "Smart. What about the apples?" "Yeah, we should be strategic with those too. When we talk to people, first find out if they're actually living here at the Presidio or nearby in the neighborhood. No point giving them to random visitors or people just passing through." He adjusted his pack. "We don't have an unlimited supply, and temporary goodwill from strangers isn't worth much. Better to save them for people we might actually build relationships with." "Like Rachel," Sarah noted. "Since she lives on our street." "Exactly. The apples are a resource, we should use them to build connections that matter." Sarah shook her head ruefully. "You're already playing 4D chess while most people don't even know they're in a game yet." "Maybe a bit Machiavellian," Andy admitted. "But my intentions are good. I want to help rebuild something worth living in." Day 8, Midmorning After an hour of carefully distributed apples, they asked around for Guillermo Herrera. They found him in a makeshift office in one of the old administrative buildings, bent over a desk covered in inventory lists. He was a stocky man in his forties, wearing partial combat fatigues with a well-maintained fade haircut that spoke of decades of military discipline. A younger woman sat nearby, organizing what looked like personnel rosters. Guillermo looked up as they entered, his expression professionally neutral. "Can I help you?" "Andy Rhee," Andy introduced himself. "We just checked in with registration. They suggested we come see you." "Any military experience?" Guillermo asked squarely, brow furrowing as he studied Andy closely. "I was a park ranger. I'm comfortable with firearms, good shot, but no formal tactical training." Guillermo glanced at Sarah expectantly. "No, nothing. Haven't even held a gun before to be honest." She said with a self-deprecating shrug. "I'm eager to learn though, if there will be classes." "Yes, we're in the process of organizing some." Guillermo turned back to Andy. "Talk to Michelle to sign up for the militia." he said, pointing a thumb at the woman behind him. His expression shifted to polite dismissal. "One other thing," Andy continued, "one of our group members, Daniela Martinez, she's fourteen, but she actually got extensive military training from her father, an ex-Marine, also a ranger. He was;" Andy paused. "Very, very prepared for something like this." That caught Guillermo's attention. "How extensively?" "She's currently setting up our defense perimeter. Planning kill zones, considering sight lines, working out mine placement. Her knowledge is really impressive. I'd happily trust her with anything security related for our group." Guillermo leaned back, reassessing. "Put both their names down on the militia list," he told Michelle. "We're trying to catalog available combat personnel." He turned back to Andy. "Any significant weapons?" "Yeah, a reasonable amount," Andy said carefully. "Rather not detail it all yet, until we see how things develop here. But we might be able to share some if there are specific needs." "Sure, nothing urgent right now," Guillermo replied. "There hasn't been any trouble yet. But we're discussing organizing supply runs to the military installations in the region. Travis Air Force Base, Coast Guard Island, Camp Parks, Moffitt Field." He tapped areas on a map on his desk as he named the locations. "San Jose State is open to joining, and we'll reach out to whatever leadership emerges in Oakland if and when it does." Andy nodded. "Good idea. I'd be happy to help when that happens. Daniela too, she'd be valuable on a mission like that, you could probably have her lead a team, if you could convince people to follow her." "Noted." Guillermo made another mark in his notebook. "I'll want to meet her, evaluate her capabilities myself." "Of course. We're at the Korean consulate in Presidio Heights when you want to arrange that." They exchanged Beacon handles, then Andy added, "By the way, who's coordinating the mass grave? I read about it on Beacon. We have a body we need to deal with, and I'm sure we'll find more once we clear our street." "Alyssa Daniels," Guillermo replied. "She's;" he paused thoughtfully. "Diligent. High-strung, but gets things done. She's coordinating from the west side of the grounds." "Thanks." Andy reached into his pack. "And last thing, would you like an apple? Just got them yesterday." Guillermo accepted with a nod of thanks. Andy handed one to Michelle as well, who smiled gratefully. "Also, we have some antibiotics with us to donate, should we take them to the medical tent or is there another place for them?" "Medical tent. Dr. Wilson's in charge there." "Thanks. We'll head there next. Have a good one." Day 8, Midday They found Diana Wells near the western edge of the parade ground, bent over a topographical map spread across a folding table. Her silver hair was pulled back in a practical braid, and she wore well-worn hiking gear that spoke of years spent in the wilderness. Several compound bows and a collection of hunting rifles were carefully arranged on a nearby table. "Diana Wells?" Andy asked, approaching the table. "I heard you're organizing hunting expeditions." She looked up, her weathered face breaking into a smile as she noticed Andy's holstered glock. "Finally, someone who might actually know what they're doing!" She extended a calloused hand. "I've been trying to put together hunting parties, but haven't found a lot of takers." She smiled ruefully. Andy chuckled, immediately warming to her direct manner. "Andy Rhee. I was a park ranger at Yosemite, before all this." "Ranger? Perfect." Diana's eyes lit up. "We need to start organized hunting soon, can't live on canned food forever. But these city libs, bless their hearts, most of 'em never even held a gun;" She caught herself, glancing at Sarah apologetically. "No offense meant." "None taken," Sarah said with a small smile. "I'll freely admit I'm one of those city libs who needs to learn. Actually hoping to start training soon." Diana's expression softened. "Well, that's different then. Admitting you need to learn is the first step." She turned back to her map. "I'm thinking of starting with some deer hunting in Marin. Less competition from other survivors up there, and the herds should be getting bolder without human pressure." "Smart," Andy nodded. "How many experienced hunters do you have so far?" "Three, including me," Diana sighed. "Got a former Marine who did some hunting growing up, and a Forest Service guy from Oregon. Could really use someone with your background." Andy traced his finger along the map's contour lines, studying the terrain. "What about sustainability? Should we be worried about overhunting?" Diana straightened up, giving him an approving nod. "Good to hear a ranger asking that, shows the right mindset." She pulled out a small notebook, flipping through some rough calculations. "It's something I've been thinking about. We should probably try to establish some quotas for the region at some point, coordinate between different hunting groups." She gestured at the camp around them. "But honestly? That's going to have to come later. Right now;" She shook her head with a wry smile. "Way things are going, I doubt we'll find enough competent hunters to make a real dent in the population. Most folks here can barely tell a rifle from a shotgun, let alone track and shoot a deer." Volunteer Coordination. They found the volunteer coordination center in what had once been a Presidio administrative office. The space buzzed with focused energy as women, and a few men, moved between folding tables covered in papers, calling out updates and cross-referencing lists, while several people either requesting or volunteering various types of services spoke to them. At the center of the organized chaos stood a striking woman in her early thirties, her presence commanding attention without effort. Megan Lunn had the kind of natural relaxed attractiveness that didn't need enhancement, high cheekbones, clear gray eyes, and naturally red hair pulled back in a practical braid that reached halfway down her back. She wore simple, well-worn outdoors clothes that suggested genuine outdoor experience rather than posturing. "Jenny, can you cross-reference these lists with medical?" she was saying as Andy and Sarah approached. "We need to know who has first aid training versus actual medical degrees." Her voice carried naturally, pitched to be heard without shouting. She glanced up as they neared, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of their appearance. "Welcome to the circus," she said with a tired smile. "I'm Megan, or Meg. You must be the new arrivals Alice mentioned, the ranger and the biology student?" Up close, Andy could see the subtle signs of command experience in her bearing, the way she positioned herself to keep the whole room in view, how she tracked multiple conversations while maintaining eye contact. A silver pendant in the shape of a compass rose hung at her throat, and a well-used Leatherman multi-tool was clipped to her belt. "That's right," Andy replied. "Andy Rhee, and this is Sarah Chen-Mitchell. You're coordinating the volunteer efforts?" "Trying to," Meg said with a self-deprecating laugh that didn't quite hide her competence. "I was a wilderness guide before all this, led backcountry expeditions, taught survival skills. Turns out organizing twenty stressed people in the wilderness was good practice for;" she gestured at the controlled chaos around them, "whatever this is becoming." A younger volunteer approached with a stack of papers, and Meg smoothly took them without breaking conversation. "We're trying to match skills to needs, and build some kind of structure. Luckily lots of people want to help out." She studied them both with those penetrating gray eyes. "I hear you've set up at the consulate rather than joining us down here?" There was no judgment in her tone, just neutral statement of fact. Andy found himself wanting to explain his reasoning, to have this attractive, capable woman understand his choices. Before he could respond, she held up a hand with another slight smile. "Don't worry, I get it. You've found somewhere defensible, and secured resources. Smart move, actually." She marked something on one of her many lists. "We'll need multiple strong points around the city eventually, not just one central location. The important thing right now is staying connected." Andy found himself immediately impressed with her diplomacy, and her recall of their group and situation. "Yes," he responded. "We are interested in being a part of the Presidio, we just have our own space right now." "Glad to hear. I was hoping, based on the description of your group, that you weren't one of those ultra-right-wing, prepper, sovereign citizen types. I'm sure they're having a blast right now, the ones that survived anyway." Her eyes held a hint of amusement. "So, what can I do for you Mr. Rhee?" He and Sarah shared a glance. "First we have some apples to offer, and some antibiotics to donate. And we've heard you're taking a lot of lead in organizing here, I was wondering if we could chat, big picture." Meg smiled. "Ah, so you're here to play the game as well. No doubt." She called out, "Fresh apples, everyone, get them from the kind Mr. Andy Rhee over here." Sarah and Andy were briefly mobbed by the people in the office, handing out most of their remaining apples. "Let's step outside. I could use a walk." She announced to the room she'd be out for a few minutes. They stepped into the bright sunlight. "Shall we head toward the medical tent to drop off the antibiotics?" she asked. "Or do you have any more people to mention them to first?" Her smile was wry. Andy felt a little exposed. "Yeah, you got us, we have been announcing them first. What gave it away?" "You checked in with Alice over two hours ago." Andy immediately wondered why he hadn't put that together. "It's what I'd do in your position as well." She studied him. "So, what's your strategy here Andy? Give me your assessment of things." Andy paused to gather his thoughts. "Well, it's clear that the Presidio will be the new center of power here in SF. There's a chance another center emerges but at this point, it's unlikely, with so many people already here the network effect is too strong." He continued, warming to the topic. "I want to help rebuild. I've already offered what basic skills I have, but I'd also like to get involved politically. I believe good, well organized government is the best route to getting our basic needs met, as a collective. Water, agriculture, power, trade, defense, medicine, and eventually engineering and manufacturing." He counted off the different needs with his fingers as he named them. "These ultimately require some centralization and broad geographic control to do them sustainably at scale. Not something you can make happen with just you and your plucky band of survivors. Well, power, maybe with solar, and water if you live close enough to the water table to dig a well. But everything else, we need organization and cooperation. Government." His voice grew more serious. "It's still early days but the norms and political decisions and organizations we form today could have long lasting repercussions for our future, assuming we make it that far. And I have thoughts on the direction things should go. I'd like to start shaping things now. I don't care particularly for political power myself, although I'm open to it. I'm more concerned with making sure whatever power ends up taking place is competent and benevolent." Meg listened intently as they walked, her gray eyes occasionally flicking to study Andy's face. The morning fog had burned off entirely now, leaving the parade ground bathed in clear sunlight. Sarah walked slightly behind them, taking in their conversation while maintaining a respectful distance. "That's; a remarkably clear-eyed assessment," Meg said finally. "Most people here are still just trying to process what happened." They passed a group of women organizing supplies, lowering their voices. "And you're absolutely right about the network effect. Every day more and more survivors arrive. If things continue we'll be a small city soon." She stopped walking, turning to face Andy directly. "Also, I appreciate that you didn't lead with just seizing power and controlling things. You led with meeting basic needs." Her penetrating gaze held his. "You're thinking about infrastructure first, then governance to support that. I agree with that mindset." Andy felt oddly exposed under her careful analysis, but also validated. This was clearly someone who also understood the bigger picture. "So, tell me, Andy," Meg said, resuming their walk toward the medical tent, "what direction do you think things should go? You must have opinions about governance structure." Andy considered his response. "I think the immediate challenge is establishing legitimate authority," he said. "Right now, everyone's cooperating because we have to. But once basic survival is handled, power dynamics will get complicated fast." Meg nodded thoughtfully. "Especially with armed groups involved." "Exactly," Andy agreed. "And that's actually my biggest concern. The military and police need to see themselves as subordinate to civilian leadership from the start. Otherwise;" He gestured at the armed men patrolling the perimeter. "Well, history shows what happens when guys with guns decide they should call the shots." "But how do you establish that civilian authority?" Meg asked, genuinely curious. "Elect a President?" Andy shook his head. "Not yet." He paused, watching a group of volunteers unloading supplies. "For now, I think we just need something simpler. A small council, maybe, anyone who can gather enough supporters to qualify. Just enough structure to build an institution that can capture some of the legitimacy that our decisions and communications will earn from being competent, and in turn lend more legitimacy to whatever decisions and communications the current leaders are already making." "And longer term?" Meg prompted, clearly intrigued. Andy laughed. "Well, do you want to get in the weeds here?" Meg nodded so he pressed on. "I think elections work well in theory, but once they scale up, they become easily corrupted. Politicians make impossible promises, cater to special interests, play on people's fears, and on and on. You know." Meg smiled and simply nodded. "I recently learned about this thing called sortition," Andy said. "Like jury duty, but for legislation. Get people who are interested in specific areas, agriculture, defense, infrastructure, to volunteer for a pool. Then randomly select among them to serve on committees that draft laws related to those areas." He warmed to the topic, encouraged by Meg's engaged expression. "Those proposals would then go to another randomly selected assembly, this time drawn from the entire population, for yay or nay votes. Pay them like jurors, give them a fixed term. Let them elect one of their number as an executive to oversee implementation." Sarah, who had been listening quietly, spoke up. "That's; actually really interesting. We talked about the problems with our current election system a lot in our poli-sci classes. It sounds like this would get rid of career politicians, and make it harder to concentrate power in any individuals." "Right," Andy agreed. "But that's all theoretical right now. The immediate priority is establishing the Presidio's authority through competent organization. Getting systems in place for collecting and distributing supplies, coordinating defense, managing resources." He gestured at the bustling camp. "Build legitimacy through effectiveness first. Then we can worry about formal governance. If there's anything I or my group can help with, we're here." Meg studied him closely. "You've clearly given this a lot of thought." "I've had some time to read recently," Andy said with a slight smile. "And seeing everything collapse; well, it makes you think about how to build something better." Meg considered his words thoughtfully. "Well, this is certainly food for thought. I've never heard of this "sortition" before, but it seems quite reasonable." She nodded slowly. "And I definitely agree that we must establish legitimacy through competent governance." "And what are your goals in all this?" Andy asked. "Similar to yours, just less defined in terms of politics," she replied. "I want to help people, make sure we rebuild successfully." Her expression grew more serious. "And in the long run, hope we don't collapse into some kind of anarchy or tyranny. We've suffered enough already." "Agreed," Andy said firmly. He extended his hand. "I'm happy to talk about this more, but for now, I'd hope we can consider ourselves allies." "We can, Mr. Rhee," she said, meeting his gaze and taking his hand with a firm grip. "I'm glad you're with us. I'll mention you to the others who would be on this little council. Maybe we could get a few meetings of us all together at some point." "We'd welcome hosting those meetings at the consulate," Andy offered. A knowing smile crossed Meg's face. "Yes, of course you would. Being the host would give you natural authority." "Hey, just playing the game as you said. And we have a nice formal dining room. And some nice wine stores," Andy replied with a matching smile. "Are you staying here at the parade grounds?" he asked. "Yeah, I have a tent here." "I'd like to offer that you move in with us at the consulate. We have quite a nice setup there right now." Meg shook her head. "I need to stay here, thanks. I can't be a good leader without being among the people, going through their same hardships." A slight smile. "And I honestly prefer camping to living indoors." She considered for a moment. "But, I'd love a hot shower if you have one? And maybe some hot coffee, anything that gets donated gets immediately requested, and we haven't had anything new come in for a while now." "We don't have hot water yet," Andy admitted, "but we do have cold running water. And plenty of coffee." "I start my day at 6AM," Meg said. "If I could come tomorrow morning at 5 to shower and have some coffee, you'd have earned quite a big favor from me." "Anytime," Andy replied. "I'll be up and ready for you. Message me on Beacon if anything changes." "Oh, and who else should I talk to?" he added. "Who would be on this council? I've talked to Guillermo and Diana so far, and I know about Alyssa." "Let's see," Meg said, counting off on her fingers. "Dr. Elena Wilson, she was chief of emergency medicine at UCSF. She's coordinating all our medical operations from the main tent. Brilliant woman, I couldn't believe our luck when she arrived. She's already setting up training programs for basic medical care." She gestured toward the solar array setup. "Then there's Marcus Qin, he was a high-up engineer at Tesla's Fremont plant. He's heading up our power infrastructure projects, working on getting reliable electricity to key facilities, planning longer-term solar installations. He's looking for people with electrical engineering backgrounds, thankfully we have lots of those in this city." "Jennifer Brown is essential, she was regional operations manager for Whole Foods. She understands large-scale food storage and distribution better than anyone here. She's organizing our pantry systems, tracking supplies, planning preservation methods for when scavenging isn't viable anymore." "And probably Rebecca Foster. She was a water resource manager for East Bay M U D. Keeping clean water flowing is going to be crucial once our bottled water supplies run low. She's already mapping out plans for gravity-fed distribution systems and planning wells and filter stations. Desalination, too, if we can get the equipment and power for it." She straightened up. "Those are the key players right now, along with the ones you've met. Each of them has proven themselves competent enough that people naturally started following their lead." On the shore of the Bay. Andy and Sarah stood at the water's edge near Crissy Field, looking out over the bay. The midday sun sparkled off the water, and Alcatraz loomed in the distance, a stark reminder of civilization's remnants. A cool breeze carried the salt smell of the ocean, rustling through Sarah's layered black hair. "Woof, I'm pooped already," Sarah sighed, stretching her arms overhead. Her cropped athletic tank rode up, revealing her toned midriff. "And we still have five more names to talk to." "Yeah, but there's no hurry right now," Andy replied, watching a seabird wheel overhead. "I think today was a good start. Let's take a quick break here, then maybe talk to one or two more people before heading back for lunch." "Ok, I'll message them that we'll be back in about an hour and a half." Sarah pulled out her phone, her manicured fingers tapping quickly. "We're a bit late. Can one of them be Elena? I want to sign up for medical care lessons as soon as I can." She tucked a strand of blonde-highlighted hair behind her ear. "I'm sick of telling people I have no useful skills." "Sure, we can. And yeah, to be honest I didn't expect there to be so much going on here. Beacon said it was 50-ish people two days ago, right?" "Yeah. Exponential growth." Sarah's hazel eyes lit up. "We run into this a lot in biology. It would be interesting to get the exact numbers of new arrivals per day and see if you could fit the growth curve and try to predict where we'd end up." Andy studied her as she gazed out over the water. Her heart-shaped face was animated as she talked, light freckles crinkling around her nose. She had an innate talent for connecting concepts and processing information, backed by determination and resourcefulness. She genuinely cared about helping others (well, except for maybe Crystal). And with her approachable, pretty features, she'd be perfect for politics if there ended up being elections. If they could accept someone so young holding power. His eyes drifted lower, taking in her athletic figure, the perfect curves of her tits under her compression top, the slim waist tapering to curved hips in her matching leggings. Approachable, pretty face, and a fantastic body. She caught him ogling and flashed a self-conscious smile, subtly adjusting her top to emphasize her cleavage. "Hmm, is someone thinking with his dick again?" She stepped closer, looking up at him through long lashes. "Does my, what was it, fearless protector, my *Machiavellian* fearless protector need some special attention?" Andy laughed and reached out to touch her cheek gently. She closed her eyes and smiled, pressing against his hand before looking up at him with those striking hazel eyes. "Alright, what's up Andy?" "I was just thinking, you'd do great in politics." "Huh?" Her full lips curved into a surprised smile. "What do you mean?" "You're smart, you make connections well and pick up new information fast. You're very determined and resourceful. You care about helping people." His eyes traced the delicate lines of her face. "And you're really pretty, in an approachable kind of way. If there were elections, you'd do really well." Sarah shifted her weight, the movement highlighting her athletic figure. "I also totally lack real world skills it turns out, and;" she gestured at her carefully coordinated athleisure outfit, "well; one could say I care too much about how I look." "Like I said, perfect for politics!" She laughed and poked him in the chest, her perky tits bouncing slightly with the movement. "OK, I like this sweet talk. This is like the nicest thing you've said to me since we met." "Well, don't forget I think elections are inherently corrupting." "Hmm, so you want to corrupt me?" she purred, taking his hand. Her skin was soft and warm against his. "Why don't you tell me what you were really thinking." "What I said. And then I stared at you for too long, noticed the rest of your body, and then my brain lost a lot of blood flow." "What, now you notice my body?" She brought his hand up to her tit, letting him squeeze it gently through the compression fabric. Her nipple hardened under his touch. "Four days of wearing the cutest skimpy little matching sets, posing for you, fidgeting with my tops to make you look at my boobs, talking about my body nonstop, and you finally now tell me you notice me while thinking about politics?" She shook her head, making her highlighted layers catch the sun. "You're a real odd duck you know." She suddenly pressed against him in a tight hug, her firm tits pushing against his chest. "Thanks for believing in me." Andy stroked her silky hair, breathing in her light floral shampoo. "Of course." Sarah stepped back, adjusting her top. "Ok. Let's go back." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Unless; are you sure you don't need any;" She made an exaggerated blowjob gesture, pushing her tongue against her cheek while moving her fist near her mouth. Her full lips curved into a teasing smile. "We could sneak behind those dunes real quick." Andy felt his arousal surge instantly. "Can you do that again?" "What, this?" She repeated the lewd gesture, looking every bit the corrupted coed fitness influencer with her subtle makeup, highlighted hair, and coordinated athleisure set that showed off every curve. "Ok, let's go," Andy said, taking her hand and walking toward the dunes. They exchanged horny smiles and giggles on the way to the dunes, Sarah's athletic figure moving gracefully beside him. Behind the dunes, Andy reclined against the sand and took his pants off while Sarah gathered her layered black hair into a high ponytail, a few honey-highlighted strands falling loose around her face. She knelt between his legs, her compression leggings hugging every curve. Starting with just her hands, she looked up at him through long lashes. "Remind me, what did you say about me just now?" Andy repeated his earlier compliments about her intelligence and determination. "Ah yes, thank you." She gave him a firm squeeze. "I do like a good compliment you know." She leaned forward, her perky tits straining against her top as she took him in her mouth. Her technique was skilled and enthusiastic, starting with gentle kisses and licks along his shaft before taking him deeper, her tongue swirling around his head while her hand worked his base. Her full lips slid up and down his length in perfect rhythm, alternating between quick, teasing strokes and slow, sensual ones. Andy closed his eyes, enjoying the sensations. He switched to praising her body, how toned and tight it was, how perfectly optimized for looking good, how it showed her determination and focus. She hummed appreciatively around him, the vibrations sending shivers through his body. Despite her current activity, a blush crept across her freckled cheeks at his words. She pulled off him, sucking hard as she did so, making her mouth feel deliciously tight before popping off him. "I guess you're wanting me to take my top off?" she asked, sitting back on her heels. Andy nodded. "Ok," she said with a playful smile. "Get ready." She pulled off her compression top and sports bra in one fluid motion, revealing her perfectly perky, symmetric, B-cup tits. They were exactly as impressive bare as they had looked in her carefully chosen sports bras, firm and high, with rosy nipples standing at attention in the cool air. She gave them a little shake, watching his reaction with amusement. "Right, where were we? I believe I was in the middle of, ah, restoring proper blood flow in my patient." She leaned forward again, her tits swaying slightly as she resumed her ministrations. She worked him skillfully, one hand pumping his shaft while the other gently massaged his balls. Her tongue focused on his sensitive spots, especially the underside of his head, occasionally taking him deeper and holding him there. Though she mostly looked down, concentrating on her rhythm, she would glance up periodically through her lashes to make eye contact, her hazel eyes sparkling despite her blush. The contrast between her innocent blush and what she was doing made Andy laugh. "What?" she asked, pulling back. "You're blushing?" "I don't know, it's awkward," she said, self-consciously tucking a loose strand of highlighted hair behind her ear. "It can't possibly be a cute look." "Don't worry, you look beautiful with my cock in your mouth." "Well, if you say so." She gave his head a playful lick, her hazel eyes sparkling. "I am obsessed with looking good after all." She resumed in earnest, using her tongue to continue to rub against his sensitive spots on the underside of his shaft that she'd discovered with her hands yesterday. Within a minute of this rhythm, Andy was ready. He moaned a warning to her. Andy felt the pressure build to an explosive peak. His whole body tensed as waves of pleasure crashed through him. Sarah's hazel eyes locked onto his as she pulled back to his head, her full lips wrapped tight around him. She swallowed eagerly, her small hand squeezing and stroking his shaft with perfect pressure, milking every pulse of his orgasm. The sight of her looking up at him, her pretty face focused on pleasuring him while she swallowed his cum, made him shudder and spurt several more times. When the last aftershocks subsided, she made an exaggerated face, her perfect features scrunching up adorably. "Honestly, we need to find you some canned pineapple or something. Too many rehydrated beef stews." Andy laughed and relaxed, pleasant sensations spreading through his body. "I thought I was getting a sponsored post." "Oh right!" Her eyes lit up as she shifted into her content creator voice. "Hey loves! Quick update from your fave outdoor wellness girlie! Just discovered the most amazing hidden spot in the Presidio for my morning protein boost." She dabbed delicately at her lips with one manicured finger. "You know I'm always on the lookout for sustainable, all-natural sources of nutrients, and let me tell you, this one hits different! Super thick and creamy, with these really;" she gave a subtle eye-roll, "complex umami notes, definitely not your basic store-bought protein shake." She struck an exaggerated influencer pose, bare tits thrust forward. "Loving how it just slides right down, and it's packed with all those essential minerals my body craves." She tossed her ponytail and gave an exaggerated wink. "The best part? My super knowledgeable park ranger friend showed me exactly where to find it. We'll definitely be doing more outdoor taste testing sessions soon! Remember ladies, staying fit during the apocalypse is all about finding those secret spots and knowing exactly how to; work them!" She finished with an innocent smile. "Like and follow for more wellness tips and behind-the-scenes peeks at my outdoor adventures!" She giggled and reached for her top, pulling it back on with practiced grace. "Ok, feel better? Did I overdo it?" "No don't worry, that was quite a great ad." he said, pulling his pants back on. "Let's chill here for a moment before we go." She curled up next to him, her athletic body fitting perfectly against his side. Her layered hair tickled his arm as they watched the waves, the sun warm on their skin. After a few peaceful minutes, she stirred. "Ok, let's go." They stood, Sarah adjusting her ponytail and smoothing her outfit back to Instagram-ready perfection. As they walked back toward the Presidio, she bumped her hip playfully against his. "You know, for someone who claims to be above politics, you sure know how to negotiate for what you want." Day 8, Early Afternoon The medical tent hummed with barely contained chaos. A dozen cots had been crammed into the space, most occupied by patients in various states of distress. Someone moaned from behind a makeshift curtain while a volunteer with shaking hands tried to sort through a box of donated medications, labels facing every direction. The sharp smell of antiseptic couldn't quite mask the underlying odors of sweat and sickness. Dr. Elena Wilson hunched over a patient chart at a wobbly folding table, squinting at her own handwriting. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her silver-streaked hair had escaped its bun in several places. Her scrubs were wrinkled and spotted with what might have been coffee or something worse. When she reached for her pen, her movements were quick and economical, like someone who had learned long ago not to waste energy on unnecessary gestures. "Excuse me?" Andy cleared his throat. "Are you Dr. Wilson?" She looked up, blinking as if emerging from deep concentration. "Yeah, that's me." Her eyes flicked between Andy and Sarah, assessing. "You need medical attention?" "No, we're actually here to donate some supplies," Andy said. "I'm Andy, and this is Sarah. We just got to the city yesterday." Sarah nodded. "We brought antibiotics." Dr. Wilson's expression shifted subtly. "Let's see what you've got." Andy unzipped his pack and carefully laid out the bottles on the edge of the table. Dr. Wilson picked each one up, examining the labels. "Oh thank god," she murmured, almost to herself. Then louder: "Riti! Come here a sec!" A harried-looking nurse in faded scrubs hurried over, clipboard in hand. "Log these in," Dr. Wilson said, gesturing to the antibiotics. "And put them in the locked cabinet." She turned back to Andy and Sarah. "Thanks, you might have saved a few lives today." Sarah took the opportunity to speak up. "I heard you might be starting some kind of medical training," she said. "I studied biology at UCLA before; all this. I know it's not the same as medical training, but I really want to help if I can." Dr. Wilson ran a hand through her hair, further disheveling it. "Biology, huh? That's something at least. We're doing basic emergency response training on Tuesday morning. Everyone needs to know how to stop bleeding and recognize infection now." She glanced over at a patient who had started coughing violently. "Michelle will add you to the list. I need to check on Mr. Peterson." As Dr. Wilson hurried away, Michelle gave them a tired smile. "Don't mind her. She's been working pretty much non-stop since everything went down. The class starts at nine on Tuesday." She wrote Sarah's name in a notebook. "And thanks for the antibiotics. We're running low on everything." Day 8, Early Afternoon The afternoon sun beat down on the cracked pavement as Andy and Sarah made their way back through the empty streets of Presidio Heights. The silent houses loomed around them, windows dark and lifeless. Sarah tugged at her ponytail, trying to smooth it down. "God, it's so quiet," she said, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness. "I keep expecting to see someone walking a dog or mowing their lawn or something." Andy nodded, stepping over a newspaper that had yellowed in the sun. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Still doesn't feel real sometimes." "So;" Sarah kicked at a pebble. "Dr. Wilson was something else, wasn't she? I mean, I get why she's stressed, but jeez." "She's got a lot on her plate right now," Andy said with a sympathetic shrug. "At least that Michelle woman seemed nice. Makes me a little less nervous about the class." "I'm sure you'll do great," Andy said. "Maybe", she paused. "It's weird how some things from before seem useful now and others just; don't matter anymore." They walked in silence for a moment, their footsteps echoing slightly. "Meg seems pretty capable though, "Sarah said, glancing sideways at Andy, "I noticed you were quick to invite her to stay with us." She raised her eyebrows teasingly. Andy laughed. "Can't put anything past you, can I? Yeah, I thought having someone with her connections around might be helpful. But honestly? I respect her more for saying no. It shows she understands she needs to be with the people she's trying to help." "Hmm, very diplomatic of you." Sarah smiled, bumping her shoulder against his. "Well, despite the slightly terrifying doctor, I'd say it was a pretty good morning overall. Made some connections, signed up for medical training;" Her smile turned mischievous. "Found that nice spot overlooking the bay;" "With the excellent protein options," Andy added with a straight face. Sarah burst out laughing, her cheeks flushing slightly. "You know what's funny? After everything that's happened, pretending to be my old influencer self actually helps sometimes." Her voice softened. "Like, it's proof that I can still be that silly, excited person sometimes, even if I'm reviewing very different products these days." "Your authenticity really shines through," Andy said with mock seriousness. "Very engaging content." Sarah rolled her eyes and shoved him lightly. "Just wait until you see what I've got planned for future episodes." She looked at him more seriously. "But honestly? With all your political maneuvering today, what I appreciate most is how you make me feel like it's still okay to be silly sometimes. To still be; me." Without thinking, Sarah reached for his hand. Their fingers intertwined as they walked, finding comfort in the simple connection amid the silent streets. To be continued. Based on a post by the hospital, for Literotica.

ABOUT THIS EPISODE: This week we return to an episode with Michelle Cyca. Michelle is a journalist and book critic. In their conversation, Michelle talks about how she can't get enough of the Gilmore Girls, and what she's excited about when it comes to BC books. ABOUT MICHELLE CYCA: Michelle Cyca is a writer, editor and book enthusiast living on unceded territories of the Musqueam Band, and the Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh Nations. Her writing has appeared in the Vancouver Sun, Chatelaine, SAD Mag and more. Find her on Twitter @michellecyca. ABOUT MEGAN COLE: Megan Cole the Director of Programming and Communications for the BC and Yukon Book Prizes. She is also a writer based on the territory of the Tla'amin Nation. Megan writes creative nonfiction and has had essays published in Chatelaine, This Magazine, The Puritan, Untethered, and more. She has her MFA in creative nonfiction from the University of King's College and is working her first book. Find out more about Megan at megancolewriter.com ABOUT THE PODCAST: Writing the Coast is recorded and produced on the traditional territory of the Tla'amin Nation. As a settler on these lands, Megan Cole finds opportunities to learn and listen to the stories from those whose land was stolen. Writing the Coast is a recorded series of conversations, readings, and insights into the work of the writers, illustrators, and creators whose books are nominated for the annual BC and Yukon Book Prizes. We'll also check in on people in the writing community who are supporting books, writers and readers every day. The podcast is produced and hosted by Megan Cole.

Your favorite content creators are dropped straight into the heart of the Cosmere: an Emuli battlefield on Roshar, set shortly before the events of Rhythm of War. Charged with delivering critical intel to Jasnah Kholin, six strangers must cut a path through the chaos of war as Odium's Singers clash with Coalition forces. To reach their goal, they will descend into hidden tunnels, face nightmares on the front lines, and make choices that could save thousands… or cost more than any of them are willing to pay. This is part two! Listen to the first half here (http://cosmereconversations.fireside.fm/186) This episode is an audio version of a filmed event that can be watched on youtube here. (https://youtu.be/fSIhrINcIhA) Support this podcast by becoming a Patron on Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/CosmereConversations) Game Master - Tyler ( @CosmereConvo ) Tuna - @EdgedancingThroughLife Ashana - @Stormlight_Memes Deraz - @cosmerejunkie7931 Naco - @jacksupertoast Yalvta - @Bookborn Relio - Ross Leiser from @BrotherwiseGames ‘The Cost of War' was written by Tyler Shotwell with inspiration from the film 1917 by Sam Mendes. This episode features music by The Black Piper, used with permission for promotional purposes. Music by The Black Piper can be found on all major platforms. For more information about The Black Piper and their music, visit theblackpiper.com. This episode features maps directly from Forgotten Adventures or created with assets from the Forgotten Adventures team by supporting them on Patreon. Find out more by visiting https://www.forgotten-adventures.net Artwork was (amazingly) done by - Madi VanDoren ( @madivandoren ) Intro/Outro music is A Motivating Story by - EVGENY (Crab_Audio) "Soldier, King, Honor" written by - Krishna Patel with vocals by Brooke Shotwell Editing and Production by - Tyler ( @CosmereConvo ) Socials managed by - Krishna and Cate (check them out here: https://linktr.ee/ShardOfOpportunity) Intro of Players and Characters - 0:00 - 14:00 A Storm Brings Warning - 14:01 - 36:10 Show Off Those Talents - 36:11 - 1:51:52 The Battlefield Before You - 1:51:53 - 2:16:15 Tunnel Endeavor - 2:16:16 - 2:29:15 A Trench of Marble - 2:29:16 - 2:43:29 The Burning Village - 2:29:30 - 4:39:02 One Who Sings and Soars - 4:39:03 - 4:54:30 Convincing the Elsecaller - 4:54:31 - 5:35:38 Our heroes Say Goodbye - 5:35:39 - 5:49:30 Support this podcast by becoming a Patron on Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/CosmereConversations) Original music by David Gruwier (https://twitter.com/DGruwier). "Radiant" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A5CFAZUv4C0) by David Gruwier.

Your favorite content creators are dropped straight into the heart of the Cosmere: an Emuli battlefield on Roshar, set shortly before the events of Rhythm of War. Charged with delivering critical intel to Jasnah Kholin, six strangers must cut a path through the chaos of war as Odium's Singers clash with Coalition forces. To reach their goal, they will descend into hidden tunnels, face nightmares on the front lines, and make choices that could save thousands… or cost more than any of them are willing to pay. There is a second podcast episode! Listen to the second half here (http://cosmereconversations.fireside.fm/187) This episode is an audio version of a filmed event that can be watched on youtube here. (https://youtu.be/fSIhrINcIhA) Support this podcast by becoming a Patron on Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/CosmereConversations) Game Master - Tyler ( @CosmereConvo ) Tuna - @EdgedancingThroughLife Ashana - @Stormlight_Memes Deraz - @cosmerejunkie7931 Naco - @jacksupertoast Yalvta - @Bookborn Relio - Ross Leiser from @BrotherwiseGames ‘The Cost of War' was written by Tyler Shotwell with inspiration from the film 1917 by Sam Mendes. This episode features music by The Black Piper, used with permission for promotional purposes. Music by The Black Piper can be found on all major platforms. For more information about The Black Piper and their music, visit theblackpiper.com. This episode features maps directly from Forgotten Adventures or created with assets from the Forgotten Adventures team by supporting them on Patreon. Find out more by visiting https://www.forgotten-adventures.net Artwork was (amazingly) done by - Madi VanDoren ( @madivandoren ) Intro/Outro music is A Motivating Story by - EVGENY (Crab_Audio) "Soldier, King, Honor" written by - Krishna Patel with vocals by Brooke Shotwell Editing and Production by - Tyler ( @CosmereConvo ) Socials managed by - Krishna and Cate (check them out here: https://linktr.ee/ShardOfOpportunity) Intro of Players and Characters - 0:00 - 14:00 A Storm Brings Warning - 14:01 - 36:10 Show Off Those Talents - 36:11 - 1:51:52 The Battlefield Before You - 1:51:53 - 2:16:15 Tunnel Endeavor - 2:16:16 - 2:29:15 A Trench of Marble - 2:29:16 - 2:43:29 The Burning Village - 2:29:30 - 4:39:02 One Who Sings and Soars - 4:39:03 - 4:54:30 Convincing the Elsecaller - 4:54:31 - 5:35:38 Our heroes Say Goodbye - 5:35:39 - 5:49:30

In this conversation, Philippa and Claire explore the concept of ideal and nightmare writing environments. They discuss how different settings, particularly those filled with distractions like bugs and interruptions, can impact creativity and productivity. The dialogue highlights the importance of a conducive environment for writing and the challenges posed by undesirable conditions.You can buy The New Neighbours here: https://uk.bookshop.org/a/16356/9781405957656And you can preorder The Family Friend here: https://uk.bookshop.org/a/16356/9780241764275 Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Andy’s Brave New World: Part 3 The group leaves Yosemite, encounters Crystal. Based on a post by the hospital. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. They were halfway through clearing the third floor's residential wing when the smell hit them, that too-familiar sweet-sour scent they'd encountered far too many times in the past week. They found him in one of the bedrooms, a middle-aged man in diplomatic attire, Juyeon John Chu, collapsed across his bed as if he'd simply laid down for a moment's rest. "I'll take care of it," Andy said quietly, already moving toward the body. "We can't bury him here, we might need the soil for growing food later. I'll take him to the sea tomorrow morning." No one argued. They'd all seen too many bodies to be truly shocked anymore, but finding one in what was meant to be their sanctuary cast a pall. "Let's get the water system running," Andy suggested after they'd wrapped the body and moved it to the yard. "But hold off on the generator for now. No sense advertising our presence with lights until we're more settled." They chose their rooms quickly. Daniela picked a corner room with good sightlines to the street. Sarah chose one near the bathroom, while Crystal selected a smaller room. Andy took the room nearest the stairs, positioning himself between potential threats and the others. The work of unloading their supplies took the rest of the daylight hours, their movements becoming more efficient as they learned the building's layout. They gathered on the roof as the sun began to set, their camp stoves and rehydrated meals spread out on a foldable plastic table scavenged from the kitchen. The view was breathtaking, the Golden Gate Bridge silhouetted against the darkening sky, the bay waters reflecting the last orange rays of sunlight. Despite everything, despite the silence that had fallen over the city and the scattered signs of candlelight appearing in distant windows, the vista remained stubbornly, achingly beautiful. "It's so pretty here," Crystal offered softly. "And it has everything we need. Good choice." She smiled at Andy. "Yeah, I'm glad this place has a gym," Sarah said, picking at her camping meal. "If I could just order my Korean skincare products, I'd be set." She sighed. "God, my skin is going to be a disaster without my routine." Andy chuckled, leaning back against the low wall. "For me, it's Netflix and H B O, I'll miss most. And streaming new music." He shrugged at their surprised looks. "I know, I know, I'm a park ranger, I should be all about nature. And I am! But there's nothing like unwinding with a good show or a new album after a long day." "Ice cream," Daniela said suddenly, her voice softer than usual. "I really miss ice cream. It's probably all melted now. And YouTube. Dad and I used to;" she paused. "Watch together all the time. I learned so much from tutorial videos. How to fix things, how to make stuff." She stared at her bowl. Crystal set down her bowl and touched Daniela softly on the arm. "For me, a proper hot shower," she said wistfully. "And getting my hair done at the salon. Just the whole experience of it, someone washing your hair, the massage;" "Oh god, yes," Sarah groaned. "My colorist in L A, she was an artist. These highlights?" She tugged at a strand of her expertly highlighted hair. "They're going to grow out and look awful." "Who did you go to?" Crystal asked, perking up slightly. "In L A, I mean?" "Sadie at Salon Santa Monica," Sarah replied. "Once I could afford it." Crystal's eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh! I knew some girls who went there. The agency had me going to Maurice at Atelier." She named one of the most exclusive salons in Los Angeles. "I mean, I couldn't afford it myself, it was part of the modeling contract." "Maurice?" Sarah's eyes widened. "I dream about getting an appointment there. Their balayage technique is incredible." They spent the next few minutes trading stories about L A salons and beauty treatments, their voices growing more animated as they compared experiences. Andy and Daniela exchanged bored glances, letting them have their moment of nostalgia. Finally, the conversation lulled naturally. Andy cleared his throat, his expression growing more serious. "For tonight, we'll get the Starlink array set up, then everyone can get some rest. Maybe have a shower." He gave Crystal a small smile. "Though it'll be cold for now, the water heater runs on natural gas, so that's going to take some time to sort out." He set his empty bowl aside. "Tomorrow morning, we should head to the Presidio, see what kind of organization is forming there. But before that, we need to think about security. Daniela, those anti-personnel mines you brought; think you can set up a perimeter?" Daniela nodded. "I also want to do a more thorough sweep of the building," he continued. "Check every desk, every shelf. Might find keys, documents, anything useful." The setting sun cast long shadows across the roof as he laid out his thoughts. "This place makes sense as a long-term base. The off-grid water and power should last us months, hopefully long enough to find renewable sources. If we can track down someone who knows electrical work, maybe get some solar panels up here on the roof with a battery bank, we'll be set." Sarah nodded, her expression open. "So we're staying?" A series of quick nods around the group confirmed their agreement. "In that case," Andy continued, "we should start doing serious scavenging runs. Stock up on preserved food, drinks, medical supplies, anything useful we can find. Crystal, can you look up all the grocery stores and restaurants, anywhere we might find food, and put them on a map? I saw a framed map of SF downstairs, we can use that for now." "Of course, glad to. I found a janitorial closet earlier too," Crystal said, her voice careful but eager to contribute. "But most of the cleaning equipment is electric. If we could get some manual supplies I could help maintain the place properly." "Good thinking," Andy acknowledged. "Add that to the list." He paused, considering. "You know, looking at our group, we've got, survival skills, combat expertise, " he nodded toward Daniela, "and you two are both eager and resourceful. But we're missing a lot. No medical knowledge beyond basic first aid. No electrical or mechanical experience. Nobody who knows construction or farming." He looked around the circle. "If we find people with those skills, we should consider inviting them to join us. This place is big enough." "What about the water situation long-term? We'll go through it faster if more join." Daniela asked. "Once our storage runs out, going down to the bay to refill with our trucks and purify would be inefficient. Maybe dangerous too." Andy nodded approvingly at her foresight. "You're right. But that's a problem we share with other survivors, so we can keep an eye out for solutions, maybe try to organize something collectively. A well, maybe? Or a water truck, get someone who knows how to swap its engine for a Tesla electric one." He paused and rubbed his chin. "Solar panels and batteries can last 25-30 years with minimal maintenance. Medium-term, we should look to electrify everything we can. Long-term;" he shrugged. "Hopefully society gets organized enough to restart battery and solar panel production or something." He sat up straighter. "Actually, that should be our top priority, medium term, reducing fuel dependency. All our fuel will degrade within a year anyway." He started counting off on his fingers. "Find an electrician. Scavenge solar panels and batteries. Track down some electric vehicles." A pause. "Everything else we need, food, medicine, weapons, we can stockpile, but fuel? That's our biggest vulnerability right now." "Makes sense," Sarah said, rising from her spot on the roof. "I'm going to set up the array and then hit the gym before bed." She glanced at Andy, her voice taking on a playful tone. "Want to join? I could use a spotter." Andy met her gaze, a slight smile playing at his lips. "Sure. Could use a workout after all that driving." Day 7, Evening The gym felt different in the dim glow of their camping lantern, shadows playing across the equipment. Sarah had changed into a matching set of compression shorts and sports bra in deep purple, the material clinging to every curve as she began her warm-up stretches. Why she felt the need to change from athleisure to athleisure was beyond Andy's comprehension, but he appreciated seeing her in yet another fitness-influencer outfit. She positioned herself where Andy could clearly see her, making each movement deliberately graceful, arching her back slightly more than necessary. "I usually focus on targeted exercises," she said, moving to the cable machine for some standing rows that emphasized her toned back and shoulders. She adjusted her stance, making sure he had a perfect view of her form. "You know, for the gains. But I guess those days are done." Andy let his gaze linger appreciatively on her athletic figure, toned legs, and firm ass. "Those isolation exercises clearly worked for you," he said, moving closer ostensibly to watch her form. "But with everything we're dealing with now, functional strength might be more important." Sarah adjusted her position, deliberately brushing against him as she moved. "Oh? What would you suggest?" "Compound lifts," Andy said, pointing to the power rack. "Deadlifts, squats, bench press. Works multiple muscle groups at once, builds practical strength." He walked over and demonstrated the deadlift form with an empty bar, aware of her eyes on him. Sarah approached the rack, copying his stance but imperfect. "Like this?" she asked, looking back at him over her shoulder. Andy stepped behind her to adjust her position, his hands firm but gentle as they guided her shoulders and hips into proper alignment. He stayed close, his breath warm on her neck. "Keep your back straight," he said, his voice low and intimate. "Engage your core." She completed the lift, then turned to face him, still holding the bar, their bodies inches apart. "That definitely feels different," she said, looking up at him. "More; intense." "It's better for overall fitness," Andy said, making no move to step back. "Not just for show." Sarah set the bar down carefully, letting her hand brush his arm as she straightened. "Well, I trust your expertise. As long as I don't get too bulky." She moved toward the bench press, adding an extra sway to her hips. Looking back at him, she smiled. "Though I have to admit, I don't think I'll be able to stop caring about aesthetic results too." "It really is impressive," Andy said sincerely, his eyes meeting hers. "You'd still be hot if you got bulky though. Amazonian." He said with a flex. She laughed. They worked out a few more minutes, then Sarah approached him, dabbing at her neck with a towel. After a moment's hesitation, she started. "Andy; can we talk serious for a sec?" He nodded, giving her his full attention. "Look, I'm just going to be honest," she said. "I'm attracted to you. How could I not be? You've kept us safe, led us through this nightmare;" She gave a small laugh. "Plus, you know, the whole ranger thing really works for you." Andy smiled, and let her continue, anticipating a "but". "But, well, we only met a few days ago, even if it does feel like it's been weeks. And with everything that's happened," She motioned vaguely at the world outside. "I'm not ready to jump into bed yet. I don't even know what a relationship would look like now. I hope you understand." "Of course," Andy said gently. "I'm attracted to you too, Sarah. Very much. But you're right, we're all still processing everything that's happened. There's no rush." Sarah stepped closer, a playful glint returning to her pretty almond eyes. "That said; maybe we could explore things gradually?" She glanced toward the gym shower. "For instance, I'm gonna shower right now. I need someone to wash my back." She gave him a flirtatious smile before biting her lip. "Though I can't promise you won't end up a little; frustrated." Andy's smile widened. "I think I can handle that risk." "Yeah?" Sarah asked, already backing toward the shower, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Yeah," Andy replied, following her lead. They walked together to the shower area, exchanging eager smiles. "Me first," Sarah said playfully, turning her back to him. She slowly peeled off her sports bra, exaggerating her movements and swaying her hips. The compression shorts followed, sliding down her toned legs with deliberate sensuality, revealing a plump and juicy ass. When she turned back, she had one arm draped across her tits and the other hand covering herself below. The lantern light played across her athletic figure; toned, gently muscled stomach, curved hips tapering to strong thighs, and a natural tan line from her usual workout attire. Her skin glowed golden in the dim light, a light sheen of sweat from their workout making her practically shimmer. Seeing Andy's appreciative gaze, she giggled and dropped her arm from her chest. Her cute B-cup tits were perfectly perky, defying gravity even uncovered, with small rosy nipples standing at attention. "Your turn," she said coyly, still covering herself below. Andy laughed and simply pulled off his tank top. "Aww, I give you a show and you just do it like that? No; ceremony?" Grinning, Andy turned and mimicked her earlier performance, slowly working his shorts down with exaggerated movements. When he turned back, he had one hand strategically placed over his junk. They both laughed at the playful awkwardness of the moment before simultaneously revealing themselves fully. "Oh," Sarah said appreciatively, her eyes widening slightly. "Nice; proportions." "Thanks, you too." He said, eyeing her up and down. Sarah laughed and led him into the shower by his arm, both of them very aware of his erect hardness brushing against her waist. She reached for the tap, and sighed luxuriously as the cold stream hit her. "Ahh, that's nice. I always shower cold. It's better for skin and post-workout inflammation." "What about this inflammation?" Andy quipped, making her giggle. They swapped places and as the ice-cold water hit him, Andy tensed slightly, trying not to show it. Sarah noticed anyway. "What kind of ranger isn't used to cold showers?" she teased, reaching for the soap. "Actually, I have the Korean no-B O gene," Andy admitted. "So I usually just skipped showers if there was no hot water." "Gross" Sarah said, as she began soaping herself. "Could you get my back?" she asked innocently, turning around. Andy's hands moved across her shoulders and down her spine. She turned back to face him. "Oh, and I think I missed a spot in front too;" Andy's breath caught as his hands cupped her tits. They were perfectly sized for his palms, simultaneously firm yet yielding, with hard nipples pressing against his fingers as he explored them. Sarah giggled at his expression of sacred reverence. "Are they that nice?" she asked playfully, mewling gently at his touch. "Yes, they are," he breathed. She took the soap and returned the favor, working her way down his back and across his stomach. When she reached his waist, she paused, looking up at him questioningly, her hazel eyes wide and innocent despite her intentions. At his smile, she wrapped her delicate fingers around his shaft, exploring every inch with careful attention. Andy watched as she traced the length with feather-light touches, circled the sensitive head with her thumb, stroked the tender underside, and gently cupped his balls. Her eyes never left his face, studying his reactions to each touch, noting every subtle change in his expression to learn what pleased him most. Turning off the water, she pressed closer, her wet skin sliding against his. "Think you can finish like this?" Her voice was soft but confident. "Yes," Andy managed, already breathing harder from her exploratory touches. She gripped him with both hands now, quickly establishing a rhythm. The soap acted as a perfect lubricant, letting her fingers and palms glide smoothly up and down his shaft. Her technique was precise, one hand working his base while the other focused on his sensitive head, occasionally twisting slightly in a way that made his knees weak. Her gaze was intense as she worked him harder and faster, her eager face showing clear enjoyment of the power she held over him. Water droplets ran down her face and neck, across her perfect tits, making her skin glisten in the dim light. She varied her pressure and speed expertly, reading his reactions and adjusting accordingly. When his hips began to thrust involuntarily, she matched his rhythm, her small hands providing the perfect amount of friction and pressure. Just as he felt his orgasm build, she shifted her approach, her left hand maintaining a steady stroke while her right hand moved lower to gently massage his balls. The change in sensation made him gasp, bringing him back from the edge while introducing a new kind of pleasure. She grinned at his reaction as she rolled and squeezed him gently. "Please, I was getting close" Andy breathed. With a mischievous wink, she resumed jacking him with both hands, drawing another sigh from Andy as he enjoyed the feeling of her soft fingers rubbing his shaft. Andy's breathing grew increasingly ragged as the pressure built. His hands gripped the shower wall for support as Sarah worked him relentlessly toward his peak. She seemed to sense when he was close, her movements becoming more focused and deliberate. Her eyes locked onto his face, eager to watch his expression as he came. When he finally reached his climax, it was intense, thick ropes of warm white cum erupting from his cock, splashing across her toned stomach and thighs. His whole body shuddered with each pulse as she continued to stroke him through his orgasm, maintaining perfect pressure to draw out every last wave of pleasure. She watched in fascination as his seed painted her skin, her expression one of satisfaction and pride at bringing him such intense release. "Wow, that's so hot." Sarah said, looking at the impressive volume. "Someone's been storing that up, huh?" Andy closed his eyes and smiled deeply. "Yeah." he breathed. "Been a while. Thanks." He ran a hand down her shoulder, savoring the feeling of her soft, cold skin, the post-nut clarity heightening his awareness. She examined her cum-covered hands and smirked. "Hey loves!" she chirped in her best content-creator voice. "Today, I'm so excited to share this amazing new product with you!" She winked at Andy. "Make sure to swipe up for the full review!" She delicately touched her finger to her tongue, then assumed a thoughtful expression. "Hmm, nice thick consistency, slightly sweet with just a hint of salt. Ten out of ten would recommend!" She sucked on her finger erotically, then dissolved into giggles at Andy's amused expression. "Don't forget to like and follow for more cum content!" She turned the water back on, laughing as Andy visibly flinched at the cold. "Really, some ranger you are!" The water washed away the evidence of their activities, and they stepped out to dry off. Andy felt wonderfully relaxed, tension draining from his shoulders. "What about you?" he asked softly. "Don't worry about me," Sarah smiled, toweling her hair. "I don't think I could anyway. Too much tension, and;" she paused, "I'd need to feel more emotionally connected." Andy looked puzzled. "Wait, so you're comfortable showering together, giving me a handjob, and even tasting my cum, and we haven't even held hands? Or kissed? Actually," he realized, "we haven't even hugged." Sarah giggled. "Those things are about love and emotional connection," she explained. "And for me, so is sex. This?" she giggled again, mimicking a handjob in the air. "This was just making sure my fearless protector," she emphasized those words with a sultry voice "is thinking with his brain and not his cock!" She gave him a playful grin. "And; tasting a new Korean sauce. If you're really good to me, maybe I'll be trying a new Korean skincare next time." They both laughed. She paused, letting the towel drop. "Although; I wouldn't mind a hug now, if you want." Andy opened his arms and she stepped into them. They held each other, feeling the warmth of skin on skin, this simple embrace feeling somehow far more intimate than what they'd just done. Day 7, Late Night Andy lay in bed, his phone's glow illuminating his face as he scrolled through Beacon. A soft, barely audible knock at his door caught his attention. He opened it to find Crystal standing in the dark hallway. Even in the dim light cast by his phone, her stunning figure was unmistakable. She wore a delicate black lace bra that cupped and lifted her full tits, creating an enticing cleavage. A matching garter belt hugged her narrow waist, leading to sheer stockings that emphasized her long, toned legs. High-cut lace panties completed the ensemble, leaving little to the imagination. The scent of her expensive perfume, a light, floral fragrance, wafted towards him, adding to the intoxicating effect of her presence. "May I come in?" Crystal whispered, her voice barely audible. Andy nodded, stepping aside to let her enter. As she passed, he couldn't help but notice how the lace hugged the curve of her perfect, heart-shaped ass. Crystal closed the door behind her, hesitated for a brief moment, then turned to face him. "I thought I might; fulfill my end of the bargain," she said softly, her posture shifting to emphasize her curves. She took a step closer, her blue eyes locked on his. "I'm here to show my appreciation, in whatever way you'd like." Andy smiled ruefully, taking in her body but thinking about his encounter with Sarah only a few minutes ago. He knew he almost certainly wouldn't be able to get hard so soon. Not wanting to reveal this, he decided to try to play it off, raising a hand to stop her. "Hey, relax, we just got here. You don't have to worry about that right now." He forced his eyes away from her perky tits and up to her eyes. Crystal's demeanor deflated slightly, a mix of surprise, relief and disappointment crossing her face. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice small. "I; I wanted to be useful to you. I even put on this outfit, just for you, sir." She raised her arms above her head and twirled slowly like a ballerina, showing off her body from all angles. As she rotated, Andy's eyes were drawn to her long, shapely legs. The sheer stockings accentuated every curve, from her delicate ankles to her toned calves and up to her perfectly proportioned thighs. The high-cut panties drew attention to the junction where her legs met her torso, emphasizing the enticing curve of her hips. Her backside was a work of art, two rounded globes, neither too large nor too small, but ideally suited to her frame. The lace of her panties clung to the curves, outlining the heart shape of her ass and hinting at the soft valley between. Unable to help himself, Andy reached out, giving her ass an affectionate squeeze. His hand was met with an enticing balance of firmness and give, soft enough to be incredibly inviting, yet firm enough to maintain its shape, smooth and warm to the touch. Crystal jumped slightly at the contact but quickly tried to play it off, her body instinctively pressing back into his hand for a brief moment before she caught herself. "I appreciate it, truly," Andy said. "But there's no hurry. I'm sure there will be plenty of time for that later." He paused. "If you want to be useful, maybe you could start by making us all coffee in the morning." "I see," Crystal said, turning to face him again. She took a moment to regain her composure, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, I promise it will be the best coffee you've ever had. The most mind-blowing, hot, tight, wet coffee ever." She winked. Leaning in close, she whispered in his ear, her breath hot against his skin. "If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me." With that, she turned and left the room, the soft click of the door the only sound in the quiet night. Andy sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair as he processed what had just happened. The image of Crystal in that lingerie was seared into his mind, and he knew it would be a long time before he could forget it. Day 8, Morning The early morning silence in the consulate was profound. Andy woke to sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting long shadows across his room. The building's stillness felt almost reverential, as if the world itself was holding its breath. He rose and headed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face and quickly freshening up. The morning routine felt almost normal, a small piece of civilization preserved in their diplomatic sanctuary. Through the window, he could see fog rolling in from the bay, wreathing the silent city in gray. The building's old pipes groaned softly as he washed, the sound echoing through the empty corridors. Andy made his way downstairs to the break room adjacent the kitchen, settling into one of the chairs. Moments later, Crystal appeared carrying a tray with coffee and sugar. She wore loose-fitting silk pajamas that somehow managed to look both casual and elegant, the fabric draping softly over her curves. The absence of a bra was subtle but noticeable, with her perky tits shaking beautifully, and her hard nipples sticking up proudly. "I wasn't sure how you liked your coffee, sir. Unfortunately we don't have milk," she said, putting a soft emphasis on the word "sir" that sent a shiver down his spine. "This is fine, I like it black, thank you," Andy replied, reaching for the cup. "You're going to work on the map of scavenging sites in the area today, right?" "Yes sir. I'll get started on it after my yoga this morning," Crystal responded with a small smile before turning to leave. She paused at the doorway. "Enjoy your coffee, I'll be in my room if you need me." Andy sipped his coffee, appreciating its rich flavor, momentarily distracted by thoughts of Crystal, before returning to scrolling through Beacon on his phone. The posts about San Francisco painted a slowly emerging picture: survivors were gradually congregating at the Presidio, though organization remained loose. Someone had started cataloging available medical supplies across the city's hospitals. Another person was working on getting a solar array functioning at the city hall. A post from the Presidio account caught his attention, they'd designated Land's End as a mass grave site, with plans to begin proper burials soon. Several volunteers with construction equipment were already clearing space. Andy made a mental note, it would be a better option than his original plan of taking the diplomat's body to the sea. He composed a quick message to Mike: "Made it to SF. Secured shelter @ Korean consulate. How's drive north? Your mom?" A few more posts mentioned growing communities forming in Marin and the East Bay, but nothing substantial yet. Most survivors seemed to be following the same instinct, head toward major population centers, look for others, try to rebuild. The Presidio's natural defensive position and former military infrastructure made it an obvious rallying point. Andy finished his coffee, letting the now familiar routine of morning research ground him in this strange new world. The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew his attention. Sarah and Daniela appeared, both looking refreshed despite their slightly sleepy expressions. The consulate's secure walls had clearly provided them their first proper rest in days. "Morning," Sarah said, stifling a yawn. She wore her usual athletic wear, while Daniela was already dressed in camo pants and a t-shirt. "Crystal made coffee, there's some in the kitchen if you want some," Andy offered, gesturing with his empty cup. "Oh god, yes please," Sarah replied, heading for the kitchen. She paused, noticing Daniela's hesitation. "Have you never had coffee?" Daniela shook her head. "Dad said I was too young." "Well, you're basically living adult life now," Sarah said gently. "Might as well try it. Here, I'll make you one." They returned moments later, Sarah handling her cup with ease while Daniela examined hers with suspicion. She took a careful sip and grimaced. "It's; intense," she said diplomatically. Sarah laughed. "Try adding some sugar. Most people don't start with it black." Daniela followed the suggestion, her expression softening as she tasted it again. "Better," she admitted. "I can see why you like it." "Have either of you checked Beacon this morning?" Andy asked. Both shook their heads, so Andy summarized what he'd learned. They listened intently. He watched as a dark expression cast over them both when he brought up the Land's End grave. "Yeah, speaking of which," he added, his tone growing more serious, "we should probably deal with the, ah, body outside. Wrap it properly until we can take it to Land's End." "I'll help," Sarah offered, squaring her shoulders slightly. "I need to get better at handling this kind of thing. Can't be squeamish anymore." Daniela set down her coffee. "I know where the large garbage bags are. They're heavy-duty, should work until we can get something better." Day 8, Midmorning "You sure you don't want to wear something more; practical?" Andy asked, watching Sarah adjust her deep blue Lululemon set in the hallway mirror. "This is practical," she insisted, giving him a little view. The tight sports bra and leggings left little to the imagination, showing off her gentle abs and toned curves. She then covered herself in the North Face jacket he'd selected for her from their scavenged supplies. "Besides, first impressions matter. We want to seem approachable." Andy checked his holstered Glock, making sure it was secure but not too visible under his jacket. "Fine, but at least wear your boots instead of those running shoes." They'd packed their backpacks thoughtfully, bottles of antibiotics carefully wrapped in cloth, and several dozen apples from the fruit stand. "The medicine is what they really need," Andy explained as they prepared to leave, "but I think fresh fruit will mean more to them emotionally. A lot of it in the city will have spoiled by now." "Makes sense," Sarah nodded, shouldering her pack. "A little taste of normal." Andy turned to Daniela, who was studying a building layout. "You good here? Remember, no answering the door-" "Unless it's you guys, I know," she cut him off with a hint of teenage exasperation. "I'll figure out the best spots for the mines and come up with a defense plan." She pointed at a few spots she had already marked on the layout. "I've already found a few spots here." Crystal looked up from where she was marking locations on a large map of San Francisco. "I've marked three promising grocery stores within walking distance," she offered, her braless chest hanging downward as she bent over the map. "I'll have a full scavenging map ready by the evening." "Perfect," Andy said. "We shouldn't be more than a few hours. Mainly just want to get a sense of what's happening at the Presidio, make some connections." He glanced at Sarah. "Ready?" Sarah nodded, and they headed out into the quiet streets of their new city. The morning fog had mostly burned off, revealing a neighborhood frozen in time. Expensive cars sat in driveways, morning newspapers still sat on pristine lawns, and recycling bins waited patiently for a pickup that would never come. The silence was absolute except for the occasional bird call and the whisper of wind through untended gardens. "Look," Sarah pointed, "A Tesla, Model Y. And it's plugged in." Andy marked the location on his phone. "Good catch. That'll be useful later when we're looking for vehicles that don't need gas." They turned onto Jackson Street, where a dark blue Rivian R1T sat parked beneath a row of cherry trees. Andy added its coordinates to their growing list of resources. The houses stood as silent witnesses to the abrupt end of normalcy, gardens still meticulously maintained, windows spotlessly clean, patio furniture arranged for evening cocktails that would never be served. Just eight days ago, this had been one of San Francisco's most exclusive neighborhoods. Now it was a museum piece, preserved in perfect, haunting detail. "It's so weird," Sarah said softly, eyes scanning the immaculate homes around them. "Everything looks exactly like it did before. Like any minute now, people will start coming out to get their mail or walk their dogs." As they walked past another row of silent houses, Sarah glanced at Andy with a playful smile. "Sleep well?" Andy caught her eye and winked. "Very well. Mind's quite clear and focused today, thank you." "Good," she said softly, reaching for his hand and giving it a quick squeeze. "Maybe we can go for round two later today." Their fingers lingered together for a moment before separating, both of them smiling as they continued their walk through the quiet neighborhood. Movement ahead caught their attention, another woman walking alone toward the Presidio. She was in her early thirties, wearing expensive yoga pants and a Patagonia fleece that had seen better days. Her brown hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she kept glancing around nervously as she walked. "Hey," Andy called out softly, not wanting to startle her. She jumped slightly anyway, then relaxed a bit when she saw Sarah. "Oh! Hi," she replied, maintaining a careful distance. Her wedding ring glinted in the morning light, though she was obviously alone. "Would you like an apple?" Andy offered, already reaching into his pack. "We just picked them yesterday." Her eyes lit up. "Really? Fresh fruit?" She stepped closer, accepting the apple with trembling hands. "Thank you. I've been living on protein bars and coconut water from my pantry." She took a bite immediately, closing her eyes briefly at the taste. "I'm Rachel, by the way." "I'm Andy, this is Sarah," Andy replied. "Heading to the Presidio?" Rachel nodded, wiping juice from her chin. "Yeah. I've been holed up in my apartment, but;" She gestured vaguely. "I figured I should see what's happening, maybe find other people. It's getting a little scary being alone. Are you two staying nearby?" "Yeah, we just got into the city," Andy said carefully. "We're a small group, set up at the Korean consulate." He made a mental note, another survivor with no immediately obvious useful skills for their core group. "Oh," Rachel said, seemingly hoping for an invitation that didn't come. "Well, I'm at 2740 Jackson if you; if anyone needs anything. Though I don't have much to offer." "Thanks." said Andy. "Let us know if you need anything as well." "Well, to be honest I could use some food. That's mostly why I'm going to the Presidio." "We don't have a ton to spare right now, but we are planning to go on some scavenging runs soon. We have a truck. If you wanted to join us, we could offer you a split of what we recover." "Oh, that would be great." said Rachel. "Let me get your Beacon handle, let me know when you decide to go." They walked together in silence for a few moments before Rachel spoke again. "Did either of you lose much family?" she asked quietly. "My husband was in New York for meetings when, you know." She twisted her ring absently. "We all lost people," Sarah said gently but firmly, cutting off that line of conversation. Rachel nodded, understanding the boundary. The walk continued in silence. They emerged from the tree line, and the main parade ground of the Presidio opened up before them. What had once been a pristine lawn had transformed into a makeshift settlement of perhaps four or five hundred survivors. Colorful camping tents dotted the grass in loose clusters, many bearing high-end outdoor brand names, testament to San Francisco's wealthy outdoor enthusiast population. Larger military-style tents had been erected at strategic points, including a prominent medical station marked by a red cross fashioned from spray paint. Two nurses in scrubs moved between cots visible through the open flaps. A row of folding tables had been set up near the old barracks, forming an impromptu marketplace. Someone had already established a basic trading post, advertising "batteries, solar chargers, and medicine." Next to it, a woman stood behind a table of sorted electrical equipment, carefully logging exchanges in a notebook. Hand-painted signs stuck in the ground advertised various needs and corresponding Beacon handles: "Needed: Electricians for solar project" "Volunteers wanted, water purification" "Medical Skills? Report to Tent 4" "Engineers needed, power grid planning" The gender disparity was immediately apparent, women outnumbered men significantly, matching the pattern they'd seen elsewhere. A few men in partial military or police uniforms walked the perimeter, rifles slung across their backs. One carried himself with particular authority, speaking into a handheld radio as he made his rounds. A group of women was setting up what looked like a communal kitchen, sorting through boxes of supplies. Nearby, someone had rigged a solar panel to charge phones and laptops, with a small crowd gathered around it. The air smelled of campfire smoke and cooking food, punctuated by the distinctive scent of unwashed bodies and physical labor. "Oh my god," Rachel breathed, taking in the scope of the settlement. "I had no idea there were this many," she noted, eyes wide. Andy studied the scene carefully, noting the mix of organization and chaos. While some basic systems were clearly being established, there was no real sense of central authority yet. Just people with useful skills trying to help where they could, while others waited for direction. A woman with a clipboard approached them, her manner friendly but professional. "Welcome to the Presidio Settlement. Are you here to join us or just checking in?" "The two of us are just checking in," Andy said, gesturing to Sarah. As another volunteer stepped forward to speak with Rachel, he continued, "We arrived in San Francisco yesterday, we've set up in the Korean consulate building. We brought antibiotics and some apples we snagged on the way here, wanted to offer them as a donation." He offered her one of the apples. "Donations are greatly appreciated," the clipboard woman said warmly, accepting the apple. "I'm Alice, by the way." "Are you a volunteer here?" Andy asked. "Yep, been here three days now. We're trying to make a directory of people in the area, if you're okay with me taking down your information?" Sarah glanced at Andy, who nodded. "Sure." "Okay, great." Alice flipped to a fresh page. "Name and age?" "Andy Rhee, 28." She nodded, writing. "We're cataloging useful skills. I'll read through the list, just let me know which apply: Medical training? Engineering? Electrical? Plumbing? Construction? Military experience? Hunting? Navigation? Survival skills? Agriculture? Animal husbandry? Radio operations? Vehicle maintenance? Water treatment? Solar installation?" "I was a park ranger before all this," Andy replied. "So yes to navigation, survival skills, and hunting. Basic first aid training. I'm good with radios too, amateur operator license." Alice made several check marks, nodding appreciatively. "That's actually really useful, we don't have many people with real wilderness experience. A lot of the survivors here worked in tech, myself included." She gestured at the camp. "Lots of programmers, not many who can track game or build shelters." "I'm sure," Andy said dryly. Alice turned to Sarah. "And you?" "I was;" Sarah hesitated, "just a biology student. UCLA, second year. Nothing really useful like Andy." "Hey, don't sell yourself short," Alice said kindly. "Most people here were also doing jobs that don't matter anymore. We're planning to set up training groups, teaching practical skills. Biology could be helpful with agriculture, medicine, lots of things." Sarah simply nodded, looking slightly relieved. "We have two others in our group," Andy added. "Daniela's fourteen, but she has extensive survival, hunting, and military training from her father, he was a Marine, and a; ah; prepper. She can do some vehicle maintenance too I think. And Crystal;" he paused, realizing he didn't know her age. "Well, she'd also need to reskill." Alice's eyebrows rose as she made notes. "A teenager with military training? Interesting." She flipped through her papers. "You should talk to Guillermo Herrera; he was in the Army. He's been trying to organize some basic defense planning for the Presidio. And Diana Wells has been looking for people with hunting experience, trying to put together expeditions to supplement our food supplies." She made a final note. "Do you have a Beacon handle? We're trying to keep a communication network going." Andy gave her his handle, which she copied down carefully. "Well, welcome to the Presidio," Alice said warmly. "We're glad to have people with real survival skills join the community. Even if they're not living here directly," she added with a smile. "Thanks. Oh also, you said 'We're trying to make a directory' earlier. Who is we? Some kind of leadership?" "Nothing formal yet, but there's a group. Mostly people with different types of expertise. I don't know all of them, but Megan Lunn is the one coordinating us. She's great, I trust her a lot." "Great, thanks." As they walked deeper into the settlement, Sarah moved closer to Andy, lowering her voice. "Are you sure it was smart to tell them so much? About where we're staying, our skills, Daniela's training?" Andy considered her question thoughtfully. "Well, here's what I'm thinking. The Presidio is almost certainly going to become the, or at least one of, the centers of power in San Francisco. It's inevitable. The location, the infrastructure, the natural defenses, and it's already starting to get established before anywhere else. If we ever get to a point where we regret having told them our information," He shrugged. "Well, by then we'd already be pretty screwed. We'd probably need to leave the city entirely anyway." "So little downside to being open?" Sarah asked, watching a group of women organizing supplies nearby. "Exactly. I think I'm going to try to talk to Megan and get myself involved early, try to shape how things develop." Andy kept his voice low but confident. "Being cooperative and open now gives us more influence later. If we tried to stay completely separate or, like, secretive, we'd just look suspicious. Then we'd be outsiders trying to affect things from the margins instead of a respected part of the community." Sarah nodded slowly, processing his logic. "If the Presidio is going to be the power here, might as well join it and be a leader within it. I get it." "Yeah. Don't worry," Andy assured her. To be continued. Based on a post by the hospital, for Literotica.

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Andy’s Brave New World: Part 2 The group leaves Yosemite, encounters Crystal. Based on a post by the hospital. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Day 7, Morning The morning sun caught the fresh paint scratches on the two Ford F-350 Super Duty trucks as they pulled out of the Yosemite Valley maintenance yard. Both were recent-model crew cabs in dark green, commandeered from the park's heavy maintenance fleet, their diesel engines rumbling with carefully checked fluid levels and fresh filters. Andy drove the lead vehicle, while Daniela rode shotgun, her Remington propped against the center console within easy reach and the binoculars Andy had found yesterday hanging around her neck. She sat at attention, eyes sweeping the tree line. Despite the A/C, they were sweating a little under their body armor. In the truck's bed, they'd packed their supplies with care. Multiple jerry cans of diesel fuel secured in metal racks, the heavy weapons cache (including the RPG and its rockets, carefully cushioned), cases of ammunition, tactical gear, and the most essential survival equipment. The rear seats held their medical supplies, communications gear including the Starlink array, and several days of ready-to-eat food and water. Sarah followed close behind in the second truck, its bed loaded with the bulk of their food stores, camping equipment, tools, and additional fuel. She'd gotten her way about the clothing, she wore a matching set in a striking deep purple: high-waisted Alo Yoga leggings that hugged every curve and a longline sports bra under a cropped zip-up jacket. Her highlighted hair was styled in loose waves, and she'd even put on light makeup. "If we get into any actual fighting, I'll be useless anyway," she had insisted, gesturing at Andy and Daniela's tactical loadouts. "You two are the ones with the training. I'm just a driver." She gave one of her practiced smiles. "Besides, first impressions matter. When we meet other survivors, one of us should look; approachable." Andy had started to argue, but Daniela simply shrugged. "She's right. We look scary. It'd be good to have someone look not scary." The conversation had ended there. Now, as they passed the park boundaries, Daniela pulled out their carefully annotated road atlas. Their route would take them west on Highway 140, then north on 99 through the Central Valley, avoiding both Fresno and Modesto. They'd skirt Sacramento to the east, then cut west to the Bay Area through the Delta region. The path balanced speed with security, staying on main roads for ease of travel while avoiding major population centers. "Time check," Daniela's tense voice crackled over their handhelds. "0700 hours. Three hours to the first waypoint." "Have you spent much time outside of the park?" Andy asked, trying to see if conversation might help her relax. Daniela shook her head, staring out the window at the wooded hills. "No, not really. Just for track meets. Dad hates cities. He'd always complain to the school that our trips weren't secure enough." Andy had a sudden mental image of Miguel lecturing an exasperated school bus driver on sight lines and evasive maneuvers. He chuckled slightly. "Yeah, that sounds like him." Noticing Daniela still looking somber, he tried to pivot. "Well, are you excited to see San Francisco?" A pause. "I don't know. I know it's the right place to go, but I'm a little scared to leave Yosemite behind." She looked off into the distance. "I'll definitely miss being in nature." "You might be surprised, SF has a lot of parks and green spaces. Maybe we'll end up somewhere nice." Day 7, Midday The Sierra foothills gave way to the Central Valley floor, and with it came the strange emptiness of abandoned agriculture. Vast almond orchards stretched to the horizon, their spring blossoms still clinging to the branches. A dairy farm's holding pens still contained its imprisoned casualties, forcing them to detour around the sprawling facility to avoid the smell. In an adjacent field, a small herd of escaped cattle grazed freely, looking up at the trucks' passage with mild curiosity. They passed a tomato field where harvesting machines stood frozen mid-row, the ripe fruit beginning to soften on the vine. "Movement, two o'clock, approximately two miles out," Daniela reported suddenly, her binoculars trained on the horizon. "Vehicle heading north." She tracked it for a moment, dust trail visible against the morning sky. "Pickup truck, moving fast. Can't make out details at this distance." Her voice remained neutral, but her grip tightened slightly on the Remington. Andy glanced in the indicated direction but kept the truck steadily on course. In the rearview mirror, he saw Sarah's truck maintain its careful following distance. After a few minutes, Daniela lowered the binoculars. "Vehicle has maintained its course northward. No change in direction." The radio crackled. "Everything okay up there?" Sarah's voice carried a hint of nerves. "Just another survivor," Andy replied. "They're heading away from us. Nothing to worry about." They passed through Merced without incident. The smaller city was eerily still, traffic signals dark at every intersection. A home security alarm wailed somewhere in the distance, its battery backup still functioning after a week without power. The highway was mostly clear, the outbreak had moved too quickly for large-scale evacuation traffic. Sarah's voice crackled over the radio: "Hey, I've had cell signal for the last few minutes, must be near a tower that's still running. There's a Beacon post from yesterday, someone near Turlock warning about a big pileup blocking the 99 around Keyes Road. They've been detouring around it on country roads." "Noted," Daniela responded crisply, already marking the atlas. "OK, here's the alternate route. We'll exit at Pueblo Avenue, rejoin the 99 past the blockage." She paused, then added with mechanical precision: "Adding fifteen minutes to estimated arrival time. Let us know if you see any other posts while you have signal." "Actually, let's stop real quick so I can give you my phone, it looks like I'm more likely to get signal than you, and I shouldn't be looking at this while trying to drive this thing." The valley heat was building as the day wore on. The radio stayed quiet. Each member of their small convoy seemed lost in their own thoughts, processing the scale of the abandonment around them. Occasionally they'd pass a house or farm with a hastily painted "Help" sign. Once they saw a pickup truck that had crashed into a pole, its driver still sitting upright behind the wheel, succumbing to the virus before the accident could kill them. As they approached the outskirts of Modesto, Daniela began scanning the atlas with renewed intensity, plotting their route around the city center. The midday sun cast a strong heat, and in the distance a thin column of smoke rose from somewhere in the city's north- whether from an electrical fire or something else, they couldn't tell. "Contact ahead, approximately one mile south," Daniela reported suddenly, binoculars trained on the distant road. "Single vehicle, silver Mercedes sedan. One subject visible outside the vehicle." She paused as she assessed the scene. "Vehicle appears to have front-end damage. Subject is; actively signaling for assistance." Andy keyed his radio. "Sarah, hang back for as sec." Through the windshield, he could just barely make out a glint of metal on the horizon. "Copy that," Sarah responded, as she let her truck slow to a stop behind them. "Update on subject?" Andy asked. Daniela adjusted her optics slightly. "Female, white. Light-colored hair. No visible weapons. Standing clear of the vehicle, continuing to wave." She swept her view across the surrounding terrain. "I don't see any other movement." They approached slowly, staying in the northbound lane, until they were about a hundred yards from the Mercedes. Andy could now make out a figure in light-colored clothing standing near the disabled vehicle's front end, still waving periodically. "Hello!" a woman's voice carried across the distance. "Please, I could really use some help!" "Stay where you are!" Andy called back through his opened window. "Are you alone?" "Yes! Just me! My car hit something back there, I think the suspension's broken!" Andy glanced at Daniela, who gave a slight nod. "Could be a trap," Daniela said quietly, though her tone suggested she didn't really believe it. "Though; it's a really crappy location for an ambush. A random gravel side-road in the middle of the fields? Plus you have poor sight lines, no cover, and multiple escape routes for potential targets." "Agreed," Andy said. He keyed his radio again. "Sarah, we're going to pull up closer. Stay a little bit behind us." They rolled forward slowly, closing the distance to the disabled Mercedes. As they got closer, the woman took a few steps back from her car, keeping her hands visible. Andy's breath caught slightly as her features came into focus. Even disheveled and stressed, she was stunning, the kind of beauty that belonged in magazines, not stranded on an abandoned highway. Tall and gracefully built, probably 5'9", with the kind of natural curves that didn't need strategic athletic wear to enhance them. Her light red-orange hair fell past her shoulders in natural waves, gleaming in the midday sun despite the obvious lack of styling products. Her face was a study in classical proportions, high cheekbones, full lips, straight nose, and large bright blue eyes framed by naturally long lashes. Even with smudged makeup and a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, her beauty remained striking. She wore form-fitting designer jeans that accentuated her long, slender legs, paired with an ivory silk blouse that was wrinkled and stained with grease from her attempted car repair. Impractical Italian leather boots completed the ensemble, the kind meant for Los Angeles sidewalks rather than Central Valley backroads. Despite her obvious exhaustion and the stress evident in her expression, there was something magnetic about her presence, an effortless grace that made even her nervous fidgeting seem elegant. Andy keyed his radio. "Sarah, we're going to talk to her. She's almost certainly not a threat. Your call whether to stay in your truck or join us." "Come with me," he said quietly to Daniela. "Stay alert." He opened his door and stepped out, Daniela following smoothly with her rifle held low but ready. The woman's face brightened with a nervous but dazzling smile as they approached. She took a step forward with her hand extended, but stopped when Andy halted several paces away. "Thank you so much for stopping," she said, letting her hand drop gracefully to her side. "I'm Crystal. Crystal Parker." Andy kept his stance neutral but ready. "Where are you coming from? Where are you headed?" "I'm from Manteca," she replied, her eyes flicking briefly to Daniela's rifle before returning to Andy. "I was trying to get back to my apartment in L A, but;" She gestured at her car with a delicate wave. "The highways were so crowded with abandoned cars, I thought the back roads would be safer." "Did you get sick?" Andy asked directly. "During the outbreak?" Crystal nodded. "Yes, but just a mild fever for a day or two. Not like;" Her voice caught slightly. "Not like everyone else, like my parents." She stopped, composing herself with visible effort. Behind them, Andy heard Sarah's truck pull up. Crystal's eyes shifted to watch Sarah's approach, something subtle changing in her expression. "What happened to your car?" Andy pressed. "I hit something; maybe a pothole or debris, I'm not sure. There was this awful noise and then;" She gestured helplessly at the front end. "I don't know anything about cars. I tried looking at it, but;" "Why are you going to L A? Are there people waiting for you there?" Andy asked. "Anyone you know who survived?" Crystal's shoulders dropped slightly. "No, I; I haven't been able to contact anyone. I just;" She gave a small, elegant shrug, simultaneously helpless and dignified. "I didn't know what else to do. Where else to go. I thought maybe; maybe going home made sense?" The last part came out as almost a question, like she was realizing for the first time how little sense it made. A pause, then, "If you don't mind me asking; what's your name? Where are you all headed?" "I'm Andy," he answered. "That's Sarah and Daniela. We're heading north to San Francisco." Crystal took this as permission to step closer, extending her hand again. This time Andy accepted it, noting the contrast between her dainty fingers and the engine grease on her fingertips from her attempted repairs. Their eyes met as they shook hands, and Andy found himself momentarily stunned by her beauty up close; the perfect symmetry of her features, the remarkable clarity of her blue eyes, the way the midday sun caught golden highlights in her hair. She gave a small wave to Sarah and Daniela behind him, her smile warm and practiced. "Nice to meet you all. Sarah, I love your jacket." "Thanks" mumbled Sarah, briefly taken aback by the brief change in topic. "I hate to ask, but;" Crystal glanced back at her Mercedes. "Is there any chance you could take a look at my car? Or;" She hesitated, then continued with careful tact, "Or maybe give me a ride somewhere I could find another car? I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm really not sure what to do out here." "Give us a second to discuss it," Andy said. He gestured for Sarah and Daniela to follow him a few paces away, out of earshot. "Looking at the front end damage and the way it's sitting, could be a broken control arm, maybe the sub frame," Daniela said quietly. "Either way, we'd need a lift and replacement parts. Not something we can fix on the road." "So the car's done," Andy summarized. "Question is, do we give her a ride?" "To L A?" Sarah asked skeptically. "That's like three hours away, more like six at the speed we've been going, and totally the wrong direction. To another car, maybe. Honestly;" She glanced back at Crystal, who stood waiting with perfect posture. "I know I'm not exactly Rambo here, but at least I can handle myself OK. She looks totally clueless." Sarah paused, then added with careful casualness, "She is, uh, gorgeous, though." Her eyes flicked to Andy's face, studying his reaction. Andy kept his expression neutral, though his heart raced slightly at just the thought of Crystal's striking features. The idea of leaving her stranded here seemed unthinkable, but he didn't want to appear too eager. "We could offer to let her come with us to San Francisco," he suggested, trying to sound logical rather than hopeful. "She'd never make it to L A alone anyway." "Well, she has no supplies, no useful skills;" Sarah started. "We don't know that," Daniela interjected, then paused. "Well, yeah, she probably doesn't. But still, we should help her," the younger girl said firmly. Her voice softened. "Dad always said the whole point of our preparations was so we could help others when the time came. That's why we trained so hard, why we stored so much." She glanced at Crystal, then back at the group. "Someone like her, no survival skills, no supplies, no real plan; that's exactly who he meant. We have room in the trucks. It's not that much further to San Francisco." Sarah sighed. "Fine. We can give her a ride to San Francisco. But that doesn't mean she is a part of our group." Andy raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing at his lips. "Oh, we're officially a group now?" "Yes," Sarah said defensively. "We are. The three of us." Andy's smile faded as he recognized her genuine concern. He raised a hand and gently touched her arm. "Hey, I get it. Don't worry, I was kidding. We'll stick together, I promise." Daniela nodded, and Sarah relaxed slightly. "Okay." Andy turned and walked back to Crystal, who had been waiting with patience. "To us, it looks like the damage here isn't something we can fix, it needs replacement parts and proper equipment." Crystal's shoulders dropped again. "Also;" Andy continued carefully, "L A isn't a good place to go, now that we don't have working agriculture." He gestured vaguely around them at the quiet, empty fields. "They're gonna have real trouble with food after they scavenge everything already there." He paused to let that sink in. "We can give you a ride to somewhere you can find another car if you want. But you're also welcome to come with us to San Francisco. The Bay Area is better for a lot of reasons; it has better natural resources, direct access to farmland, etcetera. Your choice." Crystal bit her lower lip, considering. "Could I; could I think about it on the way back to a main highway?" Andy nodded. "Of course. No rush to decide." "Okay," Crystal smiled warmly. "Thank you again, I really appreciate this. Let me just grab my things." Sarah and Daniela headed back to the trucks while Andy accompanied Crystal to her Mercedes. She popped the trunk, revealing a large designer suitcase. As Andy reached for it, she gave him another dazzling smile. "You all seem so; prepared," she said softly. "I've been feeling so lost, but watching how organized you are, how you think everything through;" She trailed off as Andy lifted her suitcase. "It's impressive. Makes me feel a little less scared, you know?" To everyone's surprise, Crystal walked to the front of Andy's truck, opening the passenger door. "Oh, I;" Andy started, but Crystal was already sliding smoothly into the middle seat between the driver and passenger positions. "I hope you don't mind," she said. "I'd love to hear more about your plans, and why you think L A isn't safe. If I'm going to change my whole direction, I should probably understand why, right?" The back row was too full of equipment to sit there, so she settled in next to Daniela, the tight fit of three people in the front inevitable. Sarah caught Andy's eye, rolled hers, and shrugged before silently getting into her truck. Andy's mouth went briefly dry at the thought of Crystal pressed against him in the cramped space, but he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. Day 7, Early Afternoon The abandoned fruit stand provided a welcome break from driving, its weathered picnic tables shaded by an old oak tree. Fresh peaches and plums, barely starting to over-ripen, made a sweet complement to their rehydrated camping meals. The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows across their impromptu lunch setup. It hadn't taken much to convince Crystal to change her plans and head to San Francisco instead of Los Angeles. Though Andy wasn't entirely sure she'd fully grasped the strategic reasoning behind why L A was a poor choice, she seemed to have quickly intuited that his group knew what they were doing and that she'd be better off following their lead. Daniela had grown surprisingly talkative during the drive, opening up to Crystal about her father's training regimen after Crystal had shown genuine interest in her rifle. Now she sat quietly eating her peach, some of her usual tension eased. "So," Sarah asked, casually as she picked at her meal, "Have you thought about what you'll do once we reach San Francisco?" Crystal dabbed delicately at her mouth with a napkin. "I suppose I'll need to find my place, see where I can be useful." She pretended not to notice the implication of separation behind Sarah's question. "What kind of work do you do?" Sarah pressed. "I'm a receptionist at an investment firm," Crystal admitted with a small, self-deprecating smile. "And before that I was a model. Neither are exactly critical post-apocalyptic skill sets." She straightened slightly, her natural poise asserting itself. "But I used to babysit for some of the executives' children. I'm good with kids, really good, actually. I've been thinking maybe I could help set up some kind of care center, for orphans or children who've lost their families." Her voice softened. "There must be so many of them now." Andy stood, brushing crumbs from his pants. "Need to hit the head," he said, heading toward the small concrete building at the edge of the property. When Andy emerged from the bathroom, he was startled to find Crystal standing outside, her sudden presence making him take a quick step back. Her beauty was striking. She stood with her arms clasped behind her back, the posture naturally thrusting her full, pert tits forward against her silk blouse. Her head was tilted slightly to one side, a delicate smile playing across her full lips as she looked up at him through long lashes. She'd deliberately left the top few buttons of her blouse undone, the thin fabric draping open to reveal tantalizing glimpses of lace-trimmed cleavage and smooth, flawless skin. The silk draped enticingly over her narrow waist, and her entire stance radiated a calculated vulnerability that made her seem both alluring and in need of protection. "I'm sorry," she said softly, raising a hand gently in hello. "I just wanted to talk. Privately." She stepped closer, close enough that Andy could smell her perfume, something light and expensive that she must have brought with her despite the apocalypse. Her proximity was dizzying, making it hard for him to focus. Andy was glad that the bathroom building hid them from view of the others. "I can tell Sarah wants me to find my own way once we reach the city," she said, her voice gentle, her blue eyes meeting his. "And I understand, I'm not trained like Daniela or resourceful like her. But;" She took another small step closer, her voice dropping. "I'd much rather stay with your group. With you." Andy started to respond, but Crystal continued, her voice taking on a subtle warmth. "I know I'm not useful in the traditional sense, but;" She glanced down, then back up through her lashes. "I could make it worth your while. In other ways." Her lips curved in a small, knowing smile. "And I wouldn't be reluctant about it at all. You're very attractive, and I'd be happy to show you my appreciation. Very happy." She placed a delicate hand against his chest, then slowly slid it down his torso until she found his hardening shaft through his tactical pants, giving it a gentle squeeze and rub that made his breath catch. Her breath was hot against his neck as she whispered, "I think I could make you feel really good. And I'm not jealous. I've seen the way you look at Sarah. If you also wanted her too, I wouldn't mind at all." She turned smoothly and pressed her round ass against his crotch with practiced ease, grinding against him in a way that made his hand instinctively slide from her arm to her tit, squeezing the soft fullness through her silk blouse. She threw him a knowing wink as she pulled away, fixing her blouse. "Just think about it, please, sir" she said, then walked back toward the picnic area with her natural model's grace. Andy leaned against the concrete wall, his heart racing and body still responding to Crystal's touch. The fantasy was immediate and overwhelming, Crystal's skilled hands and mouth pleasuring him, her full lips on his, while Sarah rode his cock, both women competing for his attention. He'd already decided he wanted Crystal to stay with them even before her proposition, though he'd need to find a way to present it to Sarah. Taking several deep breaths, he straightened his uniform and walked back to the group. "I've been lots of times." Sarah said, as Andy caught the tail end of their conversation. "Recently for photoshoots at the famous spots, the Golden Gate, Lombard Street, Palace of Fine Arts. So mostly tourist spots I guess." Andy grabbed a few apples from a nearby crate, tossing one to each of them. "These look good," he said, trying to keep his tone casual, though his mind was still swimming with erotic possibilities. "We should take a few crates for the road." As he distributed the fruit, he noticed Sarah's quick glance between him and Crystal. "I've only been twice, for track meets. We mostly stayed near the Golden Gate Park." said Daniela. I used to go pretty often." Crystal chimed in. "The modeling agency I was with was actually headquartered in San Francisco rather than L A. They claimed it was part of them being a more realistic, less superficial brand." She looked to Sarah. "We also did photoshoots at those spots, I wonder if we ever overlapped and just didn't know it." she said sweetly. "You're a model? I mean you look amazing." "Oh, thanks, no, just Instagram" said Sarah self-deprecatingly. "Nothing legit. I had like, a decent following, good for free gear from sponsors and stuff but not really enough for a living." "No, that's cool! I could never, too much effort to post and make hashtags and plan everything out. I was always better when people told me where to go, what to wear, how to pose, you know. But, it sounds empowering to be in control of your content. Although I guess then you've gotta cater to your audience more directly. Did you ever think about Only Fans?" Andy raised an eyebrow, while Daniela chomped on her apple only half attentive. "No, never." said Sarah firmly. "Not my thing." Her cheeks took on some color as she bristled at the suggestion. Crystal raised a hand in graceful apology. "I didn't mean any offense, sorry. We didn't have much money growing up, and I wasn't great at school. I don't think there's anything wrong with using what you have. She turned to Andy. "What about you, Andy? Have you been to San Francisco before? Where are you from actually? You haven't said much." There was a brief pause at the table. Crystal had just broken the unspoken post-apocalypse rule against asking people about their past if they didn't volunteer it. Perhaps in realization of this, Crystal slid a hand surreptitiously under the table and rested it gently against Andy's thigh. "I'm from Seattle." he said, in a stiff tone. He thought to his parents and brother, back in Korea, probably dead. "I've been to San Francisco a few times." he said curtly. Crystal gave him an understanding, apologetic smile, which he tried to return. "Are we done?" he said, glancing around the table. "Go to the bathroom if you guys need, and we should head out." Day 7, Afternoon The early afternoon sun cast shadows across Interstate 580 as their two-truck convoy approached Oakland. Traffic thinned out considerably after they'd managed to navigate around several major blockages, but abandoned vehicles still dotted the shoulder sporadically, silent witnesses to the chaos of those final days. Andy kept one eye on his rearview mirror, checking that Sarah was following OK. Crystal had switched to riding with Sarah after their lunch stop, the two women seemingly settling into an uneasy quiet, while Daniela maintained her vigilant watch of their surroundings from his passenger seat. The highway curved sharply around a hill, and suddenly there was movement, a pickup truck appearing from the opposite direction. Both vehicles slammed to a stop instinctively, tires screeching on the asphalt. "Contact front!" Daniela called sharply, already reaching for her Remington. "Armed individual, driver's side!" Andy killed the engine and was out of the truck in one fluid motion, his ranger training taking over. He reached through the rear window of the cab, grabbing the AR-15 mounted behind the seats. Daniela mirrored his movement on the passenger side, her rifle trained steadily on the other vehicle. Andy keyed his radio quickly: "Sarah, Crystal, stay in the truck, get down below the windows. Now!" The man from the other truck had taken cover behind his own door, his rifle held ready but not directly aimed. He was middle-aged, wearing casual clothes and looking almost as startled as they were. "Identify yourself!" Andy shouted, his voice carrying the authority of his ranger training. "Hey, easy!" the man called back, his voice strained but not aggressive. "I don't want any trouble! My name's Mike Peterson, I'm just trying to get to my mom up north. She's alive, I got a message from her yesterday!" "Keep your hands visible!" Daniela commanded, her young voice carrying surprising authority. "Look, I'm sorry!" Mike responded. "You scared me as much as I scared you, wasn't expecting anyone on this road!" He carefully kept his rifle pointed down. "I swear I mean no harm!" Andy studied the man's body language. "Alright," he called out. "Let's both put our weapons back in our vehicles. Show of good faith. Then we can talk!" There was a moment of tense silence before Mike nodded. "Okay! On three?" "On three," Andy confirmed. "One; two; three!" Both men slowly placed their weapons back in their vehicles, movements deliberate and visible. After a moment's hesitation, Daniela followed suit, carefully placing her Remington back in the cab. Andy let out a deep sigh of relief and keyed his radio again. "Sarah, Crystal, you can come out now. Stand a few paces from the truck, hands where he can see them." He raised his voice to Mike: "We've got two more people in the second truck. They're coming out now, no weapons!" The rear doors of the second truck opened cautiously. Sarah emerged first, her designer athletic wear incongruous against the tension of the moment. Crystal followed, her beauty drawing Mike's attention momentarily before he caught himself and returned his focus to Andy. The two men walked toward each other, meeting roughly halfway between their vehicles. The late afternoon breeze carried the salt smell of the nearby bay, rustling through the wild grass growing between the highway directions. "I'm Andy Rhee," Andy offered, his posture relaxed but alert. "We're coming from Yosemite, heading to San Francisco. You?" "Gilroy," Mike replied, running a hand through his graying hair. "Been on the road since yesterday. My mother's up near Mount Shasta, finally got a message through on Beacon that she made it." He glanced at their trucks. "Any trouble on the roads?" Andy shook his head. "We've been checking Beacon for updates about blocked sections. Had to detour around a big pileup between exits 234 and 236, and there was another rough stretch near the 99-120 interchange, but otherwise it's been quiet. You?" "Seen a few other people on the move," Mike said. "Most heading either to San Jose State or the Presidio. Stopped at SJSU myself, they gave me some medical supplies, antibiotics." He patted the bag at his hip. "What's the situation like at San Jose State?" Andy asked. Mike shrugged, his expression uncertain. "Pretty loose organization, if you can call it that. There's a professor trying to coordinate things, but;" He paused, searching for words. "Nobody's really in charge. Most folks are just passing through, or locals coming out of their homes to get supplies when they need to. Everyone's still pretty shell-shocked, you know? Scared. Confused about what to do next." "I see," Andy nodded. "You need any supplies? We've got two full trucks here." "Thanks, but I'm good," Mike replied. "Stopped at a Walmart on the way up, loaded up pretty good. What's your plan?" he asked. "We're heading to the Presidio to check things out, probably look to settle there," Andy replied. He explained the logic that made San Francisco an ideal place to settle. Mike nodded thoughtfully. "I've been debating between heading there myself or maybe taking over a farm somewhere. My dad was a farmer, I grew up on a ranch, so I know the basics at least." "If you're thinking farming, the San Joaquin delta would be your best bet," Andy suggested. "Close enough to the Bay to stay connected, and the river means you won't need complex irrigation systems." He paused. "Though once people get more organized, there might be competition for that land." "Makes sense," Mike said, considering. "Hey, we should share Beacon handles, keep each other updated on how things are going." "Good idea," Andy agreed. They quickly exchanged their information. "Alright then. Good luck," Mike said with a final nod. "You too," Andy replied, turning back toward his truck. They watched Mike's truck shrink into the distance before Andy walked back to where the others waited. The late afternoon sun cast their shadows long across the asphalt as he summarized the encounter. "He's heading up to Mount Shasta, his mom survived, managed to get a message to him," Andy explained. He saw the brief flickers of pain cross their faces at the mention of family, each of them carrying their own weight of loss. Sarah's hand moved unconsciously to the delicate necklace she wore. Daniela's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, while Crystal wrapped her arms around herself, as if suddenly cold. "He stopped at San Jose State," Andy continued quickly, pushing past the moment. "Says there's some professor trying to coordinate things, but it's pretty disorganized. Mostly just people passing through, getting supplies when they need them." "God, I was so scared when he first stopped," Crystal admitted, her voice still slightly shaky. "But he seemed nice! I hope he finds his mom." She brightened slightly. "It's kind of encouraging, right? Making new friends already?" "We're getting close to Oakland now," Andy said, his tone growing more serious. "This will be the most populated area we've been through. We should pull off somewhere, check Beacon for updates." He glanced at their loaded trucks. "And we need to cover those beds with tarps, don't want to advertise how much supplies we're carrying." Daniela was already moving toward the trucks. "There's an exit about a quarter mile ahead," she said, consulting their marked-up atlas. "Looks like it leads to some kind of business park. Should be good cover, and easy access back to the highway." The Business Park. The business park was quiet, its empty parking lot offering a clear view of the approach. Sarah and Crystal worked on setting up the Starlink array while Andy and Daniela methodically secured heavy tarps over the truck beds, their practiced movements suggesting they'd done this before. "I've been thinking about where to set up initially," Andy said, pulling the tarp tight before securing another tie-down. "There's a Korean consulate building in Presidio Heights I've visited before. It would make a good temporary base." Daniela paused in her work, considering. "Security features?" "Yeah, it's built for diplomatic security," Andy confirmed, testing the tarp's tension. "Reinforced doors, security windows, probably some basic defensive architecture. It's in a quiet residential area, but walking distance from the Presidio." He moved to secure another corner. "Plus it's designed to be relatively self-contained, might have backup generators, water storage." "Got signal," Sarah called from where she knelt by the array, her designer leggings collecting dust from the pavement. Crystal leaned over her shoulder, their phones illuminating their faces as they scrolled through Beacon updates. "The building, is it big enough for all of us?" Daniela asked practically, her young voice carrying that familiar tactical edge. "Three stories, if I recall correctly, and lots of office space we can convert," Andy replied. "And importantly, it's far enough from Downtown that we'll be far from the chaos there, and we won't be right in the middle of whatever organization efforts are happening at the Presidio, but close enough to stay connected." Crystal fidgeted with the hem of her silk blouse. "About that;" she began softly. "I was wondering if; if maybe I could stay with you all?" Her blue eyes flickered between them, settling briefly on Andy before dropping to the ground. "I know I'd be another mouth to feed, and I'm not exactly survival-trained, but I could help out. I could handle the cooking, cleaning, keep watch at night;" She trailed off, her offer hanging in the air. Sarah and Daniela both turned to Andy, waiting for his response. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the parking lot as he made a show of considering the request, though his mind was already made up. "We packed about three months of food for the three of us," he said thoughtfully, watching Crystal's face fall slightly before continuing. "But getting more shouldn't be too hard at this point. There are probably plenty of places we can scavenge from once we're in the city." He adjusted the tarp's final tie-down. "As long as you're willing to help with some scavenging runs, which we should do anyway to build up our supplies, it should work out fine. I can go with you, show you the ropes." Daniela's face brightened with obvious approval, while Sarah maintained a carefully neutral expression, offering a small nod of agreement. Crystal's relief was palpable, her usual poise returning as she straightened up. "Thank you," she said softly. "I promise I'll pull my weight." Arriving at the consulate. Andy and Sarah. Day 7, Late Afternoon The late afternoon shadows stretched across the quiet streets of Presidio Heights as their little convoy approached the Korean consulate. The building stood stolid and official-looking among the surrounding residences, its windows dark but intact. As they drove through the SF neighborhoods, they'd seen scattered survivors, mostly women. Most kept their distance, watching the trucks pass with wary curiosity before returning to whatever tasks occupied them in this new world. Andy pulled up to the front of the consulate, studying the building's facade. The American and Korean flags still hung limply from their poles. The front entrance featured heavy double doors with reinforced glass flanked by simple columns and dotted with CCTV equipment, now nonfunctional. "Stay in the trucks," Andy instructed over the radio. "Daniela and I will check the entrance first." They approached the front doors cautiously, Daniela's hand resting near her holstered Glock. Andy tried the handle, locked, as expected. He knocked firmly, the sound echoing through the empty building. "I don't see any signs of forced entry," Daniela observed, examining the door frame. "Any electronic security would be disabled when the power went out. Probably a pretty heavy deadbolt though." Andy nodded. "Let's try the back. No point destroying the front entrance if we don't have to." He keyed his radio: "We're going to check the rear access." The fence around the property's perimeter was tall but manageable. Andy went first, scaling it smoothly before dropping to the other side. Daniela followed with the grace of someone who'd trained for exactly this kind of situation, her feet barely making a sound as she landed. The back door was similarly secure, but its handle was less robust than the front entrance. Andy retrieved the fire axe from his pack, testing its weight before taking a controlled swing at the handle mechanism. The sound of splintering metal seemed impossibly loud in the quiet neighborhood. Two more precise strikes, and the handle fell away entirely. A careful push revealed an empty hallway beyond. Andy did a quick sweep before returning to the door. "Clear," he called softly. "We'll open the garage from inside." He radioed. "Gimme a sec." Minutes later, Andy and Daniela manually hauled the heavy garage door upward, revealing a spacious underground parking area. Sarah and Crystal guided the trucks inside, the engines' echoes filling the concrete space before falling silent. As the door lowered behind them, sealing them into their new sanctuary, Crystal's voice carried a mix of relief and uncertainty. "Home sweet home?" After securing the trucks, Andy pulled one of the Glock 19s from their equipment and checked the magazine. "We should clear the building together," he said, tucking a couple of flashbangs into his tactical vest. "No splitting up." Daniela nodded, already holding her father's Mossberg with practiced ease. "Standard sweep pattern?" "Sure. Let's trade" he said, handing her the pistol and flashlight. "I'll take point." The basement level revealed its first surprise in a mechanical room, a commercial-grade backup generator system connected to substantial fuel storage. Daniela examined the setup with interest, her usually sober expression breaking into a rare smile. "Looks like there's about three hundred hours of runtime with the current fuel," she calculated, sweeping her flashlight across the gauge. "If we're careful about power usage, could stretch that a while." "That would be amazing." Sarah breathed, her eyes lighting up. "Yeah, let's leave it off for now though." said Andy. Adjacent to the generator room, they discovered a significant water storage system and septic setup. "Diplomatic buildings always plan for siege scenarios," Andy explained, his own relief evident in his voice. "Four, maybe five months of water," Daniela estimated. "If we're careful." "Gosh" Crystal whispered, touching one of the tanks, almost reverently. "I never thought I'd be so happy to see plumbing equipment." "Me neither" said Sarah. "I need a shower so bad." They continued their sweep, finding a heavy steel door marked 'Security' that refused to budge. "Probably need specialized tools for that one," Andy noted, making a mental note to return later. The next door revealed a surprisingly well-equipped gym, free weights, cardio machines, and resistance training equipment. Sarah's eyes lit up immediately. "Oh thank god," she breathed, running her hand along a rowing machine. "I was terrified of losing this." She gestured winsomely at her meticulously crafted curves. "Do you know how many years it took to get my body like this?" Crystal watched her uncertainly. "You're worried about that? I'm barely holding it together right now, I couldn't imagine making myself more tired and exhausted on purpose." "I'd literally rather die than lose this body," Sarah replied firmly, her hand trailing along her flat, gently muscled abs. The seriousness in her voice made it impossible to tell if she was exaggerating. Andy watched this exchange with raised eyebrows, then noticed something else. "There's a sauna in here too," he noted, pleased. "Would be a real luxury to turn on some day." The main floor revealed a layout typical of diplomatic buildings, a reception area leading to various offices, with a modest break room and a more formal dining space clearly meant for official functions. The kitchen behind it was industrial-grade, though smaller than what you'd find in a restaurant. The second floor held more offices, their doors standing open to reveal desks still covered in papers and family photos, frozen in time. To be continued. Based on a post by the hospital, for Literotica.

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Andy’s Brave New World: Part 1 Ranger Andy survives, the apocalypse in Yosemite. Based on a post by the hospital. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Day 1, Yosemite National Park The park was busy with spring visitors when the first reports came in. Tourists coughing in the visitor center, a family requesting medical assistance at Upper Pines campground. Andy helped coordinate with the park's small medical team, radioing updates to other rangers. Standard protocol for illness in the park, nothing too concerning yet. That evening, things took a turn, with the news reporting an alarming spread of similar outbreaks across California, and the world. Possibly a new avian flu, they said. Day 2 Everything accelerated. Half the ranger staff called in sick. The small park clinic was overwhelmed. Andy helped organize an evacuation point at the visitor center, trying to get sick tourists to hospitals in Fresno or Modesto. His training kicked in, calm, professional, reassuring visitors even as his colleague Declan started coughing blood next to him. The ill began dying in droves. The park superintendent ordered all non-essential personnel to evacuate. Andy stayed, helping the remaining medical staff set up an impromptu care center in the lodge. By the evening, Andy felt a fever rise and was soon sweating through his clothes and coughing up a lung. He weakly barricaded himself in his cabin and prepared to die like the others. Day 3 The next morning, Andy woke to fine himself still alive, surprised to feel slightly better than the night before. He pulled himself out of his cabin and began his duties. The radio channels went quiet one by one. No response from Fresno hospitals. The lodge had become a morgue. He spent the morning doing rounds, checking campsites, finding mostly bodies or critically ill visitors who died within hours. By evening, he was the only ranger still moving around. He did his best to care for the sick and dying. Andy wasn't entirely sure if this was all just an awful dream. Day 4, Morning The cough remained in his chest that morning, but Andy forced himself to continue his rounds. The ranger truck's tires crunched over broken glass in the parking lot as he checked North Pines Campground. Most sites were abandoned, their occupants having fled days ago. Others contained what he couldn't let himself think about yet. His fevered brain kept switching between ranger protocol and survival instinct. Check each site. Document. Radio in-- no, the radio was silent now. Just static and occasional distant screams that were becoming less frequent. That's when he saw it, an expensive ultralight tent in millennial pink and gray, surrounded by matching gear that looked straight out of an R E I catalog. Too pristine, barely used. A small solar charger lay futilely pointed at the clouded sky. "Hello?" His voice was rough from coughing. "Ranger service. Anyone alive in there?" "Define 'alive,'" came a strained but steady voice, followed by a cough. Andy approached cautiously, unsnapping his holster out of habit though he knew he wouldn't need it. Inside, a young woman sat cross-legged in the tent entrance, her expensive Lululemon sports bra and high-waisted hiking shorts soaked through with fever sweat. Despite everything, the death, the horror, his own fever, Andy couldn't help noticing how the wet fabric clung to her curves. Her figure was exactly the type that dominated outdoor Instagram, slim waist, toned stomach, curved hips, the sports bra struggling to contain what was clearly meant to be shown off just enough to stay within platform guidelines. He tried to push the thoughts away and focus, but his eyes kept betraying him. She looked up at him with clear eyes, fever-bright but alert. Mixed Asian-white features that hit that perfect social media sweet spot, even through the fever, high cheekbones, full lips, almond-shaped hazel eyes. Her carefully highlighted hair was plastered to her neck, mascara smudged but intact, like she'd been maintaining her appearance out of sheer habit until the fever hit. A few light freckles stood out against her flushed skin. "I'm guessing the 'shelter in place' order isn't working out great for everyone else either?" "I'm Ranger Rhee. Andy," he said, noting how her hands trembled slightly as she reached for her water bottle. "You're sick, but; not like the others." "Sarah Chen-Mitchell," she managed between sips. "And yeah, I noticed. Been listening to people cough and die all night while I just sat here with what feels like a really bad flu. Not exactly the wilderness experience I was going for." Her attempt at humor was undercut by the raw edge in her voice. Andy saw her Instagram-ready camp setup, the coordinated cookware still in its packaging, the expensive camera carefully wrapped in a rain cover, the rose gold water bottle. "We need to get you somewhere safer. Can you walk?" "Yeah, just;" She stood unsteadily, unconsciously adjusting her sports bra, a reflexive gesture that seemed absurd given the circumstances. "My car's blocked in. I tried to leave but;" She gestured at the chaos of abandoned vehicles hemming in her pristine Subaru, many with now-deceased occupants. "Look, I've got medicine and supplies back at my ranger unit," Andy said. "Pack whatever clothes and valuables you need. Leave the camping gear, we can always come back for it if;" he trailed off, not sure how to end that sentence. "Right," Sarah said, still shivering slightly in her wet athletic wear. "I should probably change too." "Do you need help?" Andy asked, then immediately regretted how that might sound. "I mean, with packing. You seem pretty weak." "No, I've got it," Sarah said quickly, pulling herself more upright. "Just; give me a few minutes?" Despite everything, there was still a hint of self-consciousness in her voice. Andy nodded and stepped away from the tent. "Take your time. We're not exactly on a schedule anymore." He heard the tent zip closed, followed by the sounds of her moving around inside. The rustle of fabric as she changed. Multiple bags being opened and closed, more than strictly necessary for just grabbing essentials, he thought. A few quiet muttered comments to herself about what to take. The distinct sound of what had to be a hairbrush being used. Even now, even here, some habits die hard. Or maybe it was just her way of holding onto normalcy for a few more minutes. Andy stood guard, trying not to listen too closely to her movements, scanning the eerily quiet campground. A crow called somewhere nearby. The mountain air was cool and clean, carrying no hint of the devastation it had helped deliver. "Ready," Sarah called softly. The tent zipper opened and she emerged with a large designer backpack, now dressed in a black Alo Yoga tube top that showcased her toned shoulders and pushed up her cleavage, paired with high-waisted leggings that clung to every curve. Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup, but her dark hair was neatly brushed, falling in waves around her shoulders. The fever flush in her cheeks only enhanced her natural beauty, that calculated mix of exotic and approachable that had probably earned her thousands of followers. She caught Andy's gaze traveling over her body and gave a small, knowing shrug, arching her back slightly. "I know, I know. Not exactly survival wear. But it's what I brought for my Instagram hiking content, so;" She did a little pose, definitely more displaying than mocking now, the movement emphasizing her curves. Andy found himself watching much longer than he should, and her slight smile suggested that was exactly the response she'd wanted. "We can probably find you something more practical at the gear store," he managed, forcing his eyes back to her face. "Heavy duty pants, boots, proper rain gear." "Perfect," she smiled, her voice dropping slightly despite her obvious exhaustion. "Though I did bring some actually useful stuff." She knelt by her bag, the movement making Andy struggle to keep his eyes up. "Latest gen military water filter, my dad's company makes them for the marines. Handles way more volume than those little Life Straws. Satellite uplink that'll work even if the normal networks are down. And this;" She pulled out a sleek black device. "GoPro 12 with infrared. Not even on the market yet, I was supposed to demo it next month." Clean water for a larger group. Communications. Night operations. He tried not to sound too eager. "That; could all come in really handy." As they walked to his truck, both carefully kept their eyes forward, ignoring the abandoned cars and what lay inside them. Andy carried her bag despite her token protest, noticing how she stayed close to his side. "So," Sarah said once they were in the truck, adjusting the AC vent toward her flushed face. "How long have you been a ranger here?" The question seemed deliberately normal, almost absurdly so given the circumstances. "Three years here. Before that, two years at Joshua Tree." "Oh, I was just at Joshua Tree! That Hidden Valley trail at sunset, it was so beautiful." She spoke wistfully, her enthusiasm fading as the weight of everything they had experienced in the past three days settled back. Andy gestured at her bag. "Tell me about that gear, you said there was a satellite uplink?" "Right." Sarah dug through her bag, pulling out sleek boxes with military-style lettering. She started reading, her voice growing more confident as she went. "Okay, so this is a 'Starlink Tactical Ground Array', it's got four encrypted receiver units that can talk to each other from anywhere on Earth. Says here it can maintain 4G speeds even without ground infrastructure." She looked up. "Guess Dad's company wasn't just being paranoid with all this survivalist tech." "Wait, you mean that little thing has internet access? I don't see a satellite dish anywhere." "Yeah I think so. I think the array can mimic the behavior of a dish without actually needing one." "That's huge. We really need more information about what's going on." Andy said, feeling hopeful about something for the first time in days. She nodded and moved on to the water system. "This one's cool, processes up to 25 gallons per hour, removes everything down to 0.0001 microns. Works on chemical and biological agents too. If we can get some acid and lye we can keep reusing it forever." "And the camera?" Andy asked. "Let's see; Military-grade infrared imaging, 4K resolution in complete darkness, range up to;" she squinted at the manual. "Thermal detection at 200 meters." "Could probably rig that into a decent night sight," Andy mused, then caught himself. Sarah glanced at his holstered pistol, then out at the empty park road. After a long pause, she cleared her throat and went back to the manual, her voice quieter. "It's got some kind of A I field-of-view system too;" Day 4, Evening After getting Sarah settled at his unit, Andy continued searching for survivors and checking on the dying. Near the clinic, he found Miguel Martinez slumped against a supply cabinet, still in his blood-stained uniform but maintaining his ramrod-straight Marine posture even now. The room around him showed signs of his final efforts, organized medical supplies, careful notes on symptoms, a log of those he'd tried to help. He looked up weakly from his notebook when Andy arrived. "Rhee." Miguel's voice was barely a whisper. "You made it. Figured you might. Always had the look." "Miguel," Andy started, but the older ranger cut him off with a weak wave. "Save it. Listen. Daniela's following protocol at home. She got sick two days ago. But she's stronger. Already sounding better on the radio this morning. She must be immune, like you, alaba al Señor". Immune. Were they immune? The idea hit Andy like a truck. Andy knew Daniela, had helped train her on basic ranger procedures, watched her grow up these past three years. Though only fourteen, her prepper father had subject her to a rigorous marine-style training regimen that made her an extremely competent survivalist. She'd always seemed almost comically over-prepared, showing up to basic first aid training with a full combat medical kit. If there was anyone left to laugh, they wouldn't be now. "Her isolation ends tomorrow morning," Miguel continued. "She knows what to do, but;" Another coughing fit wracked him, blood spattering his arm. "She'll need;" He grabbed Andy's wrist with surprising strength. "You take care of her. After. Promise me." "If it comes to that. I swear." Andy attempted a smile. "Although, she might be the one taking care of me in the end." Miguel chuckled softly. Andy tried to help Miguel up, but the older ranger shook his head. "Too late for me. Already tried everything here. Nothing helps. Just;" He pulled himself straighter. "Just let me finish my notes. Document everything. Might help someone." Andy nodded, throat tight. He gripped Miguel's hand one more time, and they looked each other in the eyes. He gave Miguel a solemn nod, and headed to the Martinez cabin. Through a small clear section in the sealed window, he could see Daniela's silhouette moving around inside, her survival supplies arranged with precision. Just like her father had taught her. "Daniela?" he called softly. She approached the window, and even through the plastic he could see the fever flush in her cheeks. But her voice was strong, clear. "Ranger Rhee. Status report: began showing symptoms approximately 36 hours ago. Fever peaked at 101.2 last night. Currently maintaining isolation." A pause. "Dad mentioned you were coming." "Seems you're also OK, like me. I found another survivor too." Daniela nodded, processing. "Isolation ends at 0600 tomorrow. That's when Dad's supposed to come get me, " Her voice caught. "Is; is dad;? I haven't asked, but; he sounds really weak right now." "We'll see. He's not looking great to be honest, Daniela. I'm sorry." The poor girl tried to maintain composure but Andy could see her eyes well up. She turned away briefly, then turned back. When she spoke again, her voice was wavered slightly. "I'll maintain quarantine until morning." "Are you sure you don't want to go see him? You seem OK, I don't think it would hurt." She shook her head "No. I'll talk to him on the radio. Protocol is protocol." "OK. I'll come get you at six." Andy headed back to his cabin, to Sarah, the weight of Miguel's last watch at the clinic and his daughter's words falling on his shoulders. Tomorrow morning would come too soon, and not soon enough. Day 4, Late Night The commissary had been eerily quiet, its automatic doors frozen half-open. Andy had gathered what he could, protein bars, dried fruit, bottles of water. The walk back to his cabin felt longer than usual, each shadow holding the potential for another body, another victim. He saw the Starlink array before he reached his door, a sleek black apparatus that looked more like a piece of modern art than military hardware. Sarah had positioned the nodes in a complex nested arrangement. Andy was mildly impressed, it looked precisely done. The cabin door creaked slightly as he pushed it open. "Sarah, I got some-" He stopped short. She was curled up in his bed, wrapped in her sleeping bag despite the warmth of the evening. Her face was peaceful in sleep, the fever flush finally fading from her cheeks. Her dark hair spilled across his pillow, and he noticed she'd changed into a pale pink Alo Yoga tank top that looked brand-new. The transformation from her carefully curated daytime appearance was striking. She looked younger, more vulnerable. Andy set the supplies down as quietly as he could and backed out of the cabin. She needed the rest more than she needed food right now. Outside, his phone buzzed, the first notification he'd received in days. The Starlink array hummed softly, its status light steady green. He pulled out his phone with slightly trembling hands and watched as notifications began flooding in. Email. Twitter. News alerts. The world outside the park still existed apparently, somehow. He sat heavily in one of the wooden chairs on his small porch, opened his laptop, and began downloading the prepper manuals Miguel had mentioned so many times, "Emergency Protocols for Systemic Collapse", "Catastrophic Event Recovery, Reference Encyclopedia" and "Technology Bootstrapping, How to Restart Industrial Society". The download started immediately, the normalcy of a digital download almost shocking after days of internet silence. Then he opened Twitter, and his breath caught in his throat. The feed was sparse but active. Scattered voices calling out from around the world, trying to find others. A woman in Seattle reporting that her entire family had survived. A doctor in Mumbai documenting recovery rates. A thread from the CDC, last updated two days ago, describing it as an avian flu with aerosol human-human and human-bird transmission, confirming what Miguel had alluded to, some people got deathly ill, a tiny fraction just got sick and recovered, and there seemed to be no pattern to it. Someone, a software engineer in Morocco, according to the about page, had anticipated the grid's imminent collapse and created a simplified Twitter clone called Beacon. It apparently ran on a solar-powered home server farm with redundant battery backups, designed specifically to operate via Starlink. The site was bare-bones but functional: just a global chronological feed, basic search, hashtags, geotags, and posts limited to 280 characters. One tweet from a virologist caught his eye: "Preliminary data suggests  roughly a point 8% survival rate globally. Fascinating gender disparity, female survivors outnumbering male 7 to 1. Genetic factor? Hormonal? Need more data." Andy scrolled through location tags, trying to piece together the scale of it. The posts from major cities painted a chaotic picture, hundreds of survivors in New York, Los Angeles, Shanghai, but all isolated, scattered across vast urban landscapes. No real organization yet, just desperate attempts to connect. "Anyone alive near Brooklyn Heights?" "S O S from Miracle Mile L A, have supplies, need medical." "Twenty survivors at Pudong Hospital Shanghai, seeking others." The shock was still fresh, the posts raw with grief and disbelief. Nobody was talking about rebuilding yet. They were still counting their losses. The manuals finished downloading, and Andy forced himself to close Twitter. He needed to focus on what he could control, keeping Sarah and Daniela alive, gathering supplies, and getting out of Yosemite to a more major population center. The wider world would still be there tomorrow, whatever was left of it. He looked up at Half Dome, now silvered by moonlight. The ancient granite face was unchanged, indifferent to the apocalypse that had just played out beneath it. Somewhere in the darkness, coyotes began to howl, a sound that had always made the park feel wild and untamed. Now it felt like a reminder: nature was already moving on, reclaiming what had briefly been borrowed. Andy opened the survival manual's PDF, finding the section on "Social Collapse and Communication Strategies." The manual laid out different strategies based on mortality rates, 30%, 50%, 70%, 90%, 99%. With a grimace, he scrolled to the 99% section. "In the immediate aftermath of a >99% mortality event, social structures will be broadly erased and surviving population density will be too low for the immediate formation of antagonistic groups. Unlike smaller-scale disasters where existing social structures remain partially intact, catastrophic collapse temporarily eliminates the organizational capacity for coordinated action, hostile or otherwise. Survivors in the first weeks will be focused on immediate personal survival. During this brief window, other survivors can generally be trusted to be cooperative and helpful, as the shared experience of massive loss promotes prosocial behavior." The manual continued, further down: "Warning: This cooperative phase is temporary. As basic survival needs are met, humans will inevitably begin forming new social groups, 'tribes,' and power structures to replace those lost. Competition for resources will resume once excess pre-collapse supplies have been exhausted. Early contact and alliance formation during the cooperative phase is essential for long-term survival." Upon reading this, Andy elected to make the following post on twitter: "Ranger Andy Rhee, Yosemite National Park. Three possibly immune, North Pines/Ranger housing. Food plentiful, limited medical. Starlink operational. Main roads clear, helicopter landing sites available. Will monitor channel here & @Beacon." He followed it up with a post linking the survival manuals. He then switched to Beacon, created an account, and made the same posts. A slight rustling from inside the cabin drew his attention back to their immediate situation. He quietly stepped inside, retrieving the digital thermometer from his first aid kit. Sarah stirred slightly as he approached but didn't wake when he gently pressed the thermometer to her temple. 99 point 1, much better than this morning. He checked his own temperature next: 98 point 9. Their mild cases seemed to be resolving as quickly as they'd come on. He set his phone alarm for 5:30AM, enough time to get to Daniela's cabin by six as promised. The couch wasn't particularly comfortable, but he'd slept in far worse places. As he settled in with a spare blanket, his ranger training kicked in, categorizing the night sounds filtering through the cabin walls. Crickets. An owl. The distant yip of coyotes. Normal sounds. Safe sounds. The last thing he saw before drifting off was the green status light of the Starlink array through the window, blinking steadily like a new kind of star. The group assesses their situation, plans to leave Yosemite. Day 5, Pre-Dawn The alarm's buzz jolted Andy awake, but another sensation immediately registered, the rich aroma of fresh coffee. Sarah was curled up in his reading chair, scrolling through her phone, but as soon as she heard him stir, she immediately switched it off and turned her full attention to him. She'd changed into a new Alo Yoga set, a lavender sports bra under a white cropped tank, paired with high-waisted leggings in a matching shade. Her hair was pulled back in a messy-but-somehow-perfect bun, showing off her neck and shoulders. The fever flush was completely gone, replaced by her natural warm complexion. "Morning," she said warmly, uncurling from the chair with a practiced, fluid grace. "Made coffee. The fancy pour-over kind I found in your kitchen. Hope that's okay." Her hazel eyes met his, lingering just a moment too long as she took in his rumpled ranger uniform. "Sorry about commandeering your bed. I just meant to take a quick nap." She gave him an apologetic smile. Andy accepted the steaming mug she offered, trying not to notice how the morning light played across her toned body. "No problem. I'm used to sleeping rough. Comes with the job." Sarah tucked her legs under her on the couch next to him. The expensive fabric of her leggings caught the light as she moved, and she settled slightly closer than necessary, her knee just barely brushing his thigh. "I need to head out in about thirty minutes," Andy said, checking his phone. "There's another survivor at the park. A ranger's daughter. Her quarantine period ends at six." Sarah's eyes lit up. "Wait, really? Someone else made it?" She sat straight. "Yes. Daniela. She's fourteen, Miguel's daughter, one of our senior rangers. He;" Andy paused, remembering Miguel's final words. "He's not gonna make it." He took a deep breath. "Miguel was a big prepper. He made sure Daniela would be ready for anything. Kid's probably better prepared for this than me, honestly. He was ex-Marine, trained her in everything, survival skills, firearms, emergency medicine. I've seen her take apart and reassemble a rifle blindfolded." Sarah's eyebrows rose. "Fourteen? God." Her expression softened. "Must have been intense, growing up like that. Learning survival stuff instead of just; being a kid." "Miguel was," Andy searched for the right words. "He was paranoid I guess. We used to joke about his 'disaster preparedness' lectures." He snorted gently, irony in his voice. "And her mom?" "Passed away years ago, while Daniela was a child. Aneurysm." Andy took another sip of coffee. "Miguel basically raised her alone." Sarah held her coffee mug, pulling her legs toward her and wrapping her arms around them. "Damn, she's been through a lot already, huh? I hope she's alright." She glanced down at her designer workout wear and gave a small, self-aware smile. "Well, we should probably get ready to meet our teenage survival expert. Think she'll judge my completely impractical apocalypse wardrobe?" Andy couldn't help but smile. "Probably." He paused, then added, "Have you found Beacon yet? The Twitter alternative?" "Yeah, I was just reading through it earlier," Sarah leaned forward, coffee forgotten. "There's a virologist who's been collecting data. Says survival seems almost completely random, except for this weird seven-to-one female-to-male ratio and a slight correlation with genetic relatedness,, like if your sister survived, you had maybe a tiny bit higher chance. But besides that;" She shook her head. "No pattern. Not health status, not location or exposure level, or ethnicity, not even age. Just random genetic lottery. Either your b-cells already make the right antibodies, or they don't. I'd guess there's actually some correlation with age like there is with any disease, old immune people might still die from the mild flu symptoms we had. But; well," she sighed. "I doubt enough people are surviving in the first place right now to get that kind of data." Andy raised an eyebrow. She caught his look and shrugged, waving her hand casually. "I'm a biology major. Molecular cell biology. We learned some of this stuff last year." She continued, "Anyway, other than that it was mostly random people and groups asking for help, or offering help. It seems like all our old governments, systems, whatever, they're all gone." "Yeah. It's a whole new world out there." Andy said. "Have you thought about posting anything?" "I wasn't sure if it would be safe," Sarah admitted. "Announcing our location." "Actually," Andy said, "I already made a post last night. I was able to download survival manuals last night and they had an interesting take on it, right after something this catastrophic, people are still in shock, focused on basic survival. They don't have the resources or organization yet to be really dangerous. It's actually the best time to make contact, before people start forming new power structures and competing for resources and territory." "I see," Sarah said, working through the implications. "So what did you post?" "Just the basics. That there were survivors at Yosemite, that we have Starlink, medical supplies. That the roads are clear if anyone needs to reach us. Links to the same survival manuals." He took another sip of coffee. "Figured we should make connections while people are still helping each other." Sarah's lips curved slightly into a soft grin. "So, if you'd found me a few weeks from now, you wouldn't have been so friendly?" "Hey, don't ask me," Andy raised his hands in mock defense. "The manual knows best. Apparently I'm destined to become dangerous and territorial any day now." "Guess I met you at just the right time then," she said softly, her eyes meeting his for a moment before looking away. A quiet moment passed between them, the morning sun slowly brightening the cabin. "Where are you studying?" Andy asked, then caught himself. "Or; were you studying?" Sarah's face flickered with something complicated. "Was. Am? I;" She took a breath. "Biology at UCLA. Second year." Her voice grew quiet. "I kept searching Beacon for anyone from campus, but; nothing yet." Day 5, Morning Daniela was already sitting outside on a bench by the cabin when they arrived, military-surplus backpack at her feet, a shotgun slung over her shoulder, dressed in practical outdoor wear that made Sarah look especially out of place. She stood as they approached. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight, no-nonsense braid, and she sat with straight-backed posture, almost too straight, like she was holding herself together through sheer will. "Ranger Rhee," she said crisply, standing as they approached. She let her eyes drift to Sarah, taking in the expensive athleisure wear and aggressively feminine curves with a quick, assessing glance that held equal parts teenage girl's envy and survival expert's dismissal. "Daniela, this is Sarah," Andy said. "She's another survivor, immune like us." Daniela gave a short nod, then launched into what felt like a rehearsed speech. "Status report: fever peaked at 101.2 three days ago, now normal temperature for 48 hours. No remaining symptoms." She gestured to her pack, her words coming slightly too fast. "I've assembled primary survival gear, in case we need to leave in a hurry. Secondary cache inside includes a hand-crank radio set, four topographical maps of Yosemite and surrounding regions, California road atlas with marked backup routes, water filtration system, three weeks of MRE, six hundred feet of para-cord in various thickness, four heavy-duty tarps." She took a quick breath, her rehearsed rhythm barely faltering. "We also have a weapons cache. One Remington 700 bolt-action with scope and 1000 rounds, one Mossberg 500 shotgun with 1000 shells, four Glock 19s with 1000 rounds of 9mm, two semi-automatic AR-15s with 5000 total rounds. RPG-7 with eight rockets. Two cases each of fragmentation grenades and flashbangs. Ten pounds of C4 with detonators. A dozen anti-personnel and anti-vehicle mines." Andy's eyes widened at the arsenal, and Sarah let out a quiet "wow." Daniela continued at top speed without acknowledging their reactions. "Two sets of Level IV body armor with trauma plates. Four tactical vests. Medical supplies organized by emergency type. Dad's old paper survival guides and field manuals. Solar oven. Basic vegetable seed packets. Shortwave radio. Antibiotics." She paused. "And a sewing machine. Manual one. For repairs." That last item seemed to crack her professional veneer slightly. She looked at Andy, her carefully maintained composure slipping. "Have you; have you seen my dad since;? He; he hasn't been responding." Andy's expression told her everything before he could speak. "Not since the clinic," he said softly. Daniela's chin trembled once, but she snapped back into her military bearing so quickly it was painful to watch, like a child playing soldier to keep the monsters away. Her voice was smaller but desperately steady when she spoke again. "What's our next move, sir?" Andy stroked his chin, considering his words carefully. "I've only got the broad strokes of a plan right now. We've got internet at my cabin, Sarah brought a military-grade Starlink array." He gave Daniela a quick overview of what they'd learned: the devastating global death toll, the seemingly random pattern of who lived and died. He mentioned the scattered posts they'd seen on Beacon, survivors in major cities trying to connect, the complete collapse of traditional infrastructure. "Here's what I'm thinking," he continued, in an attempted measured tone. "We can't stay in Yosemite. Winter's going to be tough up here, isolated, we could probably survive if we stay indoors and eat canned food or whatever we can hunt the whole time but what would that get us? We wouldn't be any closer to setting up a long term settlement, even with your father's preparations;" He paused, careful with his words. "We need to find more people. We need to probably get to a major population center. More people means more survivors means more knowledge, more resources, better chances of rebuilding something sustainable." Daniela nodded, her expression suggesting she'd already run similar calculations. "I'd say we take a day or two here first," Andy added. "Sweep the park a few more times for survivors. Gather whatever useful supplies we can find from the stores, visitor centers, other ranger stations." "Ok, that makes sense. Where's my dad?" Daniela said quietly. Andy didn't hesitate. "He's at the clinic. East wing, near the supply cabinets. Do you want us to come with you?" She shook her head. "I'll go by myself." She was already turning to leave. Andy watched her go, knowing that splitting up wasn't ideal but reasoning that the park was likely empty now except for them, and with her confident shotgun slung over her shoulder, she could probably take care of herself. "Meet us back at my cabin later," he called after her. "And keep an eye out for any large trucks or gas canisters while you're out. We'll be checking the valley store," he added. "See what we can salvage." Sarah spoke up. "I'm really glad to meet you, Daniela. It's; it's good to have another girl alive." She gave a small self-deprecating smile. "I'm obviously not as prepared as you, but; I'll do my best to not be a burden." Daniela merely nodded, wearing a worried, distant expression, and headed off toward the clinic, her stride purposeful but tense. Day 5, Morning The morning air was crisp as they headed toward the valley store, Half Dome looming above them in the clear sky. Sarah walked close to Andy's side, her earlier morning quietness replaced by an almost nervous energy. "She's so; composed," Sarah said, shaking her head in wonder. "I mean, she's cataloging military-grade weapons like she's reading a shopping list." She adjusted her designer backpack, suddenly self-conscious. "Did you see how she looked at me? I swear I could hear her mentally calculating how quickly I'd die in the wilderness." The path narrowed between some fallen trees and Sarah stepped ahead, her juicy curves swaying hypnotically as she walked. Andy gave in and let himself watch, taking in how her expensive leggings showcased her plump rear and hips rolling side to side with each step. Her ass was built for likes more than functionality but no less captivating for it. "You know, she's not actually hating on you," he said, forcing his attention back to their conversation. "She just processes everything as tactical information, it's how Miguel trained her. Analyzing strengths, weaknesses, capabilities." Sarah tucked a strand of highlighted hair behind her ear. "An RPG though? Like, an actual bazooka? Does he expect to fight a freaking tank?" "Maybe. I wouldn't put it past him." Andy replied with a shrug. "But explosives actually have a lot of use besides tanks you know. If you need to blow up a wall or car someone is hiding behind for example. In war, you're often running out of RPGs before you run out of bullets." Sarah paused, considering. "Where does a park ranger even get that kind of stuff anyway?" "Miguel had connections from his Marine days. Never talked about them much." "God, poor kid." Sarah's voice softened. "All that training, and she still lost him anyway." She was quiet for a moment, then added, "At least she knows what to do now. I'm totally useless here." Andy glanced at her. "Hey, you brought the Starlink. And the filtration system. That's not nothing." "Yeah, but I wasn't even planning to use them." She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. "I didn't even know how they worked until yesterday. I was just supposed to make them look good in pictures." They rounded a bend in the path, the store's entrance coming into view. Sarah slowed slightly, her voice more thoughtful. "You know when Daniela was listing all that gear, there was something about the sewing machine. Do you think it was her mom's?" Andy nodded. "It was just;" She trailed off, searching for words. "Like for a second the whole soldier act dropped, and she was just a kid who lost her parents." Andy nodded, remembering the slight tremor in Daniela's voice at that moment. They reached the store's entrance, its glass doors standing partially open. Sarah instinctively moved closer to Andy's side as they faced the quiet and empty building. The morning light streamed through the store's high windows and skylights, illuminating neat aisles of outdoor gear and camping supplies. Everything was still in its place, the pandemic had moved too quickly for panic buying or looting. The store felt frozen in time, like its staff had simply stepped out for lunch and never returned. "Boots and outdoor gear are in the back left," Andy said, gesturing. "Look for something waterproof, with good ankle support. And grab some proper hiking pants, the kind with zip-off legs and plenty of pockets. I'm going to check our food supplies in the storage room." Sarah nodded, already moving toward the clothing section. "I'll try to channel my inner Daniela. No more Instagram fashion choices." Andy headed to the back of the store, past rows of camping equipment and climbing gear. The storage room door was locked, but a few solid swings with the fire axe he'd retrieved from its wall mount made short work of the deadbolt. Inside, he swept his gaze across rows of shelves stacked with boxes and crates. His shoulders relaxed as he took inventory, hundreds of cans of chili, soup, and vegetables. Sealed packages of dried fruits and trail mix. Energy bars by the case. Enough preserved food to feed a small group for months, maybe longer if they rationed carefully. Way more than they could possibly take with them. Returning to the main area, Andy methodically selected gear from the high-end section, a rugged Carhartt jacket, some water-resistant hiking pants, and a pair of well-reviewed Merrell boots to supplement his ranger gear. He grabbed a Leatherman Wave+ multi-tool, a pair of Vortex binoculars, and several high-end headlamps and lanterns with spare batteries. Making his way to the women's section, he found Sarah studying her reflection in a full-length mirror. She'd changed into a pair of olive-green tactical pants that, despite their utilitarian design, hugged her curves perfectly where they cinched at her waist. A cropped camo compression top showed off her toned midriff while providing actual support and protection. Black Salomon hiking boots replaced her pristine Nikes, and an Arc'teryx jacket in sleek black completed the ensemble. She'd managed to find gear that was both practical and flattering, the pants especially seemed designed to enhance rather than hide her natural assets. She turned slightly, checking the fit from different angles. "What do you think?" she asked, adjusting the jacket. "The pants are actually really comfortable. And this top breathes really well." She moved through a few stretches, testing the range of motion, the gear moving naturally with her body, causing her ample bust to jiggle pleasantly. Andy tried not to stare. "Those boots are perfect," Andy said, nodding approvingly. "Salomon makes some of the best. They'll last for years if you take care of them." Sarah bent down to grab another small pile of clothes from the floor. "I grabbed some things for Daniela too." "Good idea. How do you know what size she is?" Andy asked, eyeing the stack of clothing. Sarah laughed, a glint in her eyes. "Trust me, I can tell. It's a girl thing." She folded the clothes with efficiency, tucking them into a rugged canvas duffel bag and her new backpack. "Plus, everything I picked has adjustable waists and drawstrings. She'll be able to make it work." Day 5, Evening The crackling of the campfire filled the silence between them as they sat in front of Andy's cabin, the flames casting flickering shadows across their faces. Steam rose from their bowls of rehydrated beef stew. Daniela sat cross-legged on a log, her new pants and boots looking almost too perfect, still creased from their packaging. Her dark hair was pulled back in a fresh braid, but a few strands had escaped during the day's labor, clinging to her neck. Her spoon moved mechanically from bowl to mouth, her expression distant and detached. The blisters on her hands from digging the grave were hidden beneath fingerless gloves. Sarah sat on a camp chair, somehow making even that look graceful. She'd changed into black leggings and an oversized ranger station sweatshirt she'd found, her hair pulled up in a messy bun. Her eyes kept flicking to Daniela. Each time she caught herself watching too long, she'd look away quickly, taking small, careful bites of her stew. Andy was hunched over his phone, the light illuminating his face as he scrolled through Beacon posts. The Starlink array hummed softly behind them, its status lights reflecting off the cabin windows. "More reports coming in from the Bay Area," he said finally, breaking the silence. "Sounds like they're organizing some kind of central meeting point in San Francisco. Using the Presidio as a base camp." Sarah nodded, seizing the conversation attempt. "Makes sense. I've been there before. It's really pretty." Daniela continued eating mechanically, showing no response. The fire popped loudly, sending up a shower of sparks. Daniela's hand dropped down to her holster before she realized what she was doing, then went back to her food. Her face remained carefully blank, but her knuckles whitened around her spoon. Sarah's eyes met Andy's over the fire. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, turning her attention back to her own bowl. Andy set his phone down, choosing his words carefully. "We should probably talk about where we're heading. We've got some options to consider." Sarah chimed in again. "Yeah, like you said, the Bay Area seems to be organizing faster than anywhere else," she offered. "And my parents live in Palo Alto." She let the thought hang unfinished. "L A is an option, too;" Andy said, for now trying to brush past thoughts of Sarah's lost loved ones, and by extension his own as well. "More spread out, might be easier to find supplies. And Sarah you know the area pretty well I assume?" She nodded. He continued, thoughtful. "The Central Valley has farming potential, but no real organization showing up yet. Portland and Seattle are possibilities, but that's a long trek north. If we want to go south, Vegas and Phoenix also exist." The logo of Fallout New Vegas appeared in his mind's eye. "South is out," Daniela spoke suddenly, her voice flat. "Can't farm without major irrigation infrastructure. Nobody's maintaining those systems anymore." It was the most she'd said since returning from the clinic. Andy nodded. "True. We could probably gather enough fuel to make it across the country if we wanted to risk it, but;" "That's a lot of unknown territory to cover," Sarah finished. She pulled out her phone, scrolling through Beacon posts. "Though from what I'm seeing, the East Coast isn't doing any better than we are. Maybe worse, winter is coming." "The cold and snow would be a major disadvantage," Daniela said, her voice taking on the precise tone she used when reciting her father's lessons. "Increased resource consumption, limited farming windows, higher risk of mechanical failures in vehicles and equipment." She set her empty bowl aside. "California's the logical choice. Better climate, more stable growing seasons." "Agreed," Andy said. Daniela seemed to find stability in talking about this. "So that brings us back to L A versus the Bay." "The Bay Area is the only logical choice between the two." Daniela began ticking points off on her fingers, echoing discussions that had happened many times before. "The peninsula provides natural defensive positions. Multiple deep-water harbors for future maritime operations. Significantly more unpaved space for urban agriculture compared to the L A concrete sprawl." She continued briskly. "Plus, direct river access to the Central Valley farming regions around Stockton, where there's plenty of water for farming. From L A, you'd have to cross the Transverse Ranges to get to Bakersfield- that's a major liability for supply lines." Her voice took on an edge of disdain. "And farming that far south in the Valley isn't going to be viable anymore anyway, they're almost as reliant on irrigation as Phoenix or Las Vegas." She shook her head decisively. "The L A positioning is completely unsustainable. Anyone there should be evacuating to the Bay immediately." Andy nodded slowly, impressed but not surprised by the depth of analysis. He'd seen this level of preparation in everything Miguel and Daniela did. He glanced at Sarah, eyebrows raised in silent question. Sarah gave one of her small, self-deprecating smiles. "Don't look at me for expertise. The most strategic thinking I've ever done is planning photoshoots." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But Daniela's logic makes perfect sense. I mean, it's clearly been; thoroughly thought through." "The Bay it is then," Andy said, straightening up. "We should take two days to prepare; we can stock up on food, supplies, and then pick cars. There are plenty of abandoned vehicles in the valley, we'll need time to find the right ones and load them properly. It's not a long drive, but we should be thorough." He looked between them both. "We leave in three days." To be continued. Based on a post by the hospital, for Literotica.

Sylvia Plath, Janet Malcolm and our thoughts on writing style – welcome to episode 144! In the first half of this episode, we discuss whether we prefer writing style to be ornate or simple. In the second half, we compare

Let's get into the micro of scenes and learn about the essentials you can look at when deciding which scenes stay in your book.Grab the cheatsheet here. https://katcaldwell.com/288Get on my writers' newsletter to learn more about the craft of writing, know when my workshops are and be the first to get exclusive information on my writing retreats. https://katcaldwell.com/writers-newsletterWant more information on my books, author swaps, short stories and what I'm reading? Sign up for my readers' newsletter. https://storylectory.katcaldwell.com/signup You can always ask me writing questions on instagram @author_katcaldwell

Publishing Talks started as a series of conversations with book industry professionals and others involved in media and technology, mostly talking about the future of publishing, books, and culture. It was great fun talking with people in the book industry about the evolution of publishing in the context of technology, culture, and economics. In the […] The post Publishing Talks Interviews Thad McIlroy-Future of Publishing first appeared on WritersCast.

Amy Chavez has a deep discussion with Ted Goossen about Japan, it's emerging culture, it's historically strong women and how Japanese literature and its themes, are changing. In addition to talking about Hiromi Kawakami's novel The Third Love, other mentioned in this podcast episode are feminist Chizuko Ueno, translator John Bester and authors Kanzaburo Oe, Tatsuhiko Shibusawa, Masuji Ibuse and Mieko Kawakami. Goossen is currently reading books by Ruth Ozeki, and short stories by various authors. One older book that made an impression on him was The Anatomy of Dependence by psychologist Takeo Doi, which examines the idea of dependency in relationships among the Japanese.   The Books on Asia Podcast is co-produced with Plum Rain Press. Podcast host Amy Chavez is author of The Widow, the Priest, and the Octopus Hunter: Discovering a Lost Way of Life on a Secluded Japanese Island. and Amy's Guide to Best Behavior in Japan.The Books on Asia website posts book reviews, podcast episodes and episode Show Notes. Subscribe to the BOA podcast from your favorite podcast service. Subscribe to the Books on Asia newsletter to receive news of the latest new book releases, reviews and podcast episodes.

The Time Riders: Part 16 To further the science. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. There was a knock at the door and Valentina came in, pushing a silver cart in front of herself. "Thought it might be time for refreshments," she chirped, her cheerful brown eyes not at all fazed by the scene in front of her. She looked at Becky. "I figured you might find some electrolytes handy, so I have green smoothies, strawberry-banana smoothies, coconut water, and OJ. That should fit the bill, right?" "Thank you so much, Val," Becky said, not at all bothered by being naked in front of this girl. Clearly it wasn't out of the ordinary, so she didn't care. Not to mention she'd referred to Mike and Karen as 'Master' and 'Mistress', so there was more to her employment than met the eye. Nanu was staring at Val's outfit again, making Val giggle. She left the cart and approached the tiny Egyptian girl now, smiling. "Watch this, Nanu," she said before pulling her arms into her chest and doing on spin, her short skirt flaring out and twirling around her, revealing her tiny black panties. Nanu clapped excitedly, her eyes wide with delight. "Great, now she'll want to own one of those outfits," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry for the fib I'm about to tell about you, Val." She looked at Nanu. "It's a pretty outfit, yes, but it's a slave's outfit, darling." The Egyptian girl blinked. "She is a slave?" "Can't you see the collar she's wearing?" Becky pointed out, indicating Val's black lace choker, with the glittering white stone on the front. "She; is a slave to the gods?" Nanu murmured, lapsing into thought about that before looking back at Becky. "Well, that doesn't sound so bad, does it? We should become their slaves." Karen broke down giggling, hiding her face in her husband's massive arm and kicking her feet cutely. Mike just smirked while Becky sighed and rolled her eyes. Valentina had no idea what had just been said, but based on her employers' reactions, whatever it was hadn't panned out as Becky intended. She decided to make herself scarce. "scuse me, servant stuff to do," she chimed, doing a curtsy before leaving and closing the door behind her. Nanu sat up, straddling Mike's waist and trying to figure out why the goddess was laughing. "Really?" Becky groused, giving Nanu a sour look. "I rescue you from slavery, and you decide to volunteer for it because it's these two?" "Do you blame me?" Nanu said with a shrug. "As long as I get fed and fucked, this seems like a good life with pretty clothing." "You do not need to be a slave for us to do that with you, Nanu," Karen pointed out, caressing her arm. "Well, nobody's fucked me yet," Nanu announced, trying to pout rather unsuccessfully. "What good is being a free woman if it doesn't get me cock when I need it?" "I see food and sex are her two primary drivers," Mike mused. "And possibly revenge," Becky added, watching as Nanu reached behind herself and took hold of the currently soft cock and began massaging it. "If you see her whispering into her palm, shit's about to get real. Honey, that might not be a good idea." "They said I don't need to be a slave to fuck them," Nanu replied, still stroking and now fingering herself, as if to get ready. "I want to be fucked." "Let the chips fall where they may, I guess," Becky said, sitting up and moving around the bed to join Karen. Soon, they were in a sapphic tangle, limbs wrapped around one another and kissing deeply. Nanu watched while she stroked the god's cock, slowly bringing him to life. Karen was on top of Becky now, sitting up and straddling with their legs scissored and their wet pussies kissing. She began to squirm her hips, and Becky did the same, groaning in pleasure. "Hmm, missed this too," she murmured. "As did I," Karen sighed, pulling Becky's leg up so that it was braced against her with her toes in the air. They slowly slithered together, nether lips mingling, clits brushing against one another. They were both wet enough that they could hear their lovemaking. The god was hard now, and Nanu was determined to do this right. She moved backward and pushed up as tall as she could on her knees, her cunt directly over the huge cockhead. She pressed against it and moved around, making sure she was good and wet. She felt the tip just push her lips apart slightly, and inched her way down. She bit her lower lip as the pressure increased, feeling a very slow penetration. She gasped and shuddered as the head went inside, stretching her in a way she hadn't felt before, except with a fist. There was an audible, wet and almost gristly 'pop' noise, followed by another from somewhere inside her hips structure as she sank down and sat very still. Becky and the two professors looked at her somewhat curiously. "Nanu?" Becky asked. "You okay, darling?" The tiny girl didn't respond, still staring off into space, her eyes unseeing. Finally, a single tear was trickling down her cheek. "Oh, well done, Ramrod," Karen said rather sarcastically to her husband, still looking at Nanu. "Even if you didn't break her in half, she's still going to have hip dysplasia." "I didn't make her do it," Mike pointed out. "I hope we have a wheelchair around, though." The Egyptian girl finally opened her eyes, slowly, and took several deep breaths, her palms resting on the god's muscular abdomen. She looked up at the ceiling, puckering her lips and making sucking sounds as she tried to center herself. She trembled as she pushed up on her knees, starting to move, and then shook almost violently as she sank back down. She squeaked and then whimpered, going still. Then she repeated the process, taking it slow. "Well, I'll be damned," Becky mused as she watched, still grinding her cunt against Karen's. "She actually did it and didn't kill herself. She'll be trying to sit on fire hydrants next." Nanu didn't make it more than three strokes up and down before she clapped her and over her mouth and screamed into it, her entire body shaking as she came. Once she'd recovered, she began moving up and down again, a little faster, determined to have at least one more orgasm before she died. She straightened her torso and kept moving up and down, her eyes closed and a shameless moaning escaping her lips. She lasted a little longer this time, but still ended up clamping both hands over her mouth and screeching, almost convulsing before she simply wilted, collapsing forward on to the god beneath her, eyes wide open but unseeing, chest heaving as she tried to breathe. "Determined little thing, isn't she?" Karen mused, looking on, even while she made love to Becky. How she'd missed this feeling with her favorite student. "You'd have to be, to survive what she did pretty much her whole life," the blonde replied with a sigh, undulating beneath her teacher. "She's such a sweetheart, but she surprises me sometimes with a brutal mercenary streak. And her morals are; decidedly different from ours." "Noted," Karen said before leaning down and kissing Becky heatedly, squashing their tits together. They were swallowing one another's tongues, grinding and girl-fucking their way to bliss, until Becky wailed into Karen's mouth, cumming hard. Karen followed moments later, bathing Becky's cunt in her sticky essence. They wrapped themselves up in one another, kissing deeply and just enjoying the shared post-orgasm bliss. It had been too long, and Becky would do her damndest to make sure that didn't happen again. She almost giggled through the kiss as she thought about the fact that she had access to a time machine, if she really needed to see to the issue. She and Karen rolled themselves together into Mike's side, snuggling into him while Nanu seemed quite content to simply remain motionless on top of him. Given that she was almost bolted down to his cock, she might not have had much of a choice in the matter, mind. "You okay there, Prof?" Becky asked, smirking up at him while she caressed her other idol. "Might've been a while since I've been in anyone quite this tight," Mike replied, smiling and pretending to wince, as if being clamped inside Nanu was somehow painful. "Excuse you, sir," Karen chimed, trying to sound indignant, but failing as she giggled. "Am I to understand I am not tight enough for you?" "You're the perfect amount of tightness, Gordon, and you know it," the huge blond man said, reaching over and caressing his wife's ass cheeks. Karen purred contentedly at the contact, snuggling into Becky even more. Becky sighed, because she loved watching the profs together. She'd never seen two people more desperately in love, or more perfect for one another. "So is it just you and Nanu in your little arrangement?" Karen asked, looking down at her student and gently poking her nose. "Well," Becky began before offering a weak smile. "It's complicated?" "Given what a hard time you had earlier, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised," mused the older woman, smiling kindly. "Are you hiding another girl from elsewhere in the world?" "No," Becky said, blushing. "I;” If she couldn't tell these two, who could she tell? "There might be an angle with one of my students," she confessed. "Rebecca Nightingale Fischer," Karen said, her smile becoming a smirk. "You and a student? You naughty girl. Not that Michael and I are in any place to judge, of course." "Don't I know it," Becky giggled. "Yeah, there is. Or there will be. I don't know how to explain it." "One of those moments again, clearly," Mike said, his other hand stroking down Nanu's back. She looked positively tiny on top of him, like a kitten gone to sleep. She was stirring and slowly coming back to life. "Don't try too hard, Rebecca." "Yes sir," she said rather reflexively, but she also enjoyed the little tingle she always got from obeying him. "Mark and I, and Nanu, will be a thing by the time summer rolls around." "M-ark?" Nanu mumbled tiredly, almost yawning. Had she fallen asleep? "What about M-ark, Mistress?" "She calls you Mistress, hmm?" Karen observed. "It looks like I'm not the only one with a kitten on my hands." Becky blushed. "She; insists she be allowed. I've tried to break the habit, no dice." She looked at Nanu now. "I was just explaining about waiting until the summer before we will be seeing Mark." "You get to see him all the time at school," Nanu pointed out. "But you say you can't fuck him. I hope they understand, because I sure don't." "Nonlocal measurement," Karen said, listening to the two younger women speak in Latin, although she was talking to her husband. "Low-entropy probability that falls outside the Born System." "And deterministic despite a Dirac constant and equation," Mike said before he chuckled and began sitting Nanu up straight. She shuddered and gasped deeply, seeming to have forgotten that she was speared on him. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at where her cunt was split wide apart by his massive erection. She didn't seem to be able to process anything like that fitting inside her. "Christ," Becky muttered, shaking her head. "I'm supposed to be a physics teacher, and I have no damn clue what you two are talking about." "Ultimately, determinism," Mike replied, letting Nanu try to adjust. "I remember teaching you the concept." "And I remember the lessons," Becky sighed. "Never thought they'd be applied to me personally. I keep forgetting you two are religious." "I think it's pretty much a given that you, my dear, are meant to study quantum crystallography," Karen cooed, stroking the blonde's cheek. "So of course, Michael and I will teach you everything we know, and will help you further on that path. You were, without question, our most gifted student. This is your chance." "What's everyone talking about, Mistress?" Nanu asked, shifting around her hips to make sure they weren't actually fractured. "You're talking in your stupid En-gush." "Nanu, we'll speak Latin so that you're not left out," the goddess said gently, reaching over and stroking the Egyptian girl's thigh. "We were asking Rebecca if she wanted to come and teach with us soon, instead of staying where she is." Nanu considered and then looked at Becky. "Mistress, I think you're very smart, but I'd think you were very stupid if you didn't take this offer. And take M-ark with you, maybe it'll make him less stupid." "I guess that settles it," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "I can't refute those points." "This Mark of yours sounds like a real charmer," Karen teased, finally sitting up and then clambering off Becky. She moved aside while her former student sat upright, rotating her neck and stretching her shoulders. "He must be a demon in the sack if you're willing to put up with his apparent lack of intelligence." "He's not stupid, he's just; he doesn't find applying his brain power all that agreeable, except to get himself out of trouble," Becky explained. "As for him being a demon in the sack, he's not bad, but; well, I'd been going through a dry spell when this all happened." "There is no excuse whatsoever for you to be going through a dry spell, young lady," Mike told her, sitting up and still keeping Nanu in his lap. But she squeaked when he turned her around, still nailed to him by his cock, which felt like it was battering her rib cage from below. Her eyes were wide as she just sat and listened. "You're every bit as attractive as you are intelligent, Rebecca, so if you're experiencing a dearth of sex, that's just you being difficult." "It's hard to find partners who measure up," Becky grumped. "Except for Nanu, of course." Nanu sniffed and nodded righteously, happy to be included in whatever the fuck they were all talking about. She was used to being ignored as a slave, she had no intention of being ignored now that she was a free woman. "You'll come to the housewarmings, yes?" Karen asked. "The third and the fourth weekends of this month." "You're having two housewarmings?" Becky asked. "Why two?" "One is the official housewarming, where I take over as head of the Blackwell elder line and its operations," Karen replied. "The one the following weekend is of a more fun and; well, risqué nature. The invite list for that is much more select. You and Nanu simply must come to both." Becky turned her head to look at Nanu. "Did you understand all that, my love?" Nanu thought about it. "Karen is becoming Mistress of this palace and there are two celebrations, one official, and one that is; naughty. She wants us to come to both." She leaned forward toward Becky now, her look an imploring one. "Can we please, Mistress?" "Of course we can!" Becky laughed gaily. "I wouldn't miss this for all the gold on earth!" More joyous laughter, and they all embraced one another, finding partners and beginning the lovemaking again. Another hour later, the Byron Lounge. "I'm really hoping you like this," Becky said as she poured the wine into her host's glasses. Mike and Karen were sitting on a large chesterfield together while Becky and Nanu were in a smaller loveseat across from them. The table the glasses were on was in the center. "You'll probably find it very unique." "It's potent, I can already tell," Karen remarked, watching her student pour. "The nose is quite powerful from here." "Interesting color for a white wine, too," Mike added, noting the distinct amber tint to the liquid. His wife was right, it was strong. It almost stung the olfactory senses and poured like a syrup. Even Madeira wines were lighter than this. The maderizing process must have been unusually acute. Becky handed each of her companions a glass and then sat down next to Nanu. The three women all looked at Mike, expecting him to lead the toast. He nodded and held up his glass. "Dignitas amicorum pie zeses vivas." Karen nodded and repeated the toast, but in English, the only time Nanu ever considered the language divine and lovely. "Worthy among your friends! Drink that you may live. May you live." The bouquet was sharp, certainly, and Mike guessed the alcohol content was well north of fifteen percent. The wine was clearly meant to be sweet, but the robust body was definitive. This wine must have been aged longer than Becky had been alive. Where had she gotten it from? He glanced over at his wife, who had an even more acute nose and sense of taste than he did, and she was examining her glass quietly. Karen was rolling it around inside her mouth quietly, letting it play over her refined palate. Her eyes caught his, and they knew what the other was thinking. Becky and Nanu watched quietly. It was always fascinating to Becky how these two operated. "That's an Aglianico grape, I'm sure of it, even though I have never had one quite like that," Karen mused. "It's been aged in clay," Mike agreed, nodding. "For a long time. The hangovers must be murder." They both looked at Becky, who smiled hopefully. She wanted them to like it, but also hoped they wouldn't ask more questions she couldn't answer. She was doing her best. "Rebecca, I'd like to have Jordan and Tatyana try this, may I call them in?" Mike asked. She nodded and he bipped his smartwatch, asking the former seneschal of Blackwell Manor and its current one to join them. They came in together some minutes later, while Mike and Karen were still discussing the wine. "You rang, my friend?" Jordan asked, while Tatyana nodded her head respectfully. Jordan saw the bottles on the table, noting the amber color. "Is that a Malvazia wine? Very strong, I can feel it tickling my nose from here." "With Rebecca's permission, we would like for you two to try this," Karen suggested, standing and walking over to a small cupboard from which she retrieved two more glasses. "It's quite unlike anything either Michael or I have tried, and I thought we had a very broad palate by this point." Karen poured two small glasses and brought them over to the pair. Jordan, who had been the Blackwell estate sommelier for decades, and Tatyana, its current sommelier, both examined the amber libation curiously. Jordan put the cup to his lips and sipped it. Tatyana did as well, the only reaction from her being her eyes narrowing slightly. "That is very unique, I must say," the older man said finally. "It reminds me a Sangiovese in some ways, but; more primal somehow?" "It is an Italian wine, I think," Tatyana added. "But unlike any I have tried before." "It's what I imagine a Falernian wine would be like, if the genuine article thing still existed," Karen posited. "But those methods are lost. We only know them from poetry and accounts of Roman historians, such as Galen and Pliny. This is; wondrous to try." Becky sighed slightly, relaxing. She was so worried about running into time lock that it was a relief she'd managed to let them actually taste the wine. The profs knew something was up, that she couldn't help them, and they would just have to figure out as much as they could on their own. Was she meant to have done this? Was it Fating? She banished the thought from her head, she would drive herself crazy. She was here to have fun with the two people who had made her who she was, and to share that joy with Nanu. To her delight, Nanu seemed to be acclimating well, even if she was in awe and fear of these 'gods'. Mike looked at Becky now. "This must have cost you a pretty penny, something this unique." Becky smiled. "I can manage more, if you want. As many bottles as you like. Just don't ask how or why." "Fair enough," Karen said, looking over at her husband. "And we just found our drink of choice for that toga party we discussed." Mike laughed and Becky giggled. Poor Nanu. She escapes slavery from Imperial Rome, only to end up in a time period where dressing like the patricians who enslaved her was the height of chic at a party. Rome was clearly the eternal city in more ways than one. And this one time, wining about it was a good thing. Later that afternoon. "Mistress, look at all these men," Nanu said quietly, as if the portraits and busts they were walking by could hear her. She could've sworn some of them were staring right at her, their eyes following her movements. "They are all rather frightening to me." Becky nodded as she walked hand-in-hand with Nanu down the Hall of Ancestors. "I remember the first time I saw them, my love, and they intimidated me as well. They are the ancestors of my professor, going back almost a thousand years." Nanu seemed rather surprised, and a little wary. "They're all gods?" Shit, how do I explain this without breaking her mind? Becky wondered rather wearily. "They all have the same hair like the god, maybe lighter, and the eyes," Nanu observed, still speaking quietly, so that the numerous men didn't hear her. "I can't tell if they're as big as he is." Okay, extra complication there as well. "No, my love, they are the ancestors of Karen," Becky explained, knowing this wasn't going to get easier. That revelation gave Nanu paused. She stopped and looked up at Becky now, almost frowning. "But they look like him, not her. They have the same straw hair and the eyes the color of the sea." She looked down at the ground now as she tried to parse out what her Mistress was telling her. "But her eyes are the color of his hair; maybe they are brother and sister?" Now Becky's eyes widened. "Well, if Iupiter and Iuno were brother and sister but also husband and wife, why can't these two be?" the Egyptian girl reasoned. "They gave birth to all the gods. But; where are these gods now?" She gestured broadly at the hallway and the gallery of busts and portraits. "Nanu, I; I don't know," Becky confessed, trying not to falter in explaining. "I've never met them, honestly. I met the father of Karen, that was it." She pointed to an imposing portrait of Jonathon Blackwell, Karen's father, which hung on the wall not far from them. "And where is that god now?" Nanu asked. Becky hadn't done herself any favors by mentioning she'd met other 'gods'. She tried distraction now, pointing at a large open space nearby on the wall. "Look, that is where the portrait of Karen will go, once she is officially head of her fa; of the pantheon." Well done, Fischer. Nanu looked at the empty space. "So the goddess will be the supreme ruler? What of the god? She seems to obey him, why will he not be up there?" This was getting harder and harder. Becky squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think of a remotely plausible answer. What a rotten moment for time lock to not interfere. "He is from a different family of gods, my love," she said finally, giving up. She didn't have the mental strength to overcome Nanu's fantasies. "A line of mighty ones, but that doesn't mean that she won't rule her own family. She may obey him, but she is their leader." It was true, just massively out of context. "So we are invited to the festival that sees her become ruler?" Nanu asked in wonder. "We are very important, aren't we?" It was finally a question Becky could answer honestly. She smiled and caressed the younger girl's cheek. "Yes, my love. We are very important to them. That's why they want us there." "What does the goddess' name means, Mistress?" queried Nanu. "Karen. It is so unusual to me." Another smile. Becky knew this tidbit, because she had laughed with her mentor about it so many times over the years they'd known one another. "Her names means 'Purity', my dear." Another wry face from Nanu. "But she fucks like Venus, Mistress. I'm not sure 'pure' is the best way to describe her." Becky restrained a giggle. "And the god? What does his name mean?" Becky happened to know that one as well, since the name was common enough. "His name means 'godlike', or 'like unto a god'." "Well at least that one makes sense," Nanu admitted. They continued walking, with Nanu gaping at just about everything. Mike and Karen were seeing to a small matter, and had suggested that Becky take Nanu for a stroll around the estate. Becky had to think about what might catch her attention, and what she'd even be able to understand. She'd already shown Nanu the service elevator, and the young woman was stunned how the tiny room could bring her to different places at the simple push of a button. Food always interested Nanu, but if they were staying for dinner, she could keep the little glutton out of the chef's way for a few hours. Glenda showed them the garage, with all the exotic and rare cars. Nanu seemed especially taken with the huge jeep and the bright red Countach. They found Ari in what was apparently an arcade (rich people, go figure!), and they watched while he played Street Fighter IV. Nanu looked on in fascination as Ari controlled the little man inside the box, making him beat up another little person. Before she got overstimulated and bloodthirsty (Becky was beginning to suspect that violence and sexual arousal were quite mated in Nanu's psyche), they went to find something else to look at. Soon, they found themselves in the compassion greenhouse. The rather pungent odor hit them the moment they opened the door. Nanu wrinkled her nose and pinched it shut with her fingers. "They grow asterion, Mistress?" she asked, her voice sounding funny before she was keeping her nose pinched shut. "I remember it from the house of my Flavian masters. We made ropes and rugs with it. They would bake the seeds into cakes. The cakes made me feel tired." Becky nodded. "It's a recreational substance in my time. They grow all sorts of things here, some of which will be very new to you." "I will get tired if we stay in here," Nanu said. "Just from the smell of the plants." Tempting, Becky thought, but ultimately decided against it. There was still lots to do, after all. They toured some of the other greenhouses before heading back into the Manor. In the foyer, they ran into two young women. Becky stepped up to greet them. "Hi, I'm Becky, this is Nanu," she said, shaking their hands. The rather buxom brunette seemed very pleasant, although Becky could already tell she was a bit of a space cadet. The other one, a shorter girl with honey-blonde hair in a pixie cut, was lean and athletic, her hazel eyes observing everything. "Hi, I'm Jeanie," the brunette said cheerfully before looking at Nanu. "Oh, wow, look how pretty you are! I'll bet you're a big hit with all the boys, aren't you?" She bent her knees slightly, resting her hands on them so she was closer to Nanu's eye level. "And what grade are you in?" Becky restrained a giggle-snort, declining to translate for Nanu. The Egyptian girl looked up at her, a rather confused expression on her face. "What's the stupid girl asking me?" she wondered. "She just said you're very pretty and all the boys must love you," Becky selectively answered. "Well, she's right about that, at least, so maybe she's not completely stupid," Nanu sniffed. "Sorry, Jeanie," Becky said, turning her attention back to her new associate. "Nanu doesn't speak English, we speak Latin to one another. So unless you speak it too, I'll have to translate for you." "Oh, yeah, no," Jeanie replied, shaking her head. "Fre'n' me barely speak English, so I guess you're on duty for us with the Latin stuff." "Hey now," the pixie-haired girl said, giving Jeanie a look before also stepping forward. She was wearing some chinos and a tank top, her jacket thrown over her shoulder. She shook Becky's hand. "Hello, I am Freja. We have been hearing about you both, I am honored." She smiled at Nanu now. "I am happy to meet you, Nanu." Becky translated, but Nanu didn't seem to hear what she was saying, since she was focused on Freja. The Danish girl was not much taller than her, but also had tiny tits, barely worth mentioning. She was smirking as Freja put out her hand, and instead of shaking it, she simply put her hands on her hips and pushed her chest forward slightly, thrusting out her tits. Freja faltered somewhat at the sight of them on display like that. "Anyhows," Freja said, turning her attention back to Becky, even if her wife was still staring at Nanu's chest. For a tiny girl, she had a huge rack. "Jeanette is my wife, we are pleased to be making your acquaintances. You ams staying for dinner?" Becky nodded, ignoring the fact that Nanu was turning slowly left and right, showing off her bust in profile. "The profs convinced me to come work as a Physics teacher at the uni. Do you two go there?" "Yes," Freja confirmed. "Jeanette is in Health and Nutrition Sciences, and I ams at the Skule." "Ooh, an engineer," Becky breathed, smiling. "Love it! You'll probs end up building a lot of the equipment I need in order to; Nanu, stop that, you brat!" She nudged the smaller woman with her hip since Nanu was cupping her tits and squishing them together. Either one of her tits was much bigger than both of Freja's, and clearly the girl was self-conscious about it. This was no doubt some leftover competition and survival trait in Nanu, finding advantage in whatever form it came. Given how she'd been mocked the other night at the bar, maybe she shouldn't be surprised. Still, she couldn't let her behave that way. "Jeanie, honey," she said, smiling at the other half of the married couple. "Would you mind taking Nanu and finding her a bathroom? I want to pick your wife's brain about something with engineering." "Oh, a hundred p," the brunette said, nodding and taking Nanu by the hand. "How'd you say 'Let's go pee' in Latin?" Becky couldn't believe she was saying this, but obliged. "Eamus mingere." "C'mon, Nanu," Jeanie said to the confused Egyptian girl, leading her off. "Eat a moose lingerie." "Even for her, that was nowhere near the close," Freja sighed as she walked along with Becky now. "I just wanted to get Nanu away from you, she gets competitive," Becky said. "Sorry about that. She was raised as a slave, so she has a survival mode about not being the smallest and weakest." "And my tits, they are smallest and weakest," the Danish girl muttered. "Oh, I think they suit you just fine," Becky said helpfully, taking Freja's hand and giving it a squeeze. "'sides, I kinda want to get a look at the rest of you without Nanu around, you look pretty muscular." Freja smiled. "I works out a lot, I guess. I played fodbold, your soccer, and also field hockey. I do some martial arts as well." "Ooh, tell me!" Becky said, pulling Freja into an unused lounge. "Tell me what you take and I'll tell you what I practice." Freja put down her coat and stood there, letting Becky see her body, although she still had her clothes on. Her shoulder muscles were obvious, but she lifted her tank top enough to show up her segmented and rock-hard abs. "I ams having a black belt in Grace Jujutsu, as well as Kenpo, and I also know Fujian White Crane. What do you practice?" "Krav Maga," Becky replied, lifting her own shirt enough to show off her smooth, firm midsection to her new friend. "Started quite a few years ago, mostly to blow off any sexual frustration, and to deal with guys who get too handsy, you know?" Freja smiled and nodded. "I believe you, for you are very well sexy-built. But we should spar, I would love to try myself against your Krav Maga." "I would love that too, Freja," Becky purred, her smile becoming sensual. "Win or lose, gonna love it. But haven't you tried sparring with the big man before?" "Once," Freja said, shaking her head. "He literally squashed me like a bug. I lasted three seconds and he just squashed me." Becky giggled. "He was the one who began teaching me Krav Maga, and every time I spar with him, I get squashed too. I think of them as sex injuries, you know?" Freja laughed. "Jeanette and I, we fuck the profs occasionally, so yes, I understand. We are lovers to them, and to their son and his wife, Karen's younger sister, Alexandra." "They were telling me about that whole arrangement, but I'm gonna need time to sort it out," Becky admitted. "It sounds like it was a helluva year." "I met my wife and married her because of Alex and Alexandra," Freja said, shucking her tank top now and just leaving her tits exposed. She didn't mind. "And what I can guarantee you, Rebecca, is that when you see Alex and Alexandra together, it will make you very happy." "Honey, I don't doubt that one bit," Becky said, pulling her own shirt off and then unhooking her bra. In a bathroom down the way. "See, this is pretty nice, right?" Jeanie said, sitting on the ornate but comfy chair, her chin on her hand while she looked at Nanu, who was simply sitting on the toilet with her pants around her ankles. She'd already managed to go pee, but apparently this stupid girl hadn't noticed and was still talking to her. "Li'l bit of girl bonding time, right?" "You really are dumb, aren't you?" Nanu said, trying to keep the snide tone out of her voice, in case the stupid girl tattled on her to Mistress. "I'm done going piss, now what?" "Oh, I've got an idea," Jeanie said rather eagerly. She pulled her shirt over her head, and then quickly undid her bra, letting her tits fall out. Nanu's eyes widened for a moment as she stared. They weren't the largest she'd ever seen, the goddess' were certainly bigger, and her Mistress' probably were too. But this dumb girl wore them well, and she clearly didn't mind showing them off at a moment's notice. "Now show me yours," Jeanie said, pointing at Nanu's shirt. The Egyptian girl shrugged and peeled off her shirt, and the stupid bra thing underneath, leaving her as exposed as her companion. Jeanie nodded approvingly as she assessed Nanu's tits. "Nice, we can have a lot of fun with those," Jeanie said, getting up and coming to kneel in front of Nanu now. She put her hands on Nanu's tits and fondled them, feeling around and giving them a good squeeze. "Yeah, these're primo, babe. Well done." Nanu didn't have a damn clue what the dunce was saying, but her tone indicated she liked Nanu's tits, and as a result, Nanu was getting groped. She didn't object at all. "Mind if I?" Jeanie asked, not waiting for an answer before leaning in and starting to swirl her tongue around one of her new friend's nipples. Nanu shivered and gasped, decidedly not objecting to this treatment. She hadn't been fucked in over an hour, so this was a good start. She reached forward and groped the brunette's big tits, liking how heavy they felt in her hand. She could feel herself getting wet, and wanted to do things with this girl now. "Hmm, new and better idea;” Jeanie said, pulling back and standing up long enough to go over to a closet and pulling out a large, plush towel. She remembered they were in there after her unfortunate encounter a few weeks earlier with the neighbor kid, who turned out to be necrotic, or narcosomic, or something. She laid the towel out on the marble floor, and then smiled at Nanu, patting the towel and indicating she should lie down. Nanu got off the toilet and laid down on her back as instructed, looking up at the dumb girl. Jeanie smiled and crawled partially over the smaller girl, her tits now hovering over Nanu's face, the nipples touching her nose. She eased down some more until Nanu could get one of the nipples in her mouth easily. Nanu began licking, tonguing and sucking readily. "Hmm, Jeanie for the win with the good ideas," the larger girl sighed, now craning down and beginning to suck and lick on Nanu's ample tits, the two of them losing themselves in the moment. Neither would feel the need to come up for air any time soon. Back in the other room. Becky grunted and strained, lying on her back and hands flexing against the floor. She was pushing with her hamstrings and her ass muscles, sweat streaming now from her nearly naked form. All she was wearing were her thong panties, and it still felt like she had too much on. Freja was lying opposite her, also just in her thong. They both had one leg in the air, locked against each near the ankle, and they were pushing hard, trying to overpower one another. It had been some time since Becky had engaged in a good bout of (the unfortunately named) Indian leg wrestling. Becky gasped and groaned, wondering if Freja was in as much discomfort as she was. She had the height advantage, a longer leg, so presumably more leverage, but Freja was very strong, her body a little bundle of muscle, which Becky had not appreciated until they'd decided on this little contest and they both stripped down. Whatever she lacked in the tits department, Freja made up for in the powerful ass department. Becky wouldn't be surprised if the little Danish girl could crack walnuts open between those cheeks. She heard Freja moan, taking heart that her opponent was working as hard as she was, although they remained in a deadlock at this point. If she couldn't overpower Freja, she'd simply have to hope to outlast her, until Freja's muscles were jelly and she gave up. They hadn't really decided on what the prize was for whoever won, but she held no doubt they'd both enjoy it. "Uh, fuck;” Freja rasped, her leg trembling every bit as much as Becky's. "You ams strong, like Alexandra or Andrea." "I'll take that; as a compliment;” Becky panted, her warm skin slick against the floor. She hoped she didn't stain the marble, she'd have a hard time explaining that to the profs. "You're really damn strong too, babe;” After almost two more minutes of straining and groaning, the strength of both women gave out at the exact same moment. Their legs bent and collapsed down, both of them breathing heavily, supremely tired from the contest. They slowly rolled onto their sides, almost going fetal as they tried to catch their breath. "That was; very difficult;” Freja managed to say. "I'm not gonna like walking on that leg for a week," Becky replied, thinking about the amount of grapefruit juice she was going to be drinking to deal with the lactic acid buildup in her leg and ass muscles. She hoped she wouldn't have to chase Nanu anywhere. "I guess it was a tie?" "Next time, we will make it a sexfight," Freja breathed, thinking she'd need a forklift to get her upright. "That will be easier on my body." "You have a deal, Fre;” Becky said wearily, hoping the profs didn't find her like this. Thankfully, the muscle pains subsided relatively quickly and easily, even if she knew she was going to be sore tomorrow. She found Nanu with Jeanie, and they both seemed much more refreshed and cheerful than her and Freja. She had a sneaking suspicion as to why. Nanu hadn't been in Freja's presence more than three seconds before she thrust her chest forward again, making sure the Danish girl knew who the mayor of Titty-Town was, even if she wasn't quite so blatant about it this time. They'd all gone to the kitchen so that Becky and Freja could rehydrate themselves a little. Freja was just drinking bicarbonate in water, whereas Theresa supplied Becky with her grapefruit juice. Nanu and Jeanie were drinking milk, and the two girls giggled at one another while they downed their glasses. Jeanie and Freja excused themselves, needing to get back to their condo. Jeanie hugged Nanu, making sure they squished their tits together, then did the same with Becky, although perhaps not quite as familiarly. Freja hugged Becky and then took a chance on hugging Nanu to say goodbye. Nanu accepted the hug, but made sure she pressed her tits right into Freja's reminding her who was in charge. Freja sighed, and they made their exit. "Miss Fischer, Mr. and Mrs. DeBourne will meet you in the Spencer Study now," Tatyana said, entering the room and nodding. "They apologize for the delay, things are just rather busy right now." "Well, what with finals coming, and the big ol' housewarmings, I'm not surprised," Becky said cheerfully, taking Nanu's hand and allowing Tatyana to take them to the aforementioned Spencer Study. Inside, Mike and Karen were sitting on a long, ornate chesterfield. Becky strolled in and sat down on a loveseat just across from them, joined by Nanu. Once again, the Egyptian girl seemed to be keeping her eyes averted. "I hope you don't mind, Rebecca, I thought we might continue having more of your delightful wine," Karen said, pouring some glasses. "I'm glad you like it, and especially glad that you aren't asking questions," Becky answered, relieved that her mentors seemed to genuinely understand her predicament, even if they couldn't understand her predicament. "I promise, I'll scare up some more for you." They were happily discussing Becky's future employment at the university, with Mike and Karen almost teasing her with tempting tidbits about all the latest research into quantum crystallography. Nanu listened quietly, understanding nothing, but knowing that whatever was being discussed was important. It was about making her Mistress happy, and nothing was more important to her than that. Well, getting fucked was as important, but clearly she could have both, so why quibble? Soon enough, they were joined by another person, whom Becky and Nanu turned to meet. A tall, young, and incredibly handsome blond man strolled in casually, wearing an infectious grin that Becky would recognize anywhere, even if she hadn't met him some years ago. He was so very obviously a DeBourne. Nanu's eyes went wide again, and she trembled in fear. "There you are, child-mine," Karen said as Alex walked into the study. "You remember Miss Fischer, yes?" "Of course," he said, smiling genially as he walked over to where the guest was sitting with another, smaller and exotic-looking girl. She stood up and he shook her hand, which was firm, friendly, and warm. A definite turn-on. "It's good to see you again, Ms. Fischer." "Oh, God, call me Becky, please," she said, trying to not blatantly ogle her professors' son. He was so much like Mike, only distilled into a more human-sized form, with enchanting electric blue eyes that radiated humor. But there was also a cool aloofness beneath, if he cared to let it be seen, and that was something he got from his regal mother. "You've grown up, Alex, and you were a lady-killer when you were just thirteen, I recall." "Well, everyone kept sayin' you were too old for me, so I had a wait a few years," he quipped, making her laugh. "Who's your friend, Becks?" Becky shook her head, since his new name for her reminded her of Mark. Still, it gave her a tingle when Alex said it, so she didn't exactly mind. He was more than free to keep calling her that. "Alex, this is Nanu. She's staying with me for the foreseeable future." Alex was going to shake Nanu's hand, but instead she slipped down to her knees, staring up at him in reverent awe before dropping her head to look at the floor. She began speaking quietly, her voice little more than a mumble. Alex raised an eyebrow before glancing over at his mother and father, who were still sitting on the large chesterfield. "Is she speaking Coptic? That's Coptic, isn't it? I don't speak that one yet." "Maybe if you were an elder of the church and showed a little more liturgical piety," Karen sniffed, holding her wine glass as she watched and assessed her son and his reactions. "Nanu is from very small-town Egypt, but she speaks Imperial Latin." Becky watched on, intrigued as he looked down at her again. "Please get up;” he instructed in the language of Imperial Rome. Nanu stood, but kept her eyes averted, even while he was addressing her. He smiled at her. "Nanu, I'm Alex. My full name is Alexander." She dared to look up at him again. He was a head, shoulders, and half a chest taller than her. She barely cleared his dad's abdomen. But she was certainly stacked for such a small girl. She had the build of a dancer, except with big tits. "The conqueror is named after you," she said in a hushed tone. "Alexander;” Alex looked back at his parents and Becky. "Does she think I'm a god? She's clearly not Muslim or Syriac Christian." "We haven't quite figured out what she makes of us," Mike replied, his deep voice from behind her making Nanu almost shiver and squeeze her eyes shut. This had been quite the day for her, and she'd met three gods now. How many people could say that? "Well, better you guys spend time thinkin' about it than me," Alex concluded, kneeling down so that he was eye-level with Nanu, taking her hands and smiling. She trembled at the touch. "Welcome to my home, Nanu;” he said cheerfully. She looked like she might faint. Her heart was thundering in her chest again, and she felt dizzy. "I hear you're due to get married, Alex," Becky mentioned, taking the pressure off Nanu before she just expired right there on the Persian rug. "Your aunt?" "Yep," Alex said, rising while gesturing for Becky and Nanu to sit again, which they did, Nanu somewhat unsteadily. Becky gave her some water while Alex eased himself onto the chesterfield next to Becky. Half a second later, Valentina brought in more drinks. Becky smirked at the steaming blue beverage waiting for Alex. Apparently it was some nerdy thing called a 'Romulan Ale'. "Mom's sister that I'm named after. "I take it you've heard the whole crazy story?" "Crazy stories seem to be the theme of this past year," Becky agreed. "Damned if I can get into mine, though. I am looking forward to meeting her as well, though. Your mom and dad have mentioned her over the years, the fact that she was missing from your lives. She and your grandmother were gone by the time I knew them." "Speaking of my baby sister, would you happen to know her whereabouts?" Karen asked, looking at her son. "She went with Aunt Jen to the pub while I was in class," he replied, nodding to Val in approval as he tried his drink. "Aunt Jen had a bunch a followers, so she took them all for a drink." "Meaning it'll somehow magically happen on my tab," Karen muttered while Mike patted her shoulder. "When was that?" "Alexa only had a half day, so they're probably almost home by now," he replied. "Aunt Jen really likes Theresa's coq au vin." He looked at Becky and Nanu now. "You two staying for dinner? Theresa makes killer food." "Well, your chef's bologna hasn't had any disastrous effects on Nanu's digestive tract, so I assume fresh poultry ought to be fine," Becky mused. "Nitrates and preservatives are the enemy, eh?" the young man laughed, once again reminding Becky of his father and giving her a tingle. They finished their drinks and Mike and Karen agreed to take them on a small tour. Becky was rather interested in the energy-saving measures, like the solar panels and the thermochromic windows. They were all touring the temperate produce greenhouse (called the 'Orangerie') some while later when two people joined them. "We're back, and we're not even hammered," the tall, gorgeous blonde chimed musically, the air of the room lightening with her presence. Even the resident butterflies of the Orangerie seemed to dance about when she was near them. She walked right up to Becky and hugged her. "You must be Becky! I've heard a lot about you." "I've heard a lot about you too, but I never would've believed anyone could be as stacked as your older sister," Becky replied, happily returning the squishy hug. "Let me introduce Nanu. Unless you speak Coptic, you'll need to speak Latin to her." "Hi, Nanu!" Alex almost sang as she knelt and hugged the shorter girl. Nanu's eyes looked like they might just spring out of her head before she swooned, not even having a chance to get on her knees and avert her eyes. "I'm Alexa!" "A; leks...a;” the Egyptian girl murmured as the tall, blonde goddess finally released her. She didn't go to her knees, she simply gazed at Alexa in quiet awe. This had been quite a day for her, even by her standards recently. "And I'm Jenny, lovey," the countess said, walking over and giving Becky a hug. "Chuffed to have you around. Have the lord and lady of the manor made their proposal to you yet?" "They have, and I've accepted, countess," Becky replied, enjoying yet another squishy, sexy hug. She had no doubt she'd end up fucking these two women eventually, if not Alex. She'd never had sex with a countess before, just a French noblewoman that she was reasonably certain was her own ancestor. "I could use the pay upgrade, certainly. Gotta pay for the classes to keep this bod toned somehow." "Delighted to hear it," Jenny said cheerfully, the two women still holding one another by the waist as they smiled at each other. Mike and Karen looked on, trying not to smirk. "And you're quite lovely, my dear. Certainly it won't hurt to' "Oh my gosh;” Alexa breathed, looking at the floor as an epiphany shivered through her. She looked up at Becky and Jenny. "We've gotta do that." "Do what, darling?" Jenny asked, looking at her but still holding Becky, their hips touching. "Well, look at us," Alexa said, coming over and inserting herself into the small hug, which was now a three-way. "Three tall, gorgeous blondes; we need to form a clique, or a union or something." "I've never belonged to a union," Jenny mused. "I've never not belonged to a union," Becky added. "Don't think I've been in a clique, though." "Yeah, but where's this ever happen?" Alexa said, pointing at each of them in turn. "Three natural blonde goddesses all together, none of us made of plastic or silicone; we're the world's most awesome and exclusive clique." "A Trinity," Alex added rather unhelpfully. "Yes!" Alexa said loudly, turning and pointing at Alex in excitement while Karen favored her son with a sour look for encouraging this. "The Trinity! That's it exactly!" She took Becky and Jenny by the hands and began pulling them out of the Orangerie, confusing the butterflies. "C'mon! We've gotta go take pics to celebrate our formation;” "Take care of Nanu for me," Becky called back, getting pulled along in Alexa's wake, as was the countess. The girl was frighteningly strong when she was exited; Becky would be amazed if even Andrea was stronger than Alexa. "Feed her or something', that'll keep her occupied." Nanu watched her Mistress disappear with the golden-haired goddess with the giant tits, along with the other woman. Seconds later, the three gods she was left with all turned to look down at her. She stared back at them awkwardly for a moment before opening her mouth and pointing at her gullet, then licking her lips and rubbing her belly. She looks like Nibbles the Mouse from those old Tom and Jerry cartoons when she does that," Alex observed. "Well, let's go see if Theresa can scare up some more bologna for her," the golden-eyed goddess named Karen mused, holding out her hand for the Nanu to take. "Ba-lo;” Nanu said eagerly as she followed Karen out of the Orangerie. "Ba-lo;” Soon enough she'd be eating again, and hopefully someone would fuck her. She hadn't anticipated anything like this happening to her, and she owed it all to her Mistress and the god-machine. It was a good day to be Nanu Tehemet. A study on the third floor. "Okay, so," Alexa began, herding the two women into the room and then closing the door for privacy. "This is gonna be awesome, the world's most elite clique." "It would be nice to belong to something Kat cannot dominate," Jenny mused, nodding. "What does our clique do?" "Just exist to show off how wonderful it is to be a blonde goddess," Alexa reasoned, rubbing her hands together and then assessing them both for a moment. "I mean, we're gotta spread the truth, right?" "Good enough for me," Becky declared readily, watching Alexa go over to a closet and pull out an expensive-looking camera and tripod. "Lotsa pics in various states of dress and undress?" &l

John Charles in conversation with Allison Brennan & Shane Gericke

Award winning Mexican poet and novelist Fausto Bonilla talks about the influences in his life that help him explore gender identity, human rights, and activism. Esta entrevista en espanol explora conceptos de genero en una manera profunda y interesante.

The Time Riders: Part 15 Modern Servitude Compared To Ancient. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Mooredale Secondary. Becky was pinching her eyes as she listened to one of her students try to explain how light was both a wave and a particle. He was saying 'umm...' so often that she began to think she was listening to the Prime Minister. Well, that wasn't fair, the PM was a Gen X'er, it was kind of their thing and all of them did it, with a few notable exceptions. "Thank you, Cory, please sit down before you hurt yourself," she sighed, sitting up straight while the students all snickered at Cory. He sat, blushing. Becky put her glasses back on. She didn't need them, but she thought it helped with the image she meant to convey. "People, I gave you this assignment over two weeks ago, and you need to be able to articulate this on your final exam. Does anyone know how to answer this question?" Becky groaned inwardly when Gina Felton put her hand up. She gestured resignedly for the student to stand. "Light acts or can be measured as a particle or a wave depending on when and how you try to observe it," the smarmy student began. Becky, along with most of the students, just shut their eyes. The bell didn't ring soon enough for Becky's liking, but she needed to get these twerps out of here. "Don't forget, assignments on radiation due tomorrow!" she called after them while they all hurried out of the classroom. She wished she actually kept a bottle of whiskey in her desk drawer sometimes. Mark had avoided looking at her as he left, as if trying to dodge a velociraptor. Thank God she couldn't get out of eventually giving him a passing grade, because he definitely didn't deserve anything more than a Z-minus. "Another day with the peerless minds of the future?" she heard Kay drawl from the door. "Don't worry, babe, moron students have always been a thing. Do you know about a TV show called 'Welcome Back, Kotter'?" "Yeah, I used to watch reruns of it with my dad was I was little," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "These kids aren't funny enough to be Sweathogs, though." "Maybe, but you get through to the ones that count," the older woman said, strolling in and pulling a chair around to sit in backward, straddling the seat and resting her arms on the back. "They can't all be thick as shit, can they?" "Most of them are in your classes too, so you have the same info I do," muttered the blonde, removing her glasses and rubbing her temples. "They really took it out of me today, I can't wait to get back home so that Nanu can f' She pursed her mouth shut and stopped talking. She looked at Kay, who was smiling slyly. "I knew it," the teacher breathed, wagging a finger. "You do have something going on with Nanu, you're bi, Fischer." "Fine," Becky said, rolling her eyes. "It's preferable to having everyone thinking that I'm boffing Simmons in any event." "None of the gals would blame you," Kay said coyly, smirking. "Besides, if you're looking after that Nanu girl for the rest of her life, looking after you is the least she can do." "Gross, Kay," Becky said, frowning. "She didn't trade in being a slave to become a prostitute. I want her to thrive." "Just keep her from singing," laughed her co-worker. "Ya' gonna bring her out again to our next bitching fest?" "She'll want to go, as long as there's food and Zeppli," Becky said, standing now. She needed to get out of here. "We have a play date this Friday, actually, with my profs from university." "Oh, wow, you mean the Viking god and the zillionaire heiress you told us about?" Kay queried. "Lucky bitch. Can you take pics?" "Probably not the sort of visit one takes pics of, or at least doesn't share," Becky pointed out, gathering up her things from the desk. "It's going to blow Nanu away, I'm pretty sure." "Ya' wouldn't need to be Nanu the slave to be blown away, trust me," Kay pointed out. "In any event, don't forget the audit tomorrow. The suits are coming in to make sure we're teaching the right way and being inclusive about grades." "I am so fucked;” Becky grumbled, stuffing her cellphone in her purse. Home. "So what new and exciting things did you do today?" Becky asked as she sat Nanu down for dinner. They were trying meatloaf in gravy tonight, along with mashed potatoes and steamed carrots. Nanu was almost drooling as she looked at the food. "I tried some of your toys out," Nanu said, waiting while Becky put butter on the carrots. "I got scared and quit after trying to use one of them." "Let me guess, the egg?" Becky mused, smirking. Nanu nodded. "I thought that one might freak you out. Don't worry, I'll show you how to use all of them safely, and then you'll love them. What else did you get up to?" "I followed your instructions about using the lapp-topp," Nanu continued, poking the mashed potatoes with her fork. It smelled good, but looked like lumpy white shit. How strange. But Mistress had them on her plate too, so Nanu was clearly missing something. "I looked at pictures of Kana-da, and of Rome, and of my home;” "Rome probably doesn't look anything like you remember it," Becky said, sitting down finally and pouring wine for each of them. It was actually Falernian wine she'd brought back with Mark from their initial visit to Imperial Rome, where they'd first met Nanu. She intended to bring a bottle or two along for the playdate on Friday. Nanu nodded. "It is all ruins. The mighty Romans have fallen. They were not as strong as they thought. Who destroyed them, Mistress?" Becky shrugged as she began to eat. She had made sure Nanu could use her cutlery properly, and Nanu watched her for cues about how to proceed. "It was a slow decline, my love, over a few hundred years. But there were nomadic tribes called Huns who began the fall, and then the people of Germania finished it, the tribes you call Goths." Nanu made a face. "The tall, smelly straw-heads? They made Rome fall? Where are they today?" Becky didn't know quite how to answer that question. Did she talk about Germany and the Third Reich? Would that make sense to Nanu? Or the fact that they were the industrial engine of Europe? She almost laughed at the thought of trying to explain 'goth' subculture to Nanu. "What is this called, Mistress?" Nanu asked, masticating on a mouthful of food. She tapped with the fork at the steaming brown mass on her plate. "It's very good, if hot." "Meatloaf," Becky replied. "It's the ground-up meat of a cow and pig, held together with oats and egg, that baked in my oven. It's like a meat cake covered in gravy." "Gray-vee;” Nanu said, looking at the sauce curiously. It occurred to Becky that Nanu had no analogue for gravy in her own era, and Becky had no damn idea when gravy had been invented. She'd just ask two people she was certain would know when she saw them on Friday. She swore those two knew everything. "I like everyone we have met so far, Mistress," Nanu said, resuming eating. "Even Steve, after he let me try his fire chicken. That hurt so bad overnight, Mistress." "I know, baby, and he won't do it again," Becky assured her. "The next time you eat hot wings, it'll be because you like them and want to. He's probably just glad to know he's not on your grudge list." Nanu nodded. "I had an invideo list when I lived in Rome." "That doesn't surprise me," Becky chuckled. "You wrote down the names of people who pissed you off so that you take revenge one day?" "Well, no," Nanu admitted, blushing a little. "I was a slave, I didn't have a stylus or any parchment or things to write on. When I was mad at someone, or they hurt me and I was crying, I'd lie in my straw and I'd close my eyes and whisper their name into my palm to help me remember it." "Did that work?" "No, I usually forgot," the Egyptian girl grumbled. "My memory is shit." "I'm sorry," Becky said, snickering and trying to control herself. "I promise you, my love, I'm not laughing at you. You just have a funny way of saying things." Nanu sniffed indignantly and continued eating her food. At least food understood her and didn't mock her. Except for the burning chicken. She'd be whispering into her palm about it that night, for sure. Friday morning, finally. "Should I be nervous, Mistress?" Nanu asked while Becky was setting out her clothes, humming to herself. Nanu still didn't have the hang of coordinating her outfits, and left to her own judgement, she usually ended up looking like a crazy homeless person. Ergo, Becky was in charge of dressing her for when they went out. "Even I'm a little nervous, but I always am when I see my profs," the blonde told her, smiling. "It's been about three years since I last got together with them, we met up at a certain club. But I'm also feeling excited. I always have the time of my life when I'm with them." "You're the only person I know of who's ever felt that way about their teachers, then," Nanu said, sitting naked on the bed and watching. "Except for maybe M-ark, but he gets to fuck you." "Just wait until you meet my teachers, then," Becky replied, smiling slyly as she held up a shirt for Nanu to wear. Fifteen minutes later. "This is not the same direction we went to meet your other friends," Nanu observed, looking out the window as they drove. There were fewer of the giant buildings, the so-called 'sky-scrapers', and many of the domiciles were larger, more ornate, with larger spans of grass than at other houses she'd seen. "Do wealthy farmers live in these places?" Becky snickered. Since the area they were driving through was not overly urban, with buildings heaped on top of buildings, Nanu thought they were visiting a rural area. Affluent suburbs like this must have felt strange. "No, wealthy people live in places like this, but they're not farmers. These are like the villas of wealthy Romans, I guess, like the Flavians. They're politicians, lawyers, merchants;” "Do your teachers live here?" Nanu asked. "No, not quite," Becky said, still driving and wondering what Nanu would think when they reached their destination. "It's hard to describe, just wait and see." They continued driving until they turned onto the Bridle Path, and Nanu was gazing in wonder at all the endless trees that concealed the neighborhood from public view. They began passing houses, all of which were affluent, of course, but weren't much more impressive than the ones they'd passed to get here. Then they began reaching the oldest estates, and Nanu's eyes grew wide. The lots grew in size, and sometimes she almost couldn't see the houses. Endless grass and trees, and the houses Nanu could see were huge. Becky was feeling a tingle of excitement as she turned up a long, winding driveway, lined with trees. Some carefully arranged rocks at the entrance had the letters of a word carved into them, but Nanu only caught a glimpse of it as they turned. BLACKWELL "Was that word in the big letters a name, Mistress?" she asked. Becky nodded. She hadn't been here for some years. "The family name is Blackwell. This place is over a hundred years old." "Black; weh;” Nanu said slowly. Nanu was staring at all the trees and the extensive lawn with its topiary when Becky got her attention. "Here we are, darling." Nanu's eyes widened when she saw what they were approaching. The long, massive building was made of gleaming white stone, stretching a long way in either direction. A great fountain in the middle of the black road greeted them, and they circled around it to stop in front of the place. "I no longer think you are wealthy, Mistress," Nanu murmured, gaping out her window as Becky turned off her car, sitting still for several seconds and staring at the steering wheel. The blonde took a breath. "Okay; I'm ready;” "Quid est?" Nanu asked. Mistress had been speaking her dreadful En-gush. "Sorry, honey," Becky said, squeezing Nanu's hand. "I was just getting myself ready;” She got out of the car while Nanu tried to unbuckle herself. Becky came around and opened her door, letting Nanu out before they turned and walked up the short flight of marble stairs to the big white doors. Someone was already waiting for them, a serious-looking woman in grey clothes. "Is that one of your teachers?" Nanu asked quietly as she held Becky's hand. "She looks like a teacher." "Miss Fischer, welcome," the woman said, smiling and nodding her head. "I am Tatyana, seneschal for Mr. and Mrs. DeBourne." "Thank you, Tatyana," Becky said, coming up the stairs. "Please, call me Becky, and this is Nanu." "Hello, Nanu," Tatyana said, smiling. "Hi," Nanu said, remembering how to greet someone and holding up her hand to wave. "Nanu doesn't speak English, we communicate in Latin," Becky explained. Nanu figured her Mistress was telling the stern woman how she didn't speak En-gush, so she just listened quietly. "Then you will need to be my translator, since I confess that aside from English, I only speak Russian, and no Latin," Tatyana replied, gesturing for them to enter and then following. They stopped in the grand foyer, and Nanu was Uhking around, her jaw almost on the floor. "I'm sorry if we're early, I didn't want to compete with traffic," Becky confessed, handing the seneschal a bag in which she was carrying two bottles. "And I've always been terrified of being late where the profs are concerned, so better to be early. I brought some wine I thought they might enjoy." Tatyana nodded. "They are in a virtual conference call at the moment. I have standing orders to make you both as comfortable as possible until they greet you. Let me call the staff, and we'll get started." Nanu watched as the stern woman brought her wrist up to her face and spoke quietly into some device wrapped around it. She then put her wrist down and waited patiently. Nanu was still looking all around, as if her head was on a swivel. The ceilings were so very tall! Everything was white, with gilding. The giant staircase at the back of the entrance hall was flanked by two huge suits of armour, each of them holding a menacing weapon. Nanu resisted the urge to hide behind her Mistress. What kind of teachers were these? Soon, she heard people approaching, and then they were assembling behind Tatyana. When they'd all fallen into place, Tatyana began introductions. "Right, as you lot might have heard, Mr. and Mrs. DeBourne have some special guests today. "I would like to introduce Ms. Rebecca Fischer, and her friend, Nanu." "Welcome," they all said in unison, nodding, except for two women in strange black dresses trimmed in white, who did a graceful little bow that also bent their knees. "Miss Fischer, I'll let my people introduce themselves," Tatyana said, gesturing to the staff. Becky stepped forward, bringing Nanu with her, and she started at one end of the line. "My name's Dave, senior landscaper," the gruff looking man said, shaking Becky's hand. He was positively ancient by Nanu's assessment, bald on top with greyish hair on the sides of his head and his moustache and beard. He looked rugged and tough for a grandfather. Next up, she greeted a young and handsome black man. "I am Yolatunde, but please, call me Tunde," he said, shaking her hand. "I am the junior landscaper." "Please call me Becky," the blonde said, smiling. She felt Nanu tugging on her arm and looked down at her. "They have a Nubian slave?" the Egyptian girl asked, hardly able to keep the wonder out of her voice. Becky chose to not try and address this issue right now, and would simply have to see to it before Nanu said anything awkward. The woman she now stood in front of was tall, rangy and strongly built. She had her dirty blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, and her denim overalls did little to hide her curves or her large bust. Her hazel eyes reflected her good-natured smirk. "Andrea, mechanic, plumber, and electrician for the estate." "Can I call you if I ever need my plumbing flushed?" Becky asked as she shook Andrea's hand, feeling something pass between them. Andrea laughed heartily. Yes, this girl would be fun indeed. Nanu seemed in awe of how imposing this woman's build was, not unlike a gladiatrix from Rome, but taller. "Glenda, estate chauffeuse," said another woman, smartly dressed in a grey outfit and wearing an odd little cap Nanu couldn't quite figure out. "If you need to go anywhere while you're staying with us, don't even think of driving yourself, I'll take care of it. It's how the bosses would want it." "Don't I know it," Becky laughed, moving down the line. She shook hands with Marie, a slight, frizzy-haired woman in glasses who was the botanist and gardener for the estate. She had a French accent, and Becky was relieved she'd kept up with her French, not only because she was afraid the profs would quiz her. "Hey, I'm Ari," said a smartly dressed young man with dark hair and eyes and tan features. He was handsome, for sure, but he gave off a gay vibe. "Cybersecurity for the estate. You won't mind if I lock your phone down while you're here, will you? For your own protection as much as anything. It's a good idea to be behind our firewall." "Do what you need to do, Ari, I know it's what the profs would want," Becky said, readily handing over her phone to him. Next in line was a sturdy woman wearing an apron and looking like she'd just come from the kitchen. "Theresa," she said pleasantly. "Estate chef and sommelier. The pleasure is mine, and just let me know what your culinary preferences are." "I'm willing to bet you're going to be Nanu's new favorite person," Becky replied, smirking down at Nanu, who heard her name but had no idea what was going on. She'd just have to wait for her Mistress to tell her. "Hi, I'm Trilby, senior housekeeper," said one of the women in the black dresses. She had light brown hair and was wearing strange things over her eyes. They reminded Nanu of the 'glasses' her Mistress sometimes wore, but these obscured the woman's eyes from view. "If you're staying' over, I'll be seeing to your sleeping arrangements." "Well, I doubt we are this time, but if that changes, you'll be the first to know," Becky said readily. She hadn't been to Blackwell Manor in some years, so the idea appealed to her. Lastly, they greeted an enthusiastic young woman, in another black outfit, but it was markedly different from the one the taller girl wore. This outfit was short and tight, and Nanu ended up staring right at the girl's big tits, which were in her face. Her legs were also visible, and if she moved just right, Nanu was sure she could see her undergarments. "Hi, I'm Valentina, junior housekeeper, but just call me Val," the girl chirped, smiling brightly. Her dark brown hair was worn in a bob, and her brown eyes radiated cheerfulness. Nanu wasn't certain but she also looked like she might have cat ears on top of her head. What was this creature? "Just call me Becky, please, I'm only Miss Fischer when I'm in trouble with your bosses," Becky said, shaking her hand. "And hopefully I'll manage to avoid that with the profs today." "That all depends on how you answer certain questions, Miss Fischer," Tatyana almost seemed to quip, making several staff members chuckle. What on earth was that about? She didn't like feeling paranoid around the profs. "Right," Tatyana announced, turning to look at her staff. "Carry on with your normal routines; if I have need of any of you, I'll call for you. Dismissed." Everyone nodded and then dispersed, leaving Tatyana with Becky and Nanu. The only other one who remained behind was Theresa, and she waited patiently. Nanu was once again, looking around the huge foyer, Uhking at everything. "Hopefully your hosts won't be detained too long," Tatyana said, checking her watch. "Perhaps some food or coffee while you're waiting?" Becky now looked down at Nanu. "Honey, Theresa here is the archimagirus for the estate. She is asking if you would like to eat while we wait for my teachers." The tiny girl nodded readily. Theresa smiled and bent over slightly, her hands on her knees. This girl Nanu was adorable! "Nanu, what would you like to eat?" Nanu figured out what was being asked, and she had her answer ready. "Ba-lo;” she said missing a beat. Theresa looked at Jenny for a moment. "Ba-lo?" "Bologna," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "It is, without question, her favorite food, believe me." "But I can make just about anything she likes," Theresa pointed out, seeming confused. "Why would she just want something as simple as that?" "We don't have taste buds like she does," Becky explained, while Nanu opened her mouth and pointed inside it, then smiled and licked her lips while rubbing her tummy. She looked like Nibbles the Mouse from old Tom and Jerry cartoons. "I think she's addicted to nitrates and preservatives, despite what havoc they wreak on her digestive tract. She was an actual slave where she comes from, so I'm pretty sure she has an iodine deficiency, she loves salt." "Oh, the poor thing," Theresa cooed, taking Nanu by the hand and leading her toward the small dining room. "In that case, I'll give her all the bologna she wants." "Ba-lo," Nanu said readily, willing to let this unknown person take her anywhere if she was going to get fed. Becky walked along behind, along with Tatyana, who watched intently. "A very interesting life you lead, Miss Fischer," the seneschal mused. "Tatyana, I wouldn't even know where to begin these days;” Becky sighed. Thirty minutes later. Nanu was still sitting at the table, eating happily and drinking milk while Becky and Theresa sat with her, the latter watching with no small amount of fascination. "Goodness, she can certainly pack it away for such a little thing," Theresa mused. "I daresay she might give the lord of the manor or his son Alex a run for their money. Does she have two hollow legs?" "She's not a slave anymore, so I stressed to her that she's always welcome to eat as much as she wants," Becky said, still feeling a certain morbid fascination in watching Nanu plow through everything she was offered. "Sometimes I just forget exactly what she's capable of." "Well, as long as she doesn't explode and poor Val and Trilby have to clean her up," Theresa said. "She ate that whole slab of organic bologna I brought out, and now she's killing my brisket." "And less than a week ago, she thought cow meat was a lowly peasant food," Becky sighed, eating her own croissant and having a coffee. It was still breakfast after all, but Nanu's metabolism knew no time zones. "I have yet to find a food she won't eat. She literally destroyed an entire pound of suicide wings the other night at a pub, even though it just about blew her head off. She's kind of relentless." "Good morning, Miss Fischer," said a very elderly gentleman in a clipped but friendly English accent as he entered the room. "It has been some years, hasn't it?" "Oh my goodness, Mister Winson," Becky said happily as she stood up and hugged the new arrival. Nanu even paused and looked up from her brisket to see what was happening. She put down her food and stood up, coming around the table now. She was trying to remember the manners Becky had taught her. Since she'd been a slave and had to stand when, well, anyone was in the room, it wasn't that hard for her to keep in mind. "It's so good to see you again, sir!" "It is good to see you as well, my dear, but please, call me Jordan," the man said, returning the hug. "I'm retired now, and simply a member of the family, so I'm told." "Okay, but call me Becky, then, or at least Rebecca," she replied, smiling up at him. She hadn't seen Jordan in many years, but he seemed the same as ever, crisp and dignified. She turned to Nanu and gestured for her to come closer. "Nanu, come here and say hello, this man is named Jordan." "Jor-dah," the tiny girl repeated as she walked right up to Jordan and hugged him, just as she'd seen her Mistress do. "Oh, hello," Jordan said, somewhat surprised by the greeting, but adapting to it readily. Theresa, who was standing nearby, couldn't resist letting out an 'Awe!' sound at the sight. "It's very nice to meet you, young lady." "Sorry, she doesn't speak English, we communicate in Latin," Becky explained as Nanu finally finished the hug. She helped Jordan sit while Nanu returned to her seat and continued showing the brisket who was in charge. "I admit, my conversational Latin is about as rusty as my joints, but I'll endeavor to make myself understood," Jordan said while Theresa served him some tea. They discussed Nanu's phony background for some time, with other staff members occasionally coming in and out. Nanu seemed very taken with Val's tits, and made no bones about it. Val giggled as Nanu bent over in her chair and tried to look up her skirt. Nanu seemed to have finally been sated when Tatyana came back into the room, smiling. "Your hosts are finally out of their meeting now and ready to receive you, Miss Fischer. If you would both please follow me;” Becky thanked Theresa for the food (Nanu hugged her), and then excused herself from Jordan before following Tatyana out of the informal dining room. They went back through the long halls, arriving at the grand foyer again. Tatyana then took them up the stairs. Nanu only tripped twice, because she was so busy Uhking at everything around her. Up to the third floor they went, and Tatyana led them toward a lounge. The seneschal stopped outside the room and nodded her head. "If you have any needs, Mr. and Mrs. DeBourne will make sure we see to them. It's been a pleasure, Miss Fischer." Becky nodded and watched as Tatyana turned and left. She took another deep breath and then took hold of the doorknob, opening the door and walking in, gesturing for Nanu to wait in the hall for a moment. The Egyptian girl nodded and stood still. "Rebecca Nightingale Fischer!" chimed a heavenly voice, making Becky squeal with delight. She trotted up and threw herself into the bronze-haired beauty's embrace, laughing in relief. How she'd missed these hugs. "It is so good to see you again, my dear!" "It's so good to see you both as well," Becky breathed, feeling her eyes sting at the sight of the two people who'd had more of an influence on her than anyone else in her life, her parents included. Karen DeBourne's hypnotic golden eyes shone with happiness. Next to her towered her husband, his electric blue eyes holding her spellbound. He cast a shadow over her, because he was so tall and so muscular. "I left Nanu in the hallway for a sec, just in case I started crying. May I get her?" The huge blond man nodded. Becky went back to the door and gestured for Nanu to come in, her smile a reassuring one. Nanu took her hand and came into the room, looking around, but a split second later, she dropped to her knees, her hands pressed to the floor and her head hung. She was almost shaking and they could hear her gasping and mumbling. "Nanu?" Becky said, very confused by the reaction. She got it; meeting The DeBournes for the first time, especially Michael DeBourne, could be intimidating, since he was almost seven feet tall and solid muscle. But this was a rather extreme reaction, and Becky hadn't expected it. "Nanu, are you okay?" Nanu kept mumbling, but she was trembling almost violently, refusing to look up. "You're speaking to her in Latin," the tall, bronze-haired woman said. Becky nodded. "She doesn't speak English, and I don't speak her native tongue, but she speaks Latin, so that's how we communicate," she said, still not at all sure what was going on. Was Nanu that frightened? "You said she's Egyptian, yes?" Karen asked. Becky nodded. Karen stepped forward slightly and then spoke. "Nanu, alraja' alwuquf." The tiny girl didn't comply with the request to stand, just trembling harder and still mumbling. "Well, she doesn't speak Arabic," Karen mused, her finger under her chin. Becky seemed at a loss, which did not go unnoticed by her hosts. She looked up at her husband. "Not Arabic." Mike nodded and took over, his voice deep and commanding. "Nanu, I want you to stand up." At hearing her native Coptic tongue, Nanu paused in her mumbling, going silent. She even stopped trembling. Slowly, very slowly, she pushed herself off her hands, getting to her knees and then rising to her feet. She resolutely kept her head down, though, looking at the floor. "Look up at us, Nanu," the huge man said. Nanu slowly lifted her head, and her light hazel eyes were brittle with fear, but also sheer awe. Her vision was filled with the sight of these two unfathomably tall and beautiful beings, the likes of which she had never conceived of. Even her Mistress was downright plain compared to them. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. "So we need to speak Coptic to her and not Arabic," Karen concluded, observing the girl. "She must be from a very remote part of Egypt indeed." "Oh my God," Becky groaned in exasperation, looking at the ceiling and almost stomping her foot. "Am I the only person I know who doesn't speak this dead language?" Karen looked up at her husband. "Coptic, and not liturgically, and Latin. Rather odd, I daresay." She looked at Becky now. "That must be taxing for you both, needing to speak in Latin to make it in an English world." "You don't know the half of it, Lady Prof," Becky admitted. "I've never seen her react like that before, and she terrified of almost anything she can't eat." Karen now stepped directly in front of Nanu, knelt and took the tiny girl's hands in hers. Nanu's eyes snapped wide open at the contact, her pupils shrinking in little more than pinholes. "Nanu," Karen said softly, smiling as she spoke in Coptic. "Welcome to our home. I am so happy that you are here." Nanu heard Becky call out in panic while her eyes rolled up into her head and she crumpled to the floor. A few minutes later. "Well, you weren't kidding about the extreme reaction to things," Mike mused as he and Becky watched while Karen was sitting on the long chesterfield with Nanu lying on her, the Egyptian girl's head in her lap. She hadn't quite come to yet, and Karen was stroking her hair gently. "Any idea what that was about?" Becky was somewhat reticent to answer, since she wasn't even sure what to say. She finally decided that she needed to be honest. "I; well, this is going to sound ridic, but I think she thinks you're gods." Karen looked up from the couch, one of her eyebrows raised. "You're right, Rebecca, that does indeed sound 'ridic'. What impossibly remote corner of Egypt could she possibly come from where polytheistic beliefs still hold sway?" "It's; hard and weird to explain," Becky confessed rather lamely. At that moment, Valentina came in, and she was holding a small silver tray with an array of food on it. She handed it to Mike, curtsied, and exited the room. The huge man brought the tray to his wife, who examined the contents for a moment before picking up a rolled-up piece of Theresa's homemade bologna. She held it under Nanu's nose. "Even better than smelling salts," Becky muttered as she heard Nanu sniff something, and even before she'd opened her eyes, she leaned forward enough to take the proffered meat in her mouth. "Ba-lo;” she said somewhat dazedly, chewing away. Becky and Mike watched as Nanu ate the bologna while Karen just stroked her hair. It was some moments before Nanu looked up and realized where she was, scrambling off her host's lap, and prostrating herself on the floor, trembling and mumbling again. Karen and Mike looked at one another while Becky sighed and bent down to gently haul Nanu to her feet. She still wouldn't look at them, though. "We didn't mean to interrupt, Rebecca, please resume," Mike said. "Why does she think we're gods?" Here we go. "Well, she's never seen anyone quite like either of you, physically," Becky began. "And where she's from, there's' She felt a little tickle in her throat and she coughed rather harshly. "Are you quite all right, darling?" the gorgeous matriarch asked, curious. "Sorry," Becky rasped, waving it off. "I felt the tickle earlier in my throat when I was drinking coffee. Your chef Theresa put chicory in it, didn't she?" "She's been known to, yes," Karen confirmed, nodding. "Do you have an allergy?" "A very mild reaction, but sometimes it can flare up," the blonde said, puzzled. "Anyway, I' She paused to take another breath, her throat was still scratchy. The more she wanted to say something, the more she felt the itch. What on earth? "Could I; possibly borrow a piece of paper and a writing implement?" she asked. Karen walked over to a small credenza in the corner and returned with a small steno pad and pencil. Nanu was still staring at the two terrifying and wondrous beings, her mouth dry and her eyes rather wet. Karen handed the paper and pencil to Becky, who tried to write something. The tip of the pencil broke off. Karen tilted her head for a moment and then returned to her desk, coming back with a fountain pen, offering it to her guest. Becky pressed it to the paper, but the ink just spilled out of the tip, flooding the small square of paper. "Goodness," Karen said, quickly ducking low and putting another, larger page of paper she'd brought back under the steno pad, catching any ink that rolled off and threatened to stain her priceless rug. "Michael, perchance can Rebecca use your Rubus? I left mine back in the office." The giant man pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and handed it to Becky, having unlocked it. Karen had already carefully taken the steno pad and fountain pen from her guest, walking them over to a small waste basket to safely dispose of them. Becky intended to use the text or document function to explain herself, but Mike's device winked out. "I think the battery just died," she said, handing it back to him. "Entirely." "What did I tell your father about having these batteries made in Guangzhou?" Mike asked as he looked down at his wife while putting the Rubus back in his pocket. "They skimp on the lithium, meaning the wiring degrades at least fifty percent more quickly." "Duly noted, your lordship," Karen sighed, shaking her head. "Yet another thing to bring up to the board at the next meeting. New batteries from elsewhere will mean tweaking the programming. That will cause some grumbling. I'm sorry, Rebecca, you were saying?" Becky seemed somewhat irked. She walked over to one of the window looking out over the back lot and leaned in, breathing on it. She'd try to write it there. Surely condensation would be her friend? "Those windows are thermochromic, my dear," Karen mentioned, still watching. "Not only are they slightly warm, but they have a coating on them that prevents condensation buildup, generally." "Nanu?" Becky called, snapping the smaller girl out of her trance. Nanu glanced at her Mistress and Becky beckoned her over with a finger. The blonde down and whispered in her ear. "Nanu, please tell them that you are from Imperial Rome." "No," Nanu whispered back, shaking her head and sounding very nervous. "They won't believe me, and they'll punish me. Please, Mistress, don't make me do it;” "Rebecca," Mike called over, his deep voice commanding but also kind and reassuring. "There's no need, just come back over here, please." Becky stood up and returned to stand with her professors again, holding Nanu's hand. The Egyptian girl had gone back to averting her gaze, looking at the floor. They both just stood there, as if letting school headmasters assess them. "She can't tell us," Karen mused aloud, but obviously talking to her husband. "It almost defies Bohm Interpretation." Becky had heard the term, but had no idea what it meant in this context. They weren't talking to her in any event. She just listened and waited. "The harder she tries, the more it hurts, and any attempt is stymied," Mike agreed. "Things that seem completely coincidental are all entangled. Who knew about the chicory?" "And we happened to be in the lounge where we installed some of the first thermochromic windows," Karen added. "No chance for condensation and finger-writing." She looked back at the waste basked. "Damn, I really liked that pen, too." Holy shit, Becky thought, almost shuddering at a realization. Am I encountering time lock? I'm not allowed to tell them? Will the fucking universe kill me before it lets me? There was something so inherently unfair about this in her eyes. Not that she couldn't tell them, but the fact that Mike and Karen DeBourne, two of the most amazing people and gifted physicists walking the planet, were not meant to know about her time traveling. The two people she desperately wanted to share this with more than anything, and it wasn't meant to be. When she looked up at them, she felt a stinging in her eyes. "I'm; I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling. "Will you hate me if I ask you to stop inquiring about Nanu and myself?" She sighed in relief as Karen stepped forward and pulled her into a warm embrace. She may have been disappointed, but at least she could stop trying, for now. Nanu looked up when she felt the movement, seeing her Mistress being hugged. Her eyes went wider than dinner plates when she saw the goddess with the golden eyes take her Mistress' face in her hands and then kiss her, deeply. The giant god with the golden hair and the eyes the color of the sea reached down and kept her from falling on her ass as the strength left her legs. She goggled up at him, stunned beyond speech as he smiled down at her. Slowly, Nanu turned her head to look over at her Mistress again, who was still kissing the tall, bronze-haired goddess. It was no chaste or even reverent kiss, it was; lewd, it was. Becky groaned as Karen's tongue began to tangle with hers. Nanu gasped in utter shock. Was her Mistress tongue-fucking the goddess? Nanu let out an unintelligible sound of confusion, and this caused Karen and Becky to finally break the kiss. Still holding one another, they looked over and down at her, smiling warmly. "She seems overwhelmed," Karen mused. "She's never seen anyone kiss a goddess before," Becky said, smirking. "Not even me. That sure got her attention. I give it three seconds before her competitive jealousy kicks in." "Well, it won't do to have jealous guests in my house," Karen chimed, her voice music in Nanu's ears. The Egyptian girl had heard those lovely tones once before, during a conversation over her Mistress' magic talking box a few days ago. Mistress had been speaking to the goddess! The god and goddess were Mistress' teachers she was referring to! "And here we go again," Becky sighed as Nanu wilted in Mike's arms, seeming to faint for a second time. And probably not the last time today. A little bit later. Nanu was sitting on the giant bed, in the giant room, looking around. She seemed to have not noticed that she was completely naked, as was Becky, who had just finished undressing. The room was unlike anything she had ever seen or even conceived of. "The gods sleep in here?" she asked in a tiny voice. There we have it, Becky realized. She really does believe they're gods. Then again, I was the tallest woman she'd ever seen before she met Karen. And Mike, well; what do I do about it? Do I try to persuade her that they're not gods? That could take forever, and she'll fight it. I can't encourage it, so maybe just leave it and let her work it out for herself? Working things out for herself seemed to be Nanu's MO, so that what Becky decided on. She finally nodded. "They sleep here, yes." "You were kissing the goddess," Nanu breathed, looking at Becky in wonder. "She was kissing you. Mistress, have you; have you fucked these gods before?" Becky just nodded again. Nanu thought about that, her eyes roaming over the expansive floor in front of her, and then at her own naked body. "And I; do these gods intend to fuck me?" This brought a smile to Becky's lovely face. "If that is what you desire, my love. I told you several times this past week, we came to have fun with my teachers, and having sex with them was actually what I meant." "Your teachers are the gods themselves," Nanu murmured. "Are all teachers gods in your world?" "Not even close," Becky said, shaking her head. "But nobody had a bigger influence on my life and who I became than these two." "Well of course, they're gods," reasoned the Egyptian girl, almost frowning because she felt strange explaining the perfectly obvious to her Mistress. "What; what happens if I fuck these gods?" "Well, you cum, probably harder than you ever have in your life," Becky replied. "What did you expect to happen?" "I won't become a god myself?" Nanu asked. "I haven't yet." "What if I let the sun god cum in me?" pressed the former slave-girl. "Will I have a demigod childlike Hercules, who the Romans worshipped?" Becky just laughed and pulled Nanu to her feet. The smaller girl seemed justifiably hesitant, but Becky led her over to the large door off to one side of the room and into an enormous and sumptuous bathing chamber. Nanu's eyes were everywhere, trying to take it all in, but she stopped dead upon seeing who awaited them. It was the gods, and they were also naked. The goddess, the one her Mistress referred to as 'Karen', was a glorious sight to behold. She was even taller than Mistress, and her tits were larger, standing proudly on her chest. They were each as large or larger than Nanu's head. Her body was flawless, with a single strip of trimmed coppery hair crowning the mound just over her cunt. She had the same long dancer's legs that Nanu did. Her golden eyes were intimidating and at the same time very welcoming. Whoever she was looking at just had to choose which was applicable to them. Nanu trembled almost in fear at the sight of the god, though. He was immeasurably tall to her, she barely reached his chest. He was more powerfully built than any man or even statue she'd ever laid eyes on, with muscles bulging everywhere. He had a small waist under his huge torso, and his cock was frighteningly large, even though it was soft. The muscles of his legs were bigger around than Nanu's chest. Had her Mistress really fucked that god? Had she really fucked that cock? His eyes were the color of a fearsome sea, but they were looking at her now with a kind expression she found strangely comforting in one who must have been a god of war and conquest, not just a sun god. "Has Nanu experienced a hot tub yet?" Karen asked, smiling pleasantly. "Nope," Becky replied, shaking her head. "Not on my watch, anyway. I don't think they had the ability or technology where she comes from." "Be frank about this next question, Rebecca," the goddess continued, gesturing to the large tub set into the floor. "Will she want to participate in our planned debauchery?" That made Becky laugh. "Trust me, Lady Prof, once she decides she's in, there'll be no stopping her. She's a complete sex fiend, it's kinda scary. Honestly, we should just dive into it, and she'll watch until she feels left out, and then insist on getting involved." "Excellent," Karen said as she let her husband escort her into the tub. "Shall I see to Nanu while you give my husband his due greeting?" "Never thought you'd ask, Lady Prof," Becky breathed, heading to the tub and clambering in. She had Nanu by the hand, but the smaller girl seemed hesitant. Becky released her and went to Mike, slipping into his titan arms. Karen, meanwhile stood in front of Nanu, smiling at her. "Come, Nanu," the goddess said in Latin, holding out her arms. "Come to me." Trembling but unable to disobey, Nanu stepped forward and put her hands in the goddess'. She allowed herself to be led down into the humming, churning water, her eyes still fixed on Karen's. Whereas the water reached Karen's waist, it was almost up to Nanu's tits when she was standing in the center. She felt the warm water bubbling around her, and it would have fascinated her if she hadn't been held by the gaze of the goddess. "Do you want me to kiss you?" Karen asked. Nanu nodded almost imperceptibly, her heart thundering in her chest. Karen pulled her close, until their tits were squashed together. Nanu's eyes went wide as the goddess pressed her soft lips to hers, kissing her deeply. Nanu's eyes closed now, and she slowly brought her hands up to embrace the deity. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt before, even with her Mistress. Her mind just melted away. She felt her tongue tangling with the goddess', and realized she was actively kissing Karen back. Mistress had already told her that they'd come here to fuck these two, these gods, who were apparently her teachers. As much as she revered Re-be-kah, she seemed to have underestimated her still, since not everyone was allowed to fuck gods. And she was now allowed to? Nanu began to kiss back harder, surrendering to her innate desire and eagerness. She felt her tits pressing into the goddess', her nipples jabbing and scraping, getting very hard. The goddess slowly moved backward, taking Nanu with her, until she was sitting down, and pulled Nanu into her lap. Nanu rested on her thighs as they kept kissing, tongues exploring and tangling. Nanu whimpered in pleasure as Karen's hands began to roam around her body, caressing and exploring. The kiss broke long enough for them to look into one another's eyes, and Nanu was almost panting, a long string of glistening saliva drooping between their tongues. She felt the goddess' hands reach her ass, taking hold of her cheeks and squirming. Karen smiled and spoke in that enchanting voice. "Do you want to play with my tits, my dear?" Nanu nodded and leaned back just far enough to see the goddess' tits, which were larger than even Mistress'. Nanu couldn't remember ever seeing tits so big on any woman, unless they were enormously fat and floppy. This was something totally different, and Nanu was enthralled by the sight that awaited her. These divine tits were large and full, soft and firm, standing up and with dusky nipples begging to be kissed and sucked on. And Nanu would oblige. "Hmm, very nice," the goddess purred as Nanu leaned down and took one of the nipples inside her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue around it. Karen gently clasped and cradled Nanu's head, letting her experiment. She felt the tiny girl bit and tug gently, which gave her a shiver. "You must enjoy making love to girls, yes?" she asked in Latin. Nanu just nodded, enveloped in this being's warm arms, almost feeling like she was suckling. She remembered practicing with her sister Kiya so very long ago back in dusty little Akhmim. She never could have guessed she'd be doing it now on a goddess. Her eyes opened as she heard a moan come from nearby, a moan she recognized as that of her Mistress. She looked over and stared dumbly, somehow remembering to keep suckling while watching Re-be-kah servicing the war god. Mistress was on her knees in the tub, while the god was leaning back against the edge, and she had his enormous, hard cock in her hand. She stroked the shaft while her lips were sealed around it, and she was bobbing back and forth, making an effort to push farther down its length with each movement. Nanu seized up and groaned as one of the goddess' hands glided down her body and under her ass, finding her cuntlips and stroking gently. "She looks good doing that, doesn't she, Nanu?" the goddess asked, smiling slyly. She stroked gently along her lover's nether lips, teasing her and making Nanu tremble in her lap. Nanu was having a hard time remembering to keep sucking and licking, but she somehow endured. "Would you like to try?" Nanu was whimpering, but she nodded. "Tag, DeBourne," Karen said, reaching out her hand to touch Mike's. "Nanu wants a whirl at the beast." "Do you mind, Rebecca?" the giant man asked, looking down at the woman currently pleasuring him. "Hmm, not at all, sir," Becky replied, popping her mouth off and smiling up at him, still stroking with her hand. "Don't want my jaw to get sore too early, after all." She stood and moved back, while Karen peeled Nanu off her lap. Despite expressing a desire to switch, Nanu seemed nervous, and Becky knelt in the water and took her face in her hands, smiling gently and whispering against her lips. "It's okay, my love," she said. "This is part of your new world, after all." Nanu nodded and moved over to the war god while Becky took her place, sliding into Karen's lap. Unlike Nanu, she wasn't perched on it, but managed to slip one of her legs back behind Karen's ass, and soon their pussies were pressed together while they embraced one another. They smiled before resuming the kiss they'd shared in the study, but even more deep and passionate now. "Hmm, God, I've missed this," Becky mumbled, her tongue dancing wetly with Karen's. Their tits squashed, and they squirmed against each other, reconnecting. It had been too long since they'd made love. The last time they'd been able to meet up had simply been in a café, no chance to get naughty there. "We have too," Karen replied, exploring Becky's mouth. They remembered what the other liked, and their rhythm fell easily into place. "And you need to promise to visit more often, my love." "We will," Becky said, her heart fluttering. These two had meant so much to her. They'd first met her when she was simply a precocious teenager in high school, attending an institution they were considering sending their son to once he had left his Montessori. They'd been impressed by her grasp of science and had sponsored her readily, leading to many opportunities she might never have had, no matter how much her grades might have earned them. She even studied abroad for a few summers on their dime, going to Stanford, Oxford, and Lucerne. And then they'd made sure that she had a place at the university, and got into all the Science classes she desired. She had always had the biggest crush on them both, and by now she thought she was madly in love with them. She became their lover, even while they were her instructors. They opened her eyes to so many things. And they'd inspired her. She knew she wanted to teach young minds, to give those young people the same passion and opportunities she'd been given. Once she had her degree that allowed her to teach, she took a job at a local high school, and the place was happy to have her as their principal science teacher. It turned out to not be as much fun as she had anticipated, with teenage students proving boring and reticent. Some years of this had made her feel worn down. If it hadn't been for Mark and his Holmes Field Device these past few weeks, she might have simply droned on, feeling the passion for teaching fizzle out of her. And now she found herself back here, with Nanu, and everything seemed wonderful again. She pulled Karen tighter into her embrace, kissed her harder, and felt their cuntlips mingling and slithering beneath the foaming water. "Hmm, your breath still smells like roses," Becky panted as they made out and made love. "Those rose pastilles are so wonderful. Please let me lick you, please;” Karen nodded and they broke the kiss, with Becky sidling backward off her lap and getting on her knees. Karen now leaned back, resting her amazing ass on the edge and spreading her legs wide enough for Becky to kneel between them. She gazed in quiet delight at her professor's cunt, so wet and inviting, shaved completely smooth except for the tightly trimmed strip above, the lips perfect and even. Karen DeBourne was absolutely flawless. Becky leaned in and began kissing, wasting no time in pleasuring the older woman. She kissed and lapped, shivering as she remembered this taste. A memory of her first time doing this flooded back to her, and she reveled in the scent and slick arousal of her teacher-lover. She dragged her tongue up the twat before flicking it against Karen's nub, making her tremble and sigh, one of her hands coming to rest on the back of her former student's head. Nanu was frowning now, having gotten (somewhat) over her intimidation and was trying to massage the god's massive tool. Her fingers didn't even wrap around it, and she had to use both hands in a motion together to slide up and down its length. She leaned in and pressed the tip of her tongue against the swollen head, bewildered about how her Mistress had fit the damn thing

653. Part 2 of our conversation with Kathleen DuVal about her book, Native Nations: A Millennium in North America. “Pulitzer Prize Winner - National Bestseller - A magisterial overview of a thousand years of Native American history” (The New York Review of Books), from the rise of ancient cities more than a thousand years ago to fights for sovereignty that continue today. Winner of the Bancroft Prize, the Cundill History Prize, and the Mark Lynton History Prize. Long before the colonization of North America, Indigenous Americans built diverse civilizations and adapted to a changing world in ways that reverberated globally. And, as award-winning historian Kathleen DuVal vividly recounts, when Europeans did arrive, no civilization came to a halt because of a few wandering explorers, even when the strangers came well armed. Now available: Liberty in Louisiana: A Comedy. The oldest play about Louisiana, author James Workman wrote it as a celebration of the Louisiana Purchase. Now it is back in print for the first time in 221 years. Order your copy today! This week in the Louisiana Anthology. Katie Bickham. "Widow's Walk, 1917." The word came that seven hundred thousand bodies had drawn their last breaths at Verdun, an earth-quaking number for those unacquainted with the greedy appetites of death. She had never been across the sea, but pictured the corpses laid in neat rows like chopped cane at harvest time.     “Apologies, ma'am,” came Small John's voice from the rear stairs.  “I'd'a sent Roberta, but she scared fiercely of high places. You got to come down. The sun will cook you through.”     Five weeks her husband had been gone, and she hadn't even heaved a sigh until she'd tried to fasten her silver bracelet on her own, a task best suited to a second pair of hands. Sweating, she gripped the chain until the metal grew hot in her palm.     “Ma'am?” Small John tried again.  Without turning, she could feel him moving closer. Had he ever touched her once in these long years? “Roberta said you in a fury.”     She turned from the iron railing and flung the bracelet at him hard.  It hit his shoulder, tinkled as it fell onto the slate. He lifted it by one end like a snake and walked toward her.  “I'd'a gone, too,” he said.  “Over there to fight. ‘Cept I don't see like I ought to, and my knee ain't right.”     He watched her as if she might bolt over the edge, body set to lunge. Her temper cooled quick, the way Louisiana afternoons went from sweltering to raising shivers on skin before a hurricane blew in from the gulf.  “Small John?” she asked. She held her shaking wrist out to him, her jaw and throat and chest all gone hot and raw.     She thought he might throw it back at her, but he looked at her straight on, barely glanced down as he slipped the tiny teeth of the clasp together around her wrist, never once touched her skin. This week in Louisiana history. November 22, 1886. 30 Negros killed/100 wounded by vigilanties to stop canefield strike in Thibodeaux, This week in New Orleans history. The New Orleans Recreation Department Keller Center at 1814 Magnolia Street was dedicated on November 22, 1971. It was named in honor of Rosa Freeman Keller who had dedicated decades of her life in New Orleans to racial and gender equality. This week in Louisiana. Christmas Wonderland in the Pines Locations around Jonesboro November 29, 2025 Grand Marshal Coffee and Ceremony - 10:00 AM in the Community Room in Town Hall. The Grand Marshal is presented a Proclamation from the Mayor declaring the day in their honor. Family, friends, and guest of the Grand Marshal are especially invited to attend the ceremony. All visitors and members of the public are also invited to attend. Business casual attire is encouraged. Official Turning on of the Christmas Lights - 12:00 PM Following the Grand Marshal Coffee, the over 5 million Christmas lights are officially turned on for the remainder of the holiday season. Annual Christmas Wonderland in the Pines Parade - 4:30 PM The annual parade starts along Cooper Avenue, turns at Third Street, comes down Allen Avenue toward the Courthouse and turns onto Jimmie Davis Boulevard, turns at Hudson Avenue, and finishes on Seventh Street. The judges' table is located on Jimmie Davis Blvd. at the steps of the Courthouse. Annual Firework Show - approximately 7:00 PM Once dark, the firework show will start. The fireworks are shot from the Public Works Department, under the supervision of the State Fire Marshal. The fireworks can be viewed from nearly anywhere in the city. Postcards from Louisiana. Aislinn Kerchaert. Thanksgiving.  Listen on Apple Podcasts. Listen on audible. Listen on Spotify. Listen on TuneIn. Listen on iHeartRadio. The Louisiana Anthology Home Page. Like us on Facebook. 

Pat Mills and Ian Ashcroft join me to discuss their current kickstarter for Hellbreaker: Fire in the Blood. Get onboard the kickstarter here, follow Pat on his Substack, and find Ian's art on Instagram and Facebook.You can find a list of all the upcoming books on the Facebook page, follow the podcast on instagram, Threads, Mastodon, and BlueSky. And email me comments and suggestions to MCBCpodcast@gmail.comMusic used in this episode is Circuit Breaker by the artist Robodub. Click here to listen to the episode online. Or Download here Right click and choose save link as to download to your computer.

Pat King in conversation with Darcey Coates and Brian McAuley

Scott interviews novelist Barry Eisler about his background at the CIA, how he woke up to the realities of the American empire, the insanity of Washington even considering a war with Venezuela, how he writes his novels and more. Discussed on the show: The Heart of the Matter - Eisler's Substack Endings: The Good, the Bad, and the Insanely Great Barry Eisler is a novelist and Substack writer. He formerly worked for the CIA but grew disillusioned and left to work as a lawyer and write thriller novels. Check out his books and story at his website BarryEisler.com Audio cleaned up with the Podsworth app: https://podsworth.com Use code HORTON50 for 50% off your first order at Podsworth.com to clean up your voice recordings, sound like a pro, and also support the Scott Horton Show! For more on Scott's work: Check out The Libertarian Institute:  https://www.libertarianinstitute.org Check out Scott's other show, Provoked, with Darryl Cooper https://youtube.com/@Provoked_Show Read Scott's books: Provoked: How Washington Started the New Cold War with Russia and the Catastrophe in Ukraine https://amzn.to/47jMtg7 (The audiobook of Provoked is being published in sections at https://scotthortonshow.com) Enough Already: Time to End the War on Terrorism: https://amzn.to/3tgMCdw Fool's Errand: Time to End the War in Afghanistan https://amzn.to/3HRufs0 Follow Scott on X @scotthortonshow And check out Scott's full interview archives: https://scotthorton.org/all-interviews This episode of the Scott Horton Show is sponsored by: Roberts and Roberts Brokerage Incorporated https://rrbi.co Moon Does Artisan Coffee https://scotthorton.org/coffee; Tom Woods' Liberty Classroom https://www.libertyclassroom.com/dap/a/?a=1616 and Dissident Media https://dissidentmedia.com You can also support Scott's work by making a one-time or recurring donation at https://scotthorton.org/donate/ https://scotthortonshow.com or https://patreon.com/scotthortonshow Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

 Download Audio. Scott interviews novelist Barry Eisler about his background at the CIA, how he woke up to the realities of the American empire, the insanity of Washington even considering a war with Venezuela, how he writes his novels and more. Discussed on the show: The Heart of the Matter – Eisler's Substack Endings: […]

Join hosts Matthew Harffy and Justin Hill for a captivating chat with Michael Jecks — master of medieval murder, creator of the Templar and Bloody Mary series, and author of over 40 historical mysteries.From co-founding the Medieval Murderers to exploring how the publishing world has transformed over three decades, Michael shares his insights into plotting crimes, juggling multiple series, and keeping history alive through fiction.Discover how he builds stories that blend fact, intrigue, and murder, what it's like writing for publishers like Boldwood and Severn House, and why he's still passionate about his craft after 30 years.

Bridget, Caitlin, and Hilda discuss "Mate," by Ali Hazelwood, the follow-up to her hit novel "Bride." If you didn't know, they all love Ali's witty and humorous style of writing ... but was it enough to make them love this book? You'll have to listen to find out.  Join our Patreon for exclusive behind-the-scenes content and let's be friends!Instagram > @Booktokmademe_podTikTok > @BooktokMadeMe

Today we are having a spoiler filled discussion of "Sanctuary: A Bad Batch Novel" by Lamar Giles, which takes place during the latter half of the 2nd season of The Bad Batch (between episodes 13 and 15 of season 2). And joining us for this discussion is our Clone Wars Correspondent: Alex Bond and prolific author: Jendia Gammon. You can find all of Jendia's past and upcoming book info on her website: jendiagammon.com. You can also find her on the socials including Threads, Instagram, and BlueSky.  Talkin' Tauntauns is a Star Wars discussion podcast hosted by Jim Lehane and Nicole H. Quinn. From reviews of the latest shows and books, to breaking news and thoughtful interviews, join us as we dive into all things from a galaxy far, far away. Find us on the socials for more Star Wars conversation:Find the show on Instagram at TalkinTauntauns, Threads at TalkinTauntauns, Bluesky at TalkinTauntauns,or at our website TalkinTauntauns.com. Find Jim on IG @Dinojim, on Bluesky, or on his website at dinojim.com. Find Nicole on IG @NicoleHQuinn, Bluesky, or on her website at herviewcreative.com You can get in touch with us via our website (TalkinTauntauns.com) or email us at Contact@TalkinTauntauns.com. Talkin' Tauntauns can be found on iTunes, Spotify, Pandora, iHeartRadio, or anywhere else you listen to podcasts. If you enjoy the show, be sure to subscribe, leave us a review, and tell your friends!

What are the best Christian novels to read? In this episode of Classical Et Cetera we share a new list of books we think are especially worthwhile for Christian readers. These stories that have stayed with us, shaped our thinking, and resonated with our Christian beliefs. Whether you've read through our original list or you're simply looking for your next great book, this episode offers practical recommendations and helpful discussion!   *Read the original article from Martin Cothran—"Twelve Great Christian Novels"* https://www.memoriapress.com/articles/twelve-great-christian-novels/?utm_source=PodBean&utm_medium=CETC&utm_campaign=196   *Watch our previous episode on "12 Great Christian Books You Should Read"* https://youtu.be/j9vLO8-dfbc?si=gh9P0LSVzsFVIdAd?utm_source=PodBean&utm_medium=CETC&utm_campaign=196   *What We're Reading* from This Episode:  "Twenty Years After" Alexandre Dumas (Paul) "Green Dolphin Street" Elizabeth Goudge (Tanya) "King Lear" William Shakespeare (Tanya) "Northwest Angle" William Kent Krueger (Martin) "Merlin's Isle" Malcom Guite (Martin) "Truth Matters" Robert P. George & Cornel West (Martin)   *And here are titles that we talked about, this episode, adding on to the original "Twelve Great Christian Novels"* "A Lesson Before Dying" Ernest J. Gaines "East of Eden" John Steinbeck "Fidelity" Wendell Berry "Hannah Coulter "Wendell Berry "I Heard the Owl Call My Name" Margaret Craven "Jane Eyre" Charlotte Brontë "Silence" Shūsaku Endō "The Gathering" Anne Enright "The Princess and the Goblin" George MacDonald "The Scarlet Letter" Nathaniel Hawthorne "The Tenant of Wildfell Hall" Anne Brontë "To Kill a Mockingbird" Harper Lee    

Dr Merlinda Bobis is an award-winning writer and performer and an honorary senior lecturer at the Australian National University in Canberra - Si Dr. Merlinda Bobis ay isang award-winning na manunulat at performer, at honorary senior lecturer sa Australian National University sa Canberra.

Two mysteries (including the latest installment of a must-read series!) plus two other just-published books provide lots of fodder for conversation between hosts Sarah Bowen Shea and Ellison Weist (including a drool-inducing discussion of one author!). Also find out the classic novel Sarah and Ellison each recommend.  The four new books the duo discuss: -The Impossible Fortune: Richard Osman-Bog Queen: Anna North-Town & Country: Brian Schaefer-A Guardian and a Thief: Megha Majumdar Find 2026 hiking + biking program details here.    When you shop our sponsors, you help AMR.We appreciate your—and their—support! Get 20% off, plus free shipping, on allIQBAR products by texting AMR to 64-000 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Brooke and Tyler peel back the layers of the Cosmere's mystery man and discuss Hoid's contributions during Wind and Truth. We look at the small character moments, speculate on what it means to use multiple types of investiture, and wonder what the reality-bending final moments mean for Roshar's Wit. #AllSpoilers Support this podcast by becoming a Patron on Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/CosmereConversations) Original music by David Gruwier (https://twitter.com/DGruwier). "Radiant" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A5CFAZUv4C0) by David Gruwier.

On this week's episode of Excelsior Journeys: The Road to Creativity, host & producer George Sirois sits down with author Amanda Madison. While typical superhero stories fill comic book pages on a regular basis, Amanda is focused on taking those larger-than-life characters and making them the starts of their own series of novels. Her debut novel "Program 38: Sparks" is already available for purchase, as is the second part of her Program 38 series - "Truths."Excelsior Journeys: The Road to Creativity exists primarily as a platform for creatives of all kinds (authors, filmmakers, stand-up comics, musicians, voice artists, painters, podcasters, etc) to share their journeys to personal success. It is very important to celebrate those voices as much as possible to not only provide encouragement to up-and-coming talent, but to say thank you to the established men & women for inspiring the current generation of artists.If you agree that the Excelsior Journeys podcast serves a positive purpose and would like to show your appreciation, you can give back to the show by clicking HERE.Excelsior Journeys: The Road to Creativity is now a proud member of the Podmatch Podcast Network, and you can access all shows in the network by clicking HERE.

This week and next week we are going to review scenes. Today we'll be looking at the macro of scenes. What scenes are needed in genre fiction as well as what the difference is between Character Arc Scenes and Plot Scenes.Grab your free download here and let's go! https://katcaldwell.com/287Get on my writers' newsletter to learn more about the craft of writing, know when my workshops are and be the first to get exclusive information on my writing retreats. https://katcaldwell.com/writers-newsletterWant more information on my books, author swaps, short stories and what I'm reading? Sign up for my readers' newsletter. https://storylectory.katcaldwell.com/signup You can always ask me writing questions on instagram @author_katcaldwell

When the polymorphous writer Ursula K. Le Guin died in 2018, she left behind novels, short stories, poetry, essays, manifestos and French and Chinese translations. The huge and loyal readership among children and older readers that she built during her lifetime has only grown since her death, as has recognition of her work as ‘serious' literature. Chafing against her confinement in genre fiction, she liberated sci-fi, fantasy and YA literature from the condescension to which they had long been subjected. In 2016, she joined the short list of authors to be published in their lifetime by the Library of America. For the final regular episode of Fiction and the Fantastic (though there will be one more special episode) Marina and Chloe read ‘The Left Hand of Darkness' and ‘The Dispossessed': works of exceptional imaginative power and intellectual range, passionate idealism and keen-eyed observation. Is Le Guin's status in both literary and ‘genre' canons a testament to the force and clear-sightedness of her radical – even prophetic – political vision? And what does it mean for the fantastic if we accept her self-characterisation as a ‘realist of a larger reality'? Non-subscribers will only hear an extract from this episode. To listen to the full episode, and all our other Close Readings series, subscribe: Directly in Apple Podcasts: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://lrb.me/applecrff⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ In other podcast apps: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://lrb.me/closereadingsff⁠⁠⁠⁠ Further reading and listening from the LRB: Colin Burrow on Ursula K. Le Guin: https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v43/n02/colin-burrow/it-s-not-jung-s-it-s-mine A collection of writing on science fiction from the LRB: https://www.lrb.co.uk/collections/in-hyperspace Amia Srinivasan on Le Guin's experiments with pronouns: https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v42/n13/amia-srinivasan/he-she-one-they-ho-hus-hum-ita Colin Burrow discusses Le Guin with Thomas Jones on the LRB Podcast: https://www.lrb.co.uk/podcasts-and-videos/podcasts/the-lrb-podcast/magical-authority Next episode: A taxonomy of fantastic literature with Marina, Adam Thirlwell and Edwin Frank.

652. Part 1 of Kathleen DuVal's return to the podcast to talk about her book, Native Nations: A Millennium in North America. “Pulitzer Prize Winner - National Bestseller - A magisterial overview of a thousand years of Native American history (The New York Review of Books), from the rise of ancient cities more than a thousand years ago to fights for sovereignty that continue today. Winner of the Bancroft Prize, the Cundill History Prize, and the Mark Lynton History Prize. Long before the colonization of North America, Indigenous Americans built diverse civilizations and adapted to a changing world in ways that reverberated globally. And, as award-winning historian Kathleen DuVal vividly recounts, when Europeans did arrive, no civilization came to a halt because of a few wandering explorers, even when the strangers came well armed.” (Publisher's website), Now available: Liberty in Louisiana: A Comedy. The oldest play about Louisiana, author James Workman wrote it as a celebration of the Louisiana Purchase. Now it is back in print for the first time in 221 years. Order your copy today! This week in the Louisiana Anthology. Chad Adams. How to Walk in the Marsh. I stood behind the center console of my dad's flatboat, tucked closely against him, prouder than any seven-year-old boy could be, riding along while he drove in the darkness of an early cold November morning. We slowly maneuvered through the salty marshes of southern Louisiana in eager pursuit of my very first duck hunt.     As the blistering air seeped through the holes in my oversized camouflaged ski-mask, and the smell of the sputtering motor's exhaust made my nostrils flare, I worked a spotlight at my dad's command. The beam of light shined just over the head of our giddy black Labrador Retriever, past the bow of the boat, and onto the water in front of us. I was outright shivering, but not from the freezing weather. Instead, I was shaking from the icy adrenaline that ran through my veins and throughout all fifty-five pounds of me as I replayed in my head all the stories my dad told me leading up to this moment about the amazing experience of duck hunting. This week in Louisiana history. November 15, 1730. Gov. Perier and French defeated the Natchez Indians. This week in New Orleans history. The Central City Branch of the New Orleans Public Library opened in the Mahalia Jackson Childhood and Family Learning Center on November 15, 2010. This week in Louisiana. Louisiana Renaissance Festival Faire Grounds: 46468 River Rd, Hammond LA, 70401 2025 Theme Weekends Nov 1-2 All Hallows Weekend Nov 8-9 Pirate Weekend Nov 15-16 Celtic Weekend Nov 22-23 Wizards and Legends Nov 28-30 Viking Dec 6-7 Yuletide Market Also on Dec 6 and 7  Fireworks 9:45 AM to 5:00 PM Postcards from Louisiana. Doreen at Snug Harbor.  Listen on Apple Podcasts. Listen on audible. Listen on Spotify. Listen on TuneIn. Listen on iHeartRadio. The Louisiana Anthology Home Page. Like us on Facebook. 

Percival Everett has made a career out of exploring the nature of absurdity. You may have become aware of Everett in the last few years when his novel “Erasure” was adapted into the movie “American Fiction” in 2023, or when his book “James” won the Pulitzer prize last year. But Everett has written 24 novels since 1983 along with several books of poetry and short story collections, each of them tackling a different genre of writing and a different angle on nonsense, absurdity or irony. As he says, “to accept the absurdity of a situation is to accept the humanness of it.” We talk to Percival Everett in front of an audience of students at McDaniel High School in Portland.