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Quaranteam - Dave In Dallas: Part 5 Celebration: Some happy moments to cling to. Based on a post by RonanJWilkerson, in 12 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. October 5th, 2020. Dave and Liv spent the morning getting lumber and gate hardware. Other changes would take much longer to plan, and would need professionals to implement, but today they were putting in a gate between the backyards to facilitate caring for the chickens. And give more play space for Esme and Roscoe. He'd made no move to threaten the chickens. It took over an hour to tear out the boards from the section that would be a gate by the end of the day. Dave worked from Lupie's yard, while Liv worked from Dave's. Both were being careful to preserve the boards that were still in good condition. Those could be reused. If not today, then for another project. As they each pulled boards from the fences, Dave gained a view of Liv as she worked. Granted, he'd seen her working in the yard, or building things before. But back then, she was the young girl he helped guide to adulthood. Now, she was the young beauty that shared his bed in addition to his life. And god was she beautiful. He'd only appreciated her looks in an esoteric sense previously. 'Why yes, Livy is a lovely young lady' in response to another's comment or question. Things had changed. Knowing she'd be fence-building today, Liv had worn a sturdy bra that could keep her; assets from flopping all over the place. But pulling nails and tugging boards loose still had them moving under her denim shirt like two quarreling kittens. Her ass filled the seat of her jeans just right too; not a bubble butt, just nicely curved. Thank God she wore work jeans and not skinny jeans. Dave had enough blood in the wrong place without her jeans clinging to the silhouette of her legs. Man had to get some work done. They'd removed the pickets, trimmed the rails and the kickboard when Dave heard the sliding door. "It's lunch time you two," Lupie called out. "Knock off for a bit. Come in and get a sandwich and a drink." Dave brushed most of the saw dust off as he walked to the house. He kissed Lupie when he got to the door. Lupie returned it, but when he moved to press himself against her, she shoved him away. "Not 'til you've had a shower mister," she demanded. He chuckled. "Yes, dear." She just laughed. Melanie joined them. Her footfalls stopped, briefly, right behind him. Lupie and Liv looked at each other with knowing looks, but he didn't ask them or Mel why. She did have a quick, quiet conversation with Liv and Lupie as Dave headed out to finish. It was a short conversation as Olivia was not far behind. The next few hours were more physically demanding than the morning as Dave and Olivia dug new postholes, mixed cement, then filled the holes and placed the posts. Even so, the hardest part was adjusting the guidelines keeping the posts vertical until the cement set. Constantly adjusting the lengths of each line until the level red true seemed to take more time than all the other work. Now they had to give the cement at least a day to set before hanging the gate. Dave and Olivia secured their tools and left the work area neat before heading in. As Dave pulled back the sliding glass door he was tackled by a mass of flesh that he could tell by feel was female. Well, the only other bodies in the house were ladies, so that helped too. She was also very excited. A flash of red hair as kisses rained on him helped him identify Melanie as his enthusiastic paramour. He had to back pedal a few steps to keep the two of them from falling to the deck. "Get a room, ya slut," Olivia laughed. Melanie finally came up for air. "I don't need a room. Just this hot, sweaty man." She planted her lips firmly on Dave's as her hands sought out the hem of his shirt. She yanked it over his head swiftly, barely pausing her lips in their quest for more Dave. "Seriously? We're doing this right here?" Dave inquired. Mel nodded as she got her hands on Dave's belt. "The Esme rule," Liv interjected. "This isn't the couch." Liv laughed and rolled her eyes. "Lawyers and coders, always looking for the loophole. I think Esme's in the library studying. I'll make sure she stays there for a bit." She pulled the curtain closed after the glass door. Mel slowed her kissing, and moved from Dave's face to his shoulders as she unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. She took care to kiss every curve of his modestly defined shoulder muscles. No, more like savored. Dave decided to start evening the score, and grabbed her t-shirt; one of his actually, with the logo "University of Mars"; and pulled it over her head. It made her pause and grin, but barely slowed her progressive kissing down his body and getting his jeans and boxers down to his knees. Mel immediately took him in her mouth, working him to full erection quickly before plunging her head up and down. Satisfied he was at maximum stiffness, she straddled him while pulling the gusset of her shorts and panties aside revealing her already wet slit, her labia flowering outward in readiness. Mel sank herself on to Dave in one motion, letting out a grunt as he filled her. She opened her eyes and lowered her torso to his, kissing fervently as she rocked her hips up and down and rubbing her tits along his chest. Both of them found this quite stimulating. Hands roamed, tongues tangled, lips meshed. They seemed to hit a plateau, until Dave rolled them over. He began thrusting long swift strokes, causing Melanie to moan and lift her legs upward in a 'v' shape. She clutched his back and lifted her pelvis. As his thrusting pace increased Mel's vocalization devolved into happy grunts. Her fingers rotated, digging her nails into him. "Oh! God Yes!" Melanie arched her back, finding her release. A few moments later, Dave cascaded over the cliff with her, triggering a second orgasm in her even as the first had barely descended its peak. Dave held still and Mel clung to him as she shook. He nuzzled the side of her face with his cheek. When her breathing slowed, she grabbed his head and pulled him into a fiery kiss. Mel had an enormous grin as the two separated and began fixing their clothes. October 6, 2020. "Why are you cooking dinner, Dave? I thought it was Mel's night." "She is making the house dinner conejita, but I am taking your mother on a date today. We'll probably be gone through dinner." Esme made a face. "Ew, gross. So you two will be feeding each other little bites and doing other cutesy stuff?" "Probably," Dave chuckled. He scooped out a small portion on the tip of a spoon and held it out for her. Esme gamely took a bite. She swallowed but made a face. "Ew, what was that? Something popped and was bitter, or pickle-y." "Capers. I like 'em. I think your mom might too. I get it if you're not a fan." "Not. Most definitely not." Esme watched as Dave packed the container into a bag with sliced bread, several water bottles, a container of homemade whipped cream, and a box of strawberries from the greenhouse. As Dave stood, re-evaluating his packing, Esme spoke again. "It's not like I don't know what's going on around here. Ya'll get kinda loud sometimes. I know, I know 'I'm too young to talk about these things', but seriously it's a basic part of life as an adult right?" "I won't go sticking my nose in," she continued, "and yeah, I don't want to see it going on, but you don't have to walk on eggshells around me." "Oh, seriously though? We should get more candles or something, 'cuz something about that gets kinda funky afterwards. I've gone into the master bedroom to talk to mom a few times and, Wow dude. I can tell which mornings you get lucky. Or they do." "The way y'all act it's like you're both sure you got more out of it than the other, or more than you deserve or something. At least you're all happy. All though, yeah, sometimes if too many of you are walking around dreamy faced it gets kinda suspense film creepy." "Seriously though? I'm really happy for mom. And Becca. Mom's been lonely for a long time, and Becca spent about half the year looking like her heart had been ripped out. They are way better now than they were. I haven't seen mom this happy in; ever. And Becca is as bouncy happy as she's ever been. So yeah, whatever weird stuff is happening, is fine with me. I'd rather not see it though. Or hear it. Or smell it." After laying out the blanket for the two of them, the first thing Dave pulled out of the basket was an MP3 player. "You could have just used your phone, papi. Why go old school?" "Because this has more memory than my phone mi luz." Lupie chuckled lightly. "Your pronunciation is all wrong." She stepped in closer, their faces inches apart. "But your delivery is all right." They kissed softly, holding each other loosely. The romantic appetizer lasted a minute or so before they settled down to the blanket. Lupie smirked, one eyebrow cocked as Dave adjusted the position of the music player. "Well, it's not like I brought out a Walkman." "Don't you mean a Discman?" "Discman came a decade later. The Walkman was in the eighties, and it used cassettes." "Old man," Lupie smirked. "So I shouldn't tell you about my parents' blue panel van with an eight track player back in the seventies?" Lupie laughed. "Sometimes it's hard to remember you really are that much older than me. But when I do, it's a good thing. I have an appreciation for age and wisdom." She leaned in to plant a warm, lingering kiss on his lips. Dave rolled his eyes. "On a date with a thirty two year old and I'm still robbing the cradle." "Umm, you can rock this cradle all day long, papi," she purred. They bantered for a bit as Dave put together the chicken salad sandwiches, and grew quiet as they ate. Lupie did appreciate the capers, and the celery seed. As they were feeding strawberries to each other (after dipping them into some whipped cream lightly laced with rum) 'Brown-Eyed Girl' came on; the Jimmy Buffett version with steel drums. Dave swayed with the rhythm as he offered a strawberry to Lupie. As it got to the later lyric '; making love in the green grass, behind the stadium with you, my brown-eyed girl; ' Dave wiggled his eyebrows. Lupie giggled at first, then realized he wasn't just being silly. "David, no! Out here, where anyone can see us?!" "Loops, there's a row of tall bushes between us and the path. If someone is out getting some exercise, they'll never know we're here." "You have a way of making me loud, mi amor," Lupie beamed. "Then we'll take it nice and slow, darling," Dave said as he buzzed his lips next to her ear. He took a firm hold of her tit, massaging it just how she liked. Lupie sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. They made out like teenagers before shucking his pants and boxers. Lupie surprised him with the revelation she hadn't worn any panties. She blushed at her own daring. Then they made love. Long, slow, passionate joining of two hearts giving and taking in unison. The sun had set long before they left. The temperature dropped with the sun, but holding each other close and making their own heat, they never noticed. October 8, 2020. Dave was in his office, wrestling with code for his game when Becca came in, with Kareena. He'd left the game on hiatus for a while, with bigger issues to deal with, and a suspicion that an erotic harem post-apocalyptic game may not be interesting any more, between the actual apocalypse happening and the 'addictive sperm' serum now running through women's veins. But, he had started the project, he wanted to finish. "Hey Dave, looks who's here!" Becca announced. Dave looked up and was immediately confused. "Are they waiting for me to come down and sign?" "Oh, no, they said since I was one of your partners, I could sign." "Hello Dave." Kareena's entangled fingers wouldn't stop moving. Her shoulders were rounded, pulled inward and down. Her feet shifted. Her deep brown eyes wouldn't rise above his knees. Dave motioned her to a chair. "You seem worried. Are you sure you want to do this?" "Yes." Her eyes flicked up to his for just a moment, before dropping again. "It's just different from what I'm used to, what I expected for my life for several years. But I want a change. And I was relieved when the match system said we were eighty three percent compatible. I was worried it would be a lot less." Dave motioned for her to take a seat. "So, how are you feeling?" Reena blushed at the implication. "I'm okay. Not antsy like they said would happen, but it hasn't been too terribly long just yet. I mean, I could right now if you want to." She rushed the last sentence out. "It's okay. This is a big step in life, bigger than society made it out to be in the past couple decades." Dave paused for a minute. He caught Becca's eye then cocked his head towards the door. She took the hint and left, pulling the door shut. "It's just the two of us now, face to face, with no one listening. Is there anything you want to say or ask?" Kareena looked at him, looked away, and back. "I don't want to be everybody's salon girl." Dave blinked and nodded his head. While he was waiting for her to continue, he took the time to notice her attire. It hadn't been his instinct in the past, not anything beyond 'That looks nice' in a sincere tone. He'd begun to learn that what a woman was wearing may be a clue to her general intent in a conversation. If in fact, she had dressed for him, and not some other purpose. In this case, it wasn't egotistical to believe Reena had dressed for him. Her orange half shirt played counterpoint to her lovely brown skin balanced between milk chocolate and sienna. Her tits stretched the top to pull ripples into the fabric. below her shirt, her smooth, flat, tummy bore no adornment. Neither did her lovely oval navel. Her jeans rode low on her hips, and were so tight they may well have been painted on. "I know I said I was good with that stuff, and I kinda am, at like, an amateur level, but I don't want to do that all the time. Like, just as a hobby, if something special is happening." She started tearing up as she talked. Dave reached out, taking her hand in his, gently. A gazed at her face until she met his eyes. "I didn't bring you here to do nails and hair a such. I brought you here because as a family, we agreed you would be a welcome addition. We all realize you are young, and still figuring out where you want to fit in the world. We did not expect you to fill in any particular house duty." He brushed a loose lock of raven black hair behind her ear, and received a smile. "When colleges re-open, take a few classes, see what interests you; " "My dad said since I wasn't going to accept an offer from the guy he wanted me to pair with, he was cutting me off. I don't think I'll be taking classes until after I can get a job to build up tuition money." Dave chuckled. "Family sticks together, Kareena. Jan and I both work for the community college, which can get you a tuition discount. Given that they've already forgiven all student loan debt, the government is probably going to fund all tuition, or most of it, going forward. And, well, there are four adults in this household with established careers and we've all been fairly careful with our money. You want college, you can get college." Reena relaxed a bit, but not entirely. "Also, there is a spread of skillsets among us. Sit and talk with each of us. Shadow us while we do our jobs. Get to know our fields of expertise. Well, the remote part anyway. Probably going to be awhile before you can actually go to our places of work, even once we can go back. Odds are, something will sound interesting, if not our exact jobs, something related. Worst case scenario, you learn a lot of what you don't want to do and get to know us more than you might want to." Reena giggled. It made Dave feel better, knowing he could rouse her out of her anxiety. He kept his eyes on her, smiling. Reena shifted in her chair and adjusted her leg position. "Dave?" "Yes?" "I think I'm ready now." Dave blinked for a moment. Two and a half weeks living in the new serum-world and it still took him a bit to register what she meant. "Oh. Um, are you sure?" She nodded. Her breathing was deeper than when she'd come in. Dave stood and reached a hand to her. She lifted her hand to his and stood. Reena followed Dave to the bedroom and stood, still and uncertain, as he closed the door. Turning from the door, he noticed her shaking. "Reena, this is only going to work if it's something you want to do." Panic washed over her face. "I want to, I do. I'm just a little scared." She licked her lips and tried to steady her breathing. "It's just; I, uh; well, Becca talked about how you, uh; do; things. It's never been like that before. I mean, both boyfriends that I've; been with; just kinda; did their thing and got off." Dave approached her. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. "I'm not the greatest lover, so I hope Becca didn't put me on too high a pedestal. I do take the time to pay attention to a woman's needs. That said, this first time, you're only going to get there when the first bit of my fluid hits you, and then again when I pop. I could be the greatest lover in the world, and nothing will get you to climax other than those two events the first time." Reena smiled warmly and laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso. "I came here for the long term Dave. The short term is less important." After gathering her thoughts, she continued. "Just show me I matter to you, that's all I ask." Dave stroked his hand through her long, dark hair. He kissed the crown of Reena's head and ran his hands gently down her arms. He pulled her closer by the waist and she raised her head. Their lips met and each let their hands roam across the others' body. Kareena moaned into the kiss. Dave took that as encouragement and allowed his hands to rise to caress the sides of her luscious, sizable tits over top her shirt. She shuddered and pressed herself to him. Dave picked Reena up gently and seated her on the edge of the bed before joining her. He kissed her neck and nibbled her collarbone. Dave slipped his fingers under her top and lifted slowly, pulling his face back to allow her half shirt to pass. He dropped his face to kiss the upper slopes of her tits as his hands sought out the bra clasp in the back. He briefly recalled the mistake with Shawna, just as he found the interfering component. It yielded quickly to his touch and Reena shrugged off the straps, allowing the bra to slide to her legs and fall to the floor. Dave pulled his face back to admire the view. Even at what must be a D or E cup, her tits stood out proudly with the perkiness of youth. He locked eyes with her and latched her lips with a hungry kiss. Reena groaned with a hunger that matched his own. He placed his hands beside her tits, thumbs stroking the underside of the soft orbs enflaming his desire. Reena's breathing sped up with his caresses. She gasped as he took one dark brown nipple and areola in his mouth and suckled. "Oh, David; oh God, that feels good." She whimpered as he released her aroused nub, then hummed passionately as he engaged her mouth again with his own. As their tongues danced, he lowered her torso to the bed, her defiant bust yielding only slightly to the insistence of gravity as each hung off to the sides. Dave kissed down her cleavage and nipped and kissed about her abdomen before bringing his mouth to rest just above the button of her jeans. He looked up her body, between her tits. Only when she lifted her head to return his gaze did he unbutton her jeans and peel them back slightly as he began kissing the small exposed area of her pelvis. He half stood, still dallying his lips on her taut flesh as he moved himself around her knee to settle between her legs. He peeled her jeans down to her knees before pulling upwards, lifting her legs in the air and stripping her jeans off. He stood, bring the jeans clear of her feet, then caught her legs against his chest. If the look in her eyes and her rapid, deep breathing hadn't been enough to confirm her arousal, the warm, musky scent of her sex screamed it loudly. It was heady, rich, and inviting. He parted her elevated legs and slowly knelt, his eyes on hers, a lecherous smile on his face as he lowered it towards the lace panties covering her throbbing center. The black tracery woven through the garment gave accent to the richness of the red base. His face only inches from her sex, he paused, inhaling the scent of her, reveling in her arousal. He kissed her over top her tanga-style panties, applying just enough pressure to transmit the sensation from his lips to hers. Reena groaned, her hands reaching for his head. Dave looped his fingers through the sides of her panties and pulled them towards him, then up. She bent her legs at the knees to ease their removal and she hissed her assent. Understanding the actions of the serum now, better than he had previously, Dave took her engorged labia into his mouth, suckling at them as he probed her slit with his tongue. Reena cried out, arching her back, yearning for release. Satisfied she was as aroused and ready as the serum would allow, Dave half rose, keeping her knees on his shoulders and lifted her up the bed as he crawled on to it. With a firm purchase on the bed, He kissed her again and worked his hips to align his shaft with her entrance. With his tip lodged just inside her opening, she nodded to him, urgently. Dave steadily edged himself into her, her passage relaxed and accepting him. The warm moist tunnel held him firmly, stretching to accommodate his girth as he penetrated her fully. His tip pressed against the very top of her tunnel as his pelvis made contact with her clitoris. Dave began with a slow, gentle grinding action. Reena held his arms as he worked himself in her. Her breath suddenly caught before she howled and shook. Dave knew he must have leaked out the first bit of precum, triggering her priming orgasm. He held still while the ecstasy rebounded through her. It took her well over a minute to recover. She clasped her hands behind Dave's neck and kissed him fiercely as her legs locked behind the small of his back. "I'm yours now, forever. Work that thing in me and finish your claim." Her eyes were hungry, certain, and unyielding. With a smile, and his eyes locked on her, Dave worked his hips back and forth, plunging in and out of her. Reena grunted with each impact of his pelvis against hers, a look of joy on her face, her breathing growing ragged. Dave accelerated his motion as he felt himself building to the eruption they both needed. The yearning in Reena's eyes exhorted him onward until he felt the familiar tingle and let loose inside of her. Immediately, all of Reena's muscles contracted, seizing and spasming. Dave held still, embedded in her depths as he pulsed more and more of his essence into her. He held himself still as she writhed, giving some anchor to her flailing until she crumbled to the bed beneath him. "Imprinting; imprinting; imprinting;” October 13, 2020. Dave sat in the station chair, in cloth shorts only, working through a third set of butterflies. He actually preferred free weights, but he wanted to push himself hard today without bugging someone to spot him. He'd been cycling curls, chest presses, and butterflies. Though he went to free weights for the curls. Melanie came in as he was straining to get out the tenth rep. The slightly amused face she wore added into something else entirely as she spotted him bare but for a pair of shorts, glistening in sweat from forty minutes of strength training. Her breathing deepened, which drew Dave's eyes to her chest. He faltered, kept straining, but couldn't quite finish the rep. "Uh; um;” She shook her head and gathered her thoughts. "So, I caught our two youngest ladies messing around in your office. They're in the living room now. I think you should come talk." The smirk returned, though her eyes kept lingering on his sweaty abdomen. Dave was sure she was slipping a little extra sway in her hips as she walked ahead of him to the living room. He quickly checked his phone on the way, noting several texts, all from family members. Most of his family had denied the virus was real or that masks or lockdowns worked, so most of them were 'not responding' on social media. The few that remained had posted mournful bits on social media, still not acknowledging reality. Since he'd pointed out the absurdity of their positions before people started dying, he was now dead to them. Not really something that affected him much actually, since they lived three states away and never thought much of him in the first place. But why the fuck; ok, wow, yet a new level of hate texts? And why all of them, all of a sudden? Becca and Reena sat on opposite sides of the couch. Reena's eyes were downcast. She appeared to be on the verge of crying. Becca's lips were pressed into a flatline, her eyes not meeting Dave's. Dave cleared his throat. Becca looked briefly at him, then quickly away. Reena let out a small whimper and kept her eyes on the floor. "So y'all want to tell me what happened?" Becca finally met his gaze. "We were only trying to help." "Oh good, so many wonderful things have followed that statement." Dave took a seat between them and pulled them close. "How about dropping the preamble and just getting it out." "I broke into your computer and we used your Facebook profile to contact two women that show up in your feed a lot. We were going to contact a few others when Mel walked in. It took a while because we were trying to say something unique to each one." Becca monotoned. Then she perked up "we just thought since you requested some of us, you could request other women you already knew." If I blow my top, I'll not only hurt Becca whom I most definitely love but cause super skittish Reena to withdraw completely. The girl's trying to find herself a new place in life. Unless she's clearly reverting to past behavior I have got to treat her with kid gloves. Dave suddenly made a connection in his head. "Who were the two women you propositioned in my name?" "Janine Farkel and Mary Pharns" Dave's head lolled back as he chuckled. "Well, that would explain the texts I just red. Every woman on my mother's side still alive are royally pissed at me. None bothered to explain why, but went to great lengths delineating what an utter worthless beast I am." Becca looked at him confused. Reena did as well, though she was ready to start bawling again. He took a deep breath. "Janine Farkel is my cousin. Her mom and my mom are sisters." Becca rolled her eyes at their mistake. Reena looked like she wanted to bury her head in his shoulder, but wasn't sure she was allowed. "To be fair, I did think she was awfully cute when we were kids. But once I realized what romance was focused around, I was instantly aware that wasn't something you do with your cousin." That got Becca to give a small snort. Reena's frown almost became a grin. "Mary Pharns is Janine's niece, her older brother's daughter, making her my second cousin." Both girls groaned. "You know what you did wrong?" God, he shouldn't be talking like this with a sexual partner, yet the situation called for it. "I should have checked relationships before sending out a message?" Becca asked softly. Dave looked at her stonily. "You should not have used my social media profile without my permission. You should not have acted in my name, without consulting me first. You acted because you had the skills. Just because you can do a thing, it does not necessarily follow that you must do that thing." "Did you just use Star Trek 6 as a rebuke?" Becca said with narrowed eyes and mouth. "If the shoe fits, wear it." She rolled her eyes. Dave looked to Reena, on his other side. He bent his head down to hers, lifting her chin with the hand around her shoulder. Their lips met and he kissed her sweetly. They held the kiss, lips moving, but only that, for nearly a minute. When they broke, Reena batted her eyes and blushed. "Well, it's not a boring life." Dave observed. Both girls barked out a laugh and snuggled into him. "So Dave, um," Reena temporized, "is there anything we could do to; make it up to you?" Becca jumped in. "We've been talking about, maybe you know, both of us?" Dave's eyebrows rose. "Like maybe, you could; um; fill one of us up; and then the other one; uh; licks it out while you; uh; do it in her. So, there's this line of you and then both of us." "I'm willing to be the in-between one," Reena interjected. Becca's eyes betrayed her surprise. "That would be amazing. But only if you want to, and not as punishment. I don't want anything sexual to be punishment." Reena popped her head up. "Not actual punishment. Roleplay and BDSM are different. That's for mutual pleasure, with agreed upon boundaries." Reena relaxed against him again, nodding her head lightly. "I'll put out a message to my family members about what happened, including a tightly worded appreciation of the faith in me they displayed with their responses. After a few more days of bitching, that should keep them off my back for a good six months while they go back to savaging each other. Or whoever they've collectively deemed as 'other'." Dinner in the Belsus household had been moved back to accommodate Shawna's frequent shifts on the 5pm and 6pm broadcasts. Today, however, she'd taken the early morning duty and arrived home shortly after five. She found Dave in his office, staring at another set of lab instructions for the online physics offering he'd been instructed to develop. One month out from spring semester registration, he was supposed to have already submitted a final number for the course fee needed to cover any kits or supplies the school would require to accompany the course. "Dave?" He brought his head up and smiled when he saw her. "Hey Shawna. How long have you been standing there?" "Less than a minute." Her broad smile that fully engulfed her eyes pulled his brain out of its work fog. He saved his work and logged out. "We have about two hours before dinner's ready. What would you like to do?" "I could use a massage, if you're up for it." "Sure." Shawna took his hand and led him to an unused bedroom that had been converted to an alternate TV and game room. Not entirely unused. Shawna's work clothes were in the closet so she could dress before work without disturbing anyone in the master bedroom. On walking in, she picked up the remote and flipped through menus. "It's a shame they don't have Babylon 5 or original Galactica on streaming. How 'bout some TNG?" Dave nodded. Shawna setup an episode, then settled on the floor, placing herself between Dave's legs as he sat on the bed. Dave slipped his hands to her neck and began working his thumbs in the crease there. His fingers held the sides of her neck, mostly giving a base for the thumbs, but doing small motions on the flesh they contacted. Shawna let her head droop slightly. "Umm, I love feeling your hands on me, baby." She turned her head so she could see him out the corner of her eye. "Once you've got my neck nice and loose, feel free to; roam a bit." The lusty grin those words slipped out of punctuated her meaning. Dave chuckled and gave her a kiss on her cheek before she dropped her head loose again. Within the first minute, Dave could feel the tension in her and went to work helping her relax. He thoroughly massaged her scalp, taking care not to mess with her hairstyle. He massaged her forehead, then around her ears and jaw before descending to her neck. Once that was feeling loose, he moved down to her shoulders. He worked her upper back as well, working out the physical manifestations of the stresses she may or may not share later. She was already running the entire meteorology department for the station. The official promotion had not yet come through, but she was the one that all the folks in the department looked to for direction. She was the one the higher ups passed their instructions through. Every day had at least some stress. He rolled her neck in his hands, feeling the looseness that hadn't been there when he'd started. Satisfied the primary task was accomplished, he allowed his fingers to stretch down from her shoulders, caressing her front progressively lower from her collarbone. "Umm. uh-hmm." Dave slipped his hands under her silky blouse and directly stimulated the flesh just above the upper slopes of Shawna's tits. He carefully sought out a path that took his fingers down the sides of her tits, cupping them as he massaged them. Shawna sucked in a breath before saying "Oh, yes baby. God I love these hands." With his hands inside her shirt and bra, Dave deftly stroked her tits and nipples Until she stood and began stripping her clothes off. He matched her actions and the two fell to the bed naked, their hearts pounding. Shawna landed on top, but quickly rolled to put him above her. Taking his cue, Dave got his knees between her legs and made the connection they both sought. Excited as she was, he slipped himself in easily. They lost the need for words as he pumped in and out of her. Both roamed their hands and lips across the other, but the primary need was the stimulation below as she bucked her hips up to him and he thrust into her offered portal. The long, slow, burn of the massage had them both well on their way before they entangled themselves. Shawna lit off first, shuddering and moaning as they kissed, her body convulsing in the throes of a 'normal' orgasm. The actions of her inner muscles on his cock pushed Dave the last bit of his peak and he let loose within her, triggering a serum-induced orgasm even as her body was beginning to come down from the natural orgasm. They held each other close, panting, for several minutes. Another few minutes were spent kissing, until the unmistakable sounds of a dinner nearly ready intruded their thoughts. They dressed carefully, unrushed, but ready to move on to the next part of the evening. They descended the stairs holding hands and crossed the living room into the dining room. Esme passed them as they took seats, a bowl in her hands as she helped lay out dishes for the meal. Passing behind Shawna, Esme gave an audible, obvious sniff, then looked at Dave and shook her head. Chapter 7; Celebration. October 16, 2020. Dave's heart was handling the exertion just fine, only slightly elevated beyond his usual while doing this. His breathing was ragged though. He was having trouble finding his rhythm. And his legs felt like rubber. "Come on, Dave," Olivia said over her shoulder, "You can do better than this. Tell ya what, you beat me back to the house and I'll give you my ass tonight." She blew a kiss over her shoulder, then kicked hard. Roscoe let out a bark that was both happy and plaintive, then loped faster to keep pace. They were about a quarter mile from the house, nearing the end of their three mile run. Dave frequently ran five miles in a morning, but he'd slacked off gradually as his living situation changed. Last week he hadn't run at all. Having a woman's warm body snuggled up against him just made it that much harder to get out of bed and run. Multiple bodies pressed against him, each with its own unique, warm, fleshy wonder, made getting out of bed nearly impossible. Dave kicked out after Livy. He gained on her at first, but the view of her firm, muscular ass was just amazing. Dave decided it was worth it to keep the view and let her win. Anal would be fun to try, but they had their whole lives together. This view, now, this morning, gave him the satisfaction he was looking for. At the entrance to the driveway, they slowed to a walk. Arms over their heads, they walked circles in the driveway and yard. Roscoe, tongue out, huge canine grin, circled about them. Occasionally, he bumped his head against a thigh and got a pat on the head for his efforts. "For taking a week off, you didn't lose much ability. You let me win that." "Well, to be fair, watching your ass in those leggings is a reward all it's own." Dave took her in his arms and kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and softly on the lips. He could feel her smile into the kiss. When he pulled back and her eyes reopened, he saw a lingering uncertainty in them. "This still has an undercurrent of weird, but a whole lot of wonderful. I sometimes get paranoid your dad's going to come around the corner and catch me kissing you." Olivia smacked his chest, then buried her face in it with a giggle. "I'm also amazed that I have this beautiful, intelligent, loving young woman in my life that has admired me for many years. A young woman I watched grow up, becoming one of the finest human beings I've ever had the privilege to know. And she chose me to live her life with." Olivia's hug on Dave squeezed tighter. She had her dream. Everything she ever wanted was right here. Then Dave's stomach rumbled. "Guess I better get my butt in the kitchen and feed my man." Dave rolled his eyes. "Sure," he said, with a pat on her ass as she turned towards the door, "get in that kitchen and cook my food woman." Olivia's only response was to wiggle her ass. Halfway to the door, she turned her head over her shoulder and stuck out her tongue, through a great big grin. She shrieked and ran, giggling, when Dave started to run towards her. The first order of business was to let Roscoe into the backyard, where he lapped water from his bowl before plopping onto the deck. Once in the kitchen, Dave snatched a bowl from the cupboard while Olivia pulled the egg carton from the fridge. Lupie's chickens did a fine job keeping up with the needs of Dave, Lupie, Becca, and Esme. Add Janice, Shawna, Olivia, and Melanie to the mix, and those chickens made a nice supplement, but would never keep up on their own. When Dave reached for the carton, Liv slapped his hand lightly. "I told you, I'm making breakfast for you. Take a seat." "Maybe I should just go take my shower now, and come down to a hot breakfast made by my hot babe." She threw an appreciative grin over her shoulder. "Maybe you should go find the sweat slut and give her what she wants." "She does like it without being sweaty too ya know." "Are you talking about Melanie?" came Janice's voice from the dining room entry. Soft and melodic, Dave would never get enough of those carefully crafted tones. "Gee, how'd you guess?" Dave gave her a gentle kiss in greeting. Janice hummed in the kiss, but kept their bodies separated. "I'm kinda in between Mel and Lupie here on this one. It's not my kink, and don't want to be pressed against you when you're all sweaty, but I'm not shoving you away when you look all manly and accomplished." Jan blushed lightly at the end of her statement. She let go of Dave to move to Liv's side at the counter. She watched Olivia crack the eggs one handed, then split the shell, still using one hand only, over the bowl to drain the egg out. "Hey, that's just how Dave taught me to do it." Olivia looked at her with a smile and a raised eyebrow. That caused Jan to laugh. "Okay, okay, for me it was just a few weeks ago. I take it you were, what, fourteen?" "Eight. Eight years old, standing on a step stool with one of the two greatest guys in the world standing beside me." Olivia said wistfully. Jan gave her a quick shoulder hug. "Can I do anything to help?" "Sure. I'm just going to scramble these with some seasoning. Maybe some toast or fruit? A little late to start bacon." Jan, with her head in the fridge called out, "We've got a package of pre-cooked breakfast sausage. Just need to be heated through." "Sounds good." "Hey Jan?" Dave asked. "While you're in there, can you grab me an apple or a pear?" Dave easily caught the pear she tossed his way and began eating it after polishing it on a dry spot on his shirt. "I can't seem to stop eating lately. I'm surprised I didn't gain weight the last few weeks. Eating more than usual, and little to no exercise." Tossing a lid on the skillet to keep the steam inside, Jan turned to Dave. "Little to no exercise? Dave, you have energetic sex at least twice a day, with three or four blowjobs or quickies as well. If you're denying your hunger and not eating, that would explain the; what, five pounds you lost?" "Hmm, hadn't weighed myself in a while. Too afraid the scale would just scream 'Get off me fatso!'" Olivia snorted, but immediately gave him a scowl that matched Jan's. "Dave," Jan said, "you are far from overweight. If you keep over restricting yourself by not accounting for your activity, you're going to hurt yourself, and us by extension. You should stash snacks in your office, so you can have something as soon as you get hungry." She paused for a moment. "Maybe we should get a small fridge for your office, to hold some snacks that would be better cold, or water bottles. You like your fruit and water cold." Just then, Dave's phone chimed the tone he'd set for texts from the ladies of the house. Looking down and unlocking, he saw it was from Shawna. Shawna Posted; It's official! I got the promotion! WFAA Chief Meteorologist Shawna Coulter! That's great! I'm proud of you! You put in a lot of work to get here, babe! Shawna Posted; a heart emoji. They even did a video call with Troy! He still wears those wonderfully dorky bowties! He congratulated me, said he's been watching, and he's proud I'm holding the department to a high standard of science and reporting! Then she posted a star-eyed emoji, smiling face with tear emoji You earned every bit of those accolades. Shawna Posted; face blowing a kiss emoji, It's just, oh my God, he's a legend around here, and well-regarded in the weather community! And then he's on a Zoom call, telling me I'm doing the station and profession proud! I remember watching him as a kid, hun. I can imagine the impact. You put years of work into this. Enjoy the fruits of victory, my love. Dave froze. The first time he'd used the 'L' word with Shawna, and it was by text! Dammit! In the silent minutes of self-recrimination, his phone chimed again. Shawna Posted; I love you too, David. "What's with the dopey-lovey grin, Dave?" Olivia's voice brought him back to the dining room as she sat a platter of scrambled eggs on a wooden trivet and centered it on the table. Jan came in and did likewise for a platter of sausage. "Shawna got the official promotion to Chief Meteorologist." "Hey, that's great!" Jan said, with Lupie chiming in as she entered with Esme. Mel came in a few steps behind. "Mel," Liv said, "could you grab the fruit tray and toast?" Mel nodded her agreement. Lupie shooed Esme to go help. "We should do something to celebrate Shawna's promotion." Lupie said. Heads nodded around the table. "She's got the six o'clock duty tonight, and they'll probably do some kind of cake thing there, so I wouldn't expect her home until after dinner." Jan supplied. "Tomorrow, she's going in for a few hours to give guidance and get some admin work done. No on-air duties though. She said she'd be home by two, maybe three at the latest. Oh, and she's not going in until ten at the earliest. She swore she was getting to sleep in." "How about a picnic in the park?" Melanie suggested. "The way she gets nostalgic talking about the smell of grass or the air from her storm chasing days, maybe she'd like that." "Hopefully sans storm," Liv said dryly. Mel stuck her tongue out in reply, then both giggled. "So, an early dinner tomorrow, after Shawna gets home. Let's figure out a menu and divide up duties." Lupie guided the ensuing short discussion. She tried to dissuade Dave from making a dish, again cajoling him that he should let them take care of such things. Dave pointed out that he enjoys cooking and seeing people enjoy his efforts. Shawna had shown an interest in his tomato-cucumber salad, and they did just pull in a fresh harvest of both. Then he got a little dirty. Would Lupie deny Shawna a dish she loved from someone she cared for on her celebration day? Okay, that was a little not cool, but he wanted to make something dammit. Lupie's look was by turns hurt and chagrined. "I'm sorry Lupie, that was over the line." Dave stood and walked to her chair. He took her hand and kissed it. "Please, I love to cook, and I feel like I'm getting shut out here. I love what you and the others cook too. And I understand your position about my role, leading the family. But please, step back once in a while and let me make a dish." Lupie got a saucy look in her eye. With a smile and a wink, she said, "Very well, you may work in my kitchen." Dave rolled his eyes, but as she stood to begin clearing the table, he swatted her butt, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Eep!" She turned and buried her face in his chest. As she turned, he could see her face was as red as the tomatoes he'd use tomorrow. Just then, Becca and Reena stumbled in, bleary eyed and messy haired. They'd been working on some project and stayed up late, sleeping in a different bedroom. "Why don't you let Heckle and Jeckle here get their breakfast, and then let them clean up?" Lupie screwed up her face, ready to object, but both teens nodded their assent, Becca holding out a thumbs up as she flopped into a chair. Then Lupie mentioned Shawna's promotion and the planned party for tomorrow. Both girls livened up, huge grins on their faces. They leaned towards each other, speaking in quick whispers before pulling back and high-fiving. Whatever was going on had them completely awake with broad grins. "You girls care to share?" I asked. "Not yet, it's a surprise. A good one this time, promise." Becca flushed with remembered embarrassment from the 'hook Dave up' fiasco. Reena blushed as well, nodding agreement. Jan lay under Dave on the bed, her legs wrapped around his waist. Since he was already sweaty, she thought she'd give it a try. Might as well, right? Try different ways? As Dave pumped in and out of her, he paused between kisses to study her face. "You are not feeling it are you?" "You, yes. The sweat, no. Sorry, David." Dave stopped his motions, beginning to pull out. "No, no, please. Finish in me. Then we can take a shower together, and maybe; my turn in the tub?" Dave was still working his way through individual dates with each lady, but they had added a twist. Each wanted a soak in the large, sea-shell shaped garden tub in the master bath. To make it special (they argued getting tub time with him made it special) he'd managed to personalize the experience with different settings. Lupie loved lavender, so he arranged lavender bath scents, two candles on the vanity, and four candles around the tub. Every time before, when Dave was near lavender, his eyes, nose, and mouth got itchy, so he took a dose of his strongest allergy meds (over the counter, but behind the pharmacy desk) half an hour before the bath time. It; didn't work. He didn't sneeze or have too much sinus irritation. But Lupie's time luxuriating as she leaned against him in the bath was cut short when she noticed red bumps all over his arms as they wrapped loosely around her. She was furious with Dave as she pushed him into the shower stall to wash off the offending aromatics. She pulled the plug on the bathtub and kicked on the fan before joining him. He was grateful when the steamy air got into his lungs. When Dave pledged to try again, Lupie pointedly suggested almond and vanilla. After that, all the ladies insisted on knowing what gave him allergic reactions. As far as scents go, they were relieved the only remaining problematic scents were eucalyptus and any form of mint. Mel was slightly bummed about the mint, but wasn't that attached to it. "The feeling of Dave going down on me vastly outweighs the pleasantness of a mint-scented bath." So after Dave finished, and a few minutes of snuggling, he got up to shower quickly. Adjusting the tub faucet to Janice's preferred temperature, he left it running. Then he pulled the special items for Janice from the one locked closet in the bathroom. The one he stashed all the special prep stuff for the ladies. Yes, they'd picked scents and lighting, but that's no reason to give away all the details. With the tub about half full, he drizzled a small, short stream of rose oil into the water with a slight sideways motion to help start the mixing process. The tub's curvature and the current due to the filling should do the rest. Next, he killed the lights. Jan wanted natural lighting, which is why they were doing this in the daytime. There was a large window that let light into the master bath. No one could see in from that direction, into an upstairs window anyway, so it was safe, even before the pandemic. As the tub neared full, Dave cut the water and sprinkled rose petals on the surface, around the tub margins, and then some on the floor. With his back to the door, he surveyed the scene to make sure it was right. Satisfied, he placed the partial bag of petals in the closet and locked it again. Then he stepped back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He led Jan from the bed to the bathroom door and had her cover her eyes with her hands before opening the door. Jan walked slowly into the bathroom, marveling at the setup. As Dave joined her, she wrapped him in her arms and delivered a warm, passionate kiss. Then they climbed into the tub, Janice lying back against Dave's chest, as the two enjoyed the closeness without any overtly sexual play. It was a good morning. "Why do you smell like roses?" Reena asked as she lay curled into Dave's side on the laid-out recliner. "Because I gave Jan her couples tub time earlier and she likes a rose-scented bath." "So you're really working your way through romancing each of us personally?" "There's no other way. You are each unique. Different desires, different needs. I'll do my best to give you what makes you feel happy and accepted." "This is pretty good right here." The teen gave him a soft kiss. "I like Jan. She has good taste in bath scents. And men." Dave chuckled, giving her a soft squeeze in appreciation. They were in the living room, though no music or shows were playing. Just a quiet snuggle. Kareena wore cloth shorts and one of Dave's nerd shirts. This one looked like a computer's BSOD. Melanie cringed when she saw it on her way out the door earlier. Reena must have been wearing a bra, since her large tits were somewhat contained and her nipples were not poking through. Given her past behavior it was a 50/50 toss up whether she was wearing any kind of panties, but there was no outward indication either way, and this wasn't the kind of snuggle to facilitate an exploration to find out. "So I've been talking with Becca and Jan, and the others. I think I'd like to take some classes in the Spring?" "Why are you asking that like a question?" "I wanted to make sure you're okay with it." "Reena, we are partnered. We will spend the rest of our lives together, and eventually have kids together. I don't own you." Dave looked her straight in the eye for this part. "Sure, there are somethings you could choose to do that will impact all of us and therefore require some prior notice or approval. What schooling you pursue is not in that category. Now, if you're looking for advice, I'm here for you. It sounds to me like you've already gotten some from the others. And I happen to think highly of their opinions, so you should be good to go." Dave got a full kiss on the lips for that, with only a little tongue. "I'm going to go undeclared and just take some basic classes. Becca and I plan on taking composition and speech together. Not math or science. She really helped me through high school, but I'm not at her level and I don't want to hold her back. As soon as we can, I'll take the placement tests and hope I get into college math instead of remedial." Her face fell at the prospect of starting below college level. "Becca will probably get into precal or calc right from the start." "You'll do fine, no matter where you place. If you're really worried about it, talk to Jan. I have some math prep books around here. Take some time to brush up before your test." Dave kissed her nose. "Regardless of what course you place into, you'll need to set aside some study time. And fortunately, you have plenty of people in this house that can help. Becca of course, and me for math and science, Lupie's good with numbers and presentations, and management or decision making. What Jan doesn't know she knows how to find. Shawna would be great for math, science or public speaking, but she still has a full time job that keeps her out of the house eight hours a day at least, so she may be less available." Reena smiled. "Yeah, she's kind of a badass. Like she's so completely feminine lovey dovey with you, but work wise, she rules the roost and gets things done." "Feminine does not mean weak, baby doll." Over the past week or so, Reena had shown a preference for diminutive names and pseudo-possessive treatment. Dave suspected it was partially due to her high school relationships with jocks and trust fund boys, but he fed her what she asked for while making sure she still felt loved and appreciated. The caramel-skinned teen smiled back. "I know. But it's nice when you say that too." She paused to change direction back to the main topic. "I think I'd like to go into interior design. That would mean an associate's in, well, anything really, but business might be a good idea. Then a trade school for my focus classes. I thought about fashion for a while, but all that cutting and sewing sounds really annoying. Placing furniture and décor, choosing the right painting and lighting, that sounds challenging and fun." "I like the passion I hear in your voice. I'm right behind you. Just; don't ask me to tell the difference between jade and emerald." "They're totally different!" Dave chuckled and gave her another hug. "Hell, half the time, someone has to remind me that chartreuse is a green hue, not a red one." "Ugh!" Reena rolled her eyes and huffed. "Isn't this the same guy that cried at two different movies last night?" "Hey, anyone that doesn't cry when Goose dies is a heartless brute. Ditto for Spock." Dave pitched his voice slightly lower and made it raspy and slow. "I have been, and ever shall be; your friend." Reena smacked his chest, water rimming her eyes. The whole house had been on an 80's movie kick, with an emphasis on sci-fi, since that was beloved by Dave, Shawna, and Becca. Livy and Mel were mild fans of science fiction as well. Lupie, Jan, and Reena just wanted to understand their partners better. Reena had sobbed during Spock's death scene. Becca had earlier led Kareena through a few of the original Trek series, including 'Space Seed', 'Amok Time' and 'City on the Edge of Forever' to give her some context for the movies. Before either of them could continue the conversation, the front door opened. Melanie and Olivia came through with several bags straining from each hand. Reena and Dave rose, heading for the door as his two returning partners crossed to the dining room to set down their burdens. Two trips each emptied the car. Melanie and Reena set about getting the cold items stowed first, while Liv grabbed the bag from the sporting goods store and headed upstairs. Dave went to the garage for his tools before joining her. One room had been claimed by Mel and Liv as their own. Primarily just as a private space for the two of them, but of course for those times that privacy was a little more intimately desired. Carter's suspicion was in error, at the time. Neither girl had been intimate with another woman. Prior to moving in, the girls had never shown an interest in each other. Now though, they were somewhere along the road of experimentation. But, the lessons taught to Olivia by her father were deeply rooted. And that lesson was about responsibility as well as security. Which is why they were making this installation, behind Livy's headboard. "This last bolt will do it. Which one are you going with?" "The ten. If someone's trying to hurt us, I want a big punch." "You know what your dad said, aim makes caliber an extra." She narrowed her eyes. "My aim is fine. Better than yours even." "Okay, ok, easy there Annie Oakley." Liv smirked. "You read the programming instructions for the palm print scanner yet?" "No, it's the same model I used in Stephenville, though." "Well, I've got it installed," Dave said, crawling out the small space between the headboard and the wall. Bigger than normal, since they'd pulled it out to do this work, but still tighter than Dave would like. "Time for you to program it. You remember the code to the gun cabinet?" Dave's gun cabinet was built in the understairs area, covered to look like a normal part of the hallway, except the small hatch over the keypad. "Yep. Kinda hard to forget." Liv gave him a kiss as she slipped past and began the programming process. To be continued in part 6, Based on a post by RonanJWilkerson, in 12 parts, for Literotica.

Christmas morning can easily become about exhaustion, expectations, and excitement—but Matthew 2:10–11 reminds us that true joy is found in worshiping Jesus first. By intentionally centering Christmas morning on Christ, families can experience deeper peace, joy, and meaning that lasts far beyond the presents under the tree. Highlights The Magi modeled Christmas worship by rejoicing, bowing, and offering their treasures to Jesus. Holiday exhaustion can distract us, but worship refocuses our hearts on what matters most. Keeping Christ central requires intentional planning, just like other Christmas traditions. Simple practices—reading Luke 2, singing hymns, or praying together—anchor the day in truth. Family traditions can joyfully point children to Jesus without removing the magic of Christmas. Reprioritizing schedules may feel uncomfortable, but it reflects the sacrificial heart of the Gospel. Honoring Jesus on Christmas morning creates opportunities to witness to others through love and example. Gift Inspiration: Crosswalk's Holiday Gift Guide Looking for a meaningful way to celebrate the season? Check out our Holiday Gift Guide—from beautifully illustrated Bibles and devotionals to novels, greeting cards, and picture books, there’s something for everyone on your list. Wrap up stories for loved ones, tuck a book into your own nightstand, and join us in celebrating the wonder of giving this Christmas! Full Transcript Below: Emphasizing Christ on Christmas Morning By: Peyton Garland Bible Reading: “When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.” Matthew 2:10-11 (NIV) If we’re honest, most of us will admit that once Christmas morning arrives, we are utterly exhausted. Whether we are parents who stayed up all night putting together toys with hundreds of tiny pieces, we’ve spent the last week scrambling for last-minute gifts, or we are entertaining guests over the holiday, we have pushed our bodies to the limit. They quickly tell on us, eyes heavy, mind screaming for coffee, slippers dragging the floor. Amid this busy season, how can we ensure that Christ remains the center of Christmas morning, bringing us peace, joy, and hopeful energy far superior to our dark roast brew? How can we approach Christmastime so we enjoy all the festive traditions yet keep the manger the main thing? Thankfully, the answer isn’t a deep secret, and it’s what most of us do well, almost too well, this time of year. Planning. Conscientious, motivated planning. No doubt, we go to great detail to collaborate with friends concerning the annual tacky Christmas sweater party. We ensure that we pack and donate at least one Operation Christmas Child box per family member. We attend our little niece’s Nutcracker performance, a bouquet of festive roses in hand. We manage to balance all of the holiday’s hustle and bustle because we hold ourselves accountable to what we value most. Value Christ above all else this Christmas morning by grabbing a calendar and listing out exactly how your family will engage in holiday celebrations centered on Jesus. Invite your family to sit down with you and toss around ideas for which celebratory traditions sound best for both the children and adults. A few creative ideas include: Gathering at the dining room table to read Luke 2 before opening presents or eating Christmas breakfast/brunch. Playing Christmas hymns in the background as everyone eats breakfast. Adding a “Happy Birthday, Jesus” cake to the breakfast menu, letting everyone sing Happy Birthday to the greatest Birthday Boy in history. (I know a family who does this each Christmas, and their four children love it!) Before opening gifts, have everyone take turns sharing why Jesus remains the greatest gift in their heart and life. Placing a nativity scene at the foot of the Christmas tree before eating breakfast or opening gifts. (Placing a nativity scene at the foot of the Christmas tree is an old Catholic tradition that I learned from my husband’s family, and though my husband, son, and I are non-denominational, it is a dear tradition we honor each year.) If Santa visits your children, have Santa write a note to them, celebrating the ways they have grown in character that year while also sharing that he, too, knows that Christ is most important on Christmas Day. (Remember, little hearts that lean into magic will lean into miracles, so don’t cut the miracles short!) I pray these ideas spark creativity as you pray about and consider the Holy Spirit’s leading in how to best honor and praise Jesus on Christmas morning. But I also pray that you recognize that honoring Jesus on Christmas morning might mean you must reprioritize other things. Perhaps extended family members who typically join you for a casual Christmas breakfast at 9 can come over for a Christmas brunch at 11 (so your family has a quiet time of worship beforehand). However, if they are interested in joining your “Happy Birthday, Jesus” celebration, they can come over whenever is best for your family. Bonus: this is a great opportunity to love on your family members who aren’t believers! If your kiddos are accustomed to starting Christmas morning by seeing what Santa brought, I encourage you not to take away from that joy, but to reposition it. Explain to them ahead of time that since Christmas is about Jesus, we will celebrate Him first, then see what Santa brought. Having this conversation in advance allows little hearts to anticipate a schedule change. This gives them room to ask questions to better understand the purpose behind this new tradition. These new shifts might be uncomfortable or make little ones a bit fussy at first, but remember, the Gospel had uncomfortable beginnings, as a teenage girl gave birth among cattle and the Savior of the world was placed in a trough of prickly hay. May we truly adore Him as we sacrifice our schedules to put Him first this Christmas. Intersecting Faith & Life: Even after Christmas has passed, sit down with your family to discuss ways to continue keeping Christ the center of your days. Consider a daily family devotional or prayer time. Allow the children to include their own ideas. Further Reading:When Creating Christmas Memories Costs Your Sanity Psalm 145:4 Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

Placing 2nd at Texas Pro. Real talk the whole time, everything you'd want to know, from the deep sht to how they blew up and the juicy deets in between. Honored to know these bros. The Bodybuilding-friendly HRT Clinic - Get professional medical guidance on peptides AND optimizing your health as a man or bodybuilder: [ Pharma Test, IGF1, Tesamorelin, Glutathione, BPC, Semaglutide, Var troche, etc]http://www.transcendcompany.com/nylenaygaRP Hypertrophy Training App: rpstrength.com/nylePlease share this episode if you liked it. To support the podcast, the best cost-free way is to subscribe and please rate the podcast 5* wherever you find your podcasts. Thanks for watching.To be part of any Q&A, follow trensparentpodcast or nylenayga on instagram and watch for Q&A prompts on the story  https://www.instagram.com/trensparentpodcast/Huge Supplements (Protein, Pre, Defend Cycle Support, Utilize GDA, Vital, Astragalus, Citrus Bergamot): https://www.hugesupplements.com/discount/NYLESupport code 'NYLE' 10% off - proceeds go towards upgrading content productionYoungLA Clothes: https://www.youngla.com/discount/nyleCode ‘NYLE' to support the podcastLet's chat about the Podcast:Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/trensparentpodcast/TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@transparentpodcastPersonalized Bodybuilding Program:  https://www.nylenaygafitness.com00:00:00Intro 00:02:21The Post-Show Dopamine Crash vs. Prep "Grumpiness"00:02:42Relationship Survival Guide: "The Pre-Emptive Apology"00:04:31Reading Cortisol: Why "Low" Can Be Worse Than "High"00:05:12Adrenal Burnout Protocol: "Baby Sessions" & No Cardio00:06:52Elliot's Pro Debut: Navigating the "Growing Pains"00:07:29The "Food Noise" Reality: When One Donut Turns into Four00:08:03Retatrutide ("Retta"): The 2mg Protocol for Appetite Control00:09:19Flashback: The Misery of the 1100-Calorie Natty Prep00:12:14The Cult Following of the Unranked Podcast00:14:41The Origin Story of the "Unranked" Name00:16:19The Great Debate: Health Phase vs. Aggressive Rebound00:18:43The Burnout Checklist: When to Abort the Rebound00:20:10Metabolic Adaptation: When the Body Stops Responding00:23:29Methylation Hacks: Methyl Folate & The MTHFR Mutation00:25:31The "Mic Check" Comedy Segment00:28:05Andrew's Origin: The Magazine Era (1996)00:33:58Kyle's Origin: The Mentorship Era (2014)00:37:54Joining the "Dark Side" at Age 10? (Andrew's Story)00:39:57Andrew's First Cycle: The "Tren & D-Bol" Kitchen Sink00:42:00Kyle's First Cycle: Pro-Hormones & Peer Pressure00:43:19The "Mad Scientist": Snorting Andro at Age 1400:45:10The Golden Rule: Wait Until 25 (Or 30)00:47:09The "Natty Ceiling": Switching to the Dark Side (Chris's Story)00:49:58The Halo-Only Nightmare: A Lesson in Hormonal Crashing00:56:27Financial Advice for Young Pros: Freeze Your Sperm01:03:16Training Mistakes: The "Two-a-Day" Trap01:06:57The Meadows Hack: Binge Until You're Sick01:10:54The "Dreamer Bulk" Mistake: Fat Doesn't Turn to Muscle01:13:00The Secret to Rebounding: Stay "Hungry" & Insulin Sensitive01:21:38Executing the Health Phase: Diet & Training Adjustments01:26:47The "Zero Carb" Depletion Experiment (Martin's Protocol)01:35:19Peak Week Orals: Managing Winstrol & Digestion Issues01:40:52The "Detox Week" Protocol: No Training, Med Diet01:44:11Setting the Cap: Max Weight Gain Post-Show (10-15%)01:49:49The "Soft Landing": Using Primo/Proviron to Bridge01:51:25The "No-Go" List: DNP & Dangerous Diuretics01:

Ben and Josh discuss the ways that we can see ourselves in God's story, and ways that we can minister to one another in the context of our congregation. The Words of Grace Podcast seeks to clarify, amplify, and apply the Sunday morning sermon at Grace Community Church. From time to time we will address other topics. We hope these podcasts help impress the Word of God into your everyday life. Episodes are hosted by Josh Hussung and Scott Patty.

Episode 191: Guests:  Alexander Hamilton; John Adams; James Madison; Samuel Cooper; Benjamin Franklin; The General CongressApplied HistoryThe Workers that Keep America MovingHamilton's Defense of Congress Pt 3Life Liberty and PropertyCriminals and AccomplicesSelf-preservation and the Greater UnionChaos and Corruption as the Only OptionsWhy do the American People (2025) Support Corruption?The Example of the Congress 1774Congress 1774 vs Congress 2025British Parliament 1774 Approximates U.S. Congress 2024+Placing a Foot Forward___________________Support the show

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

Placing 2nd at Texas Pro. Real talk the whole time, everything you'd want to know, from the deep sht to how they blew up and the juicy deets in between. Honored to know these bros. The Bodybuilding-friendly HRT Clinic - Get professional medical guidance on peptides AND optimizing your health as a man or bodybuilder: [ Pharma Test, IGF1, Tesamorelin, Glutathione, BPC, Semaglutide, Var troche, etc]http://www.transcendcompany.com/nylenaygaRP Hypertrophy Training App: rpstrength.com/nylePlease share this episode if you liked it. To support the podcast, the best cost-free way is to subscribe and please rate the podcast 5* wherever you find your podcasts. Thanks for watching.To be part of any Q&A, follow trensparentpodcast or nylenayga on instagram and watch for Q&A prompts on the story  https://www.instagram.com/trensparentpodcast/Huge Supplements (Protein, Pre, Defend Cycle Support, Utilize GDA, Vital, Astragalus, Citrus Bergamot): https://www.hugesupplements.com/discount/NYLESupport code 'NYLE' 10% off - proceeds go towards upgrading content productionYoungLA Clothes: https://www.youngla.com/discount/nyleCode ‘NYLE' to support the podcastLet's chat about the Podcast:Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/trensparentpodcast/TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@transparentpodcastPersonalized Bodybuilding Program:  https://www.nylenaygafitness.com00:00:00Intro00:03:43First Cycle Experience00:06:1290s Mentality vs. Modern Science00:08:00Mental Side Effects & Anxiety00:09:22"Death Face" at the 9-to-500:15:51Fat Kid to Anorexia: The Origin Story00:23:51The 80lb Binge Eating Rebound00:26:34Losing Dad & Finding Purpose00:34:52The Reality of Being 300lbs00:40:17Blood Work & Kidney Health00:45:22Coming Off vs. Cruising00:58:198,000 Calories & The McDonald's Diet01:08:49Growth Hormone & Insulin Protocols01:13:01Injection Sites: The "Ass Fat" Method01:15:51Sleep Apnea & The Death Rattle01:21:15The Secret to Transformation01:36:02The Disney World Scooter Incident01:37:49Gaining 50lbs in One Cycle01:45:07Dosage Evolution (Year 1 to Pro)01:51:23Crying While Force Feeding01:58:17Current Cycle Reveal02:09:26Training: Volume vs. Intensity02:15:20The "Death Cocktail" Prep Cycle02:23:12Essential Health Supplements02:45:07Final Message to the World

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

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Servicing Foxx Inc: Part 2 First day of work at Foxx Inc.. By PtmcPilot listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories. As a brief recap, I had separated from the Navy a few weeks ago after six years in submarines. Growing bored of lounging around my parents' house, I began a job search, and to my surprise I found myself in an interview a short time later. An interview, believe it or not, that ended with my having sex with my hiring manager. My job, should I choose to accept it, was to sexually service the women of Foxx Inc. Just based on the interview, good work if you can get it. We pick up my journal record where the Friday job interview was finishing.. I stood and removed my shirt. Through lidded eyes she watched as I pushed down my pants and underwear. She smiled when my slightly longer than average cock (as accurately reported on the questionnaire) came into view. "Would you please have intercourse with me now Thomas?" I said, "If you don't think it terribly rude, I would rather fuck you, Ms. Olson." "Um, that sounds fine to me," she said with a husky voice. Placing myself at her entrance, I pushed into her in one long, languid stroke, luxuriating in the snug, warm and wet feel of her cunt. Fully sheathed, she gave me a squeeze then placed my hands on her breasts. "Be rough with my nipples; I'll let you know if you go too far." I took her breasts in my hands, pressing them together even as I started to pinch her nipples. Her back arched as I did so, suggesting I was at least not going too far. I withdrew and started fucking her with long slow strokes. After a few minutes of simply enjoying the feel of her, I asked, "So, how many women are we talking about?" "My your cock feels good," she purred, "Um, what was that? Oh! Yes, we currently have forty five on staff." Damn her cunt felt great as she gripped me on the way out. I reseated myself with a sudden quick stroke and she gasped. "I do believe I have found a satisfactory replacement," she said as she smiled at me. My thrusting slowly became more and more forceful, and urgent. She stopped moaning briefly to say, "I may have forgotten to tell you something important." I heard her, and didn't process it. My thrusts were now getting frantic, and my partner knew quite clearly what that meant. "Mr. Jeffries, when you are servicing a woman in the Firm and she is wearing blue or black lipstick, you are to ejaculate in her mouth when you finish." As she said that I had that feeling you get when you know you are a few seconds from orgasm. And it finally registered she was wearing black lipstick. "Better get in position then, Ms. Olson!" I grunted through gritted teeth as I pulled out of her delectable cunt. She slid off the table and to her knees in front of me. Placing her hands on my ass, she took my cock in her mouth and began to bob her head as she attacked me with her tongue. Already past the point of no return I grabbed handfuls of her hair but did not pull her to me. As she sucked wildly on the head of my cock I grunted out that I was coming. Then, I teetered on the edge, that glorious edge of not quite there, and then I quite literally saw stars as I exploded in her mouth. I could not see how much I was coming, but it sure felt like a lot. I shot several strong bursts into her mouth before she gave me one last suck and I collapsed back onto the chair. I grinned stupidly at her as she appeared to swish my ejaculate around in her mouth before swallowing rather demonstrably. Grinning like the Cheshire cat, she leaned forward and gave me a peck on the lips. "Quite acceptable Mr. Jeffries, quite acceptable. You need to increase your water intake and consider adding some pineapple juice, but quite acceptable." "You mean, if I take the job," I said with some cheek. "Monday, 0 900," she said, apparently ignoring my statement. It had been frivolous after all. "Will you tell me what Tilly told you?" I asked. As she dressed she answered me very offhandedly. "I contacted her, had her sign and NDA, then paid her a large amount of cash to characterize you as a lover." I followed her lead and began dressing. "To be precise, I did not ask; what did you ask her, but rather what she told you." She kissed me, then smiled, "So very much the right choice," and she patted my cheek, "When you pay people upfront they may tell you nothing, but they never lie. She gushed on about you, which is something you should look into, before she paused, then said quite steadily, 'eager, pleasing, vigorous, energetic, trainable,'" she paused for effect, "and very good. Why, is he available?" Her look said, 'that's precisely the words she used. "And the last thing she said before I thanked her was, 'you snap him up.'" I didn't have anything to say to that except that I might have to look Tilly up soon. Ms. Olson adjusted her skirt and donned her top before picking up her jacket. "As you might expect, Mr. Jeffries, we have policies and procedures." She winked at me, then took a pamphlet from the desk and handed it to me as she sat on the desk in front of me again. "That contains everything you need to know. Please commit it to memory by Monday." I took the pamphlet and she said, "One other thing, you can play up the fantasy element." "Fantasy element?" I asked. She smiled, a brilliant expression on her face. "You are the hunk of a package delivery man. The building super who always has just.the.right. tool. You are the plumber showing up when the poor lady of the house doesn't have the money to pay." She pulled me in for a hug and whispered in my ear, "Dress the part and keep these women happy." She kissed me hard after that speech, a furious and inspired attack on my lips and tongue. I was almost ready to go again when she stopped and pushed me back. After I finished dressing as she watched me, she looped her arm through mine and escorted me out of the building. "I'll start you off at three. See you Monday at 0 900 for orientation." There was the twenty-four hour time again. "Three? Or nine?" I said, a bit confused. As she pushed me out the door she winked at me and said, "Servicing three of the staff per day, starting at oh-nine hundred." I don't remember the drive home as all I did was replay the afternoon in my mind and smile like an idiot. Well, a happy, grinning idiot. I was looking forward to some weekend reading and a little uniform shopping before starting work on Monday. Friday evening after the interview went by in a blur, or more of a daze I guess. After a couple of hours staring at the ceiling wondering if I was still in the same reality, I realized the truth: my reality had, in fact, changed. Picking up the booklet given to me by the HR Rep, Ms. Olson, I took a deep breath and started to read. Some of the material was plain, for example, requirements for my workout regimen, typically working hours, parking, security procedures, and general responsibilities akin to those of a building manager. However, as I expected, other parts were anything but plain. The Provider of Building Services, PBS, is responsible for meeting the sexual needs of the female staff of Foxx Inc according the rules, procedures, and customs identified herein. Every day a certain number (controlled by HR) of randomly selected women have access to the PBS spaces via key card. While more than one woman may be in the spaces at a time, the doors will only permit access to women on the services roster for that day. I wondered who, if anyone, checked up on this in practice. Limiting access helped with privacy to some extent, but someone had to know. Most likely security, but I supposed you have to trust someone. I read on. Unless expressly permitted by additional guidance (e.g., Special Circumstances), the PBS shall provide services described herein strictly within the confines of the PBS spaces. One particularly interesting section was about staff key cards. Usage of one card was something that probably should have been moved to my security indoc. A set of tri-graphs on the front of the badge indicated clearances, and these were to be matched with door mounted placards prior to attempting entry to a secure space. Attempting access to an unauthorized space was a security violation. A second key card had a completely different set of tri-graphs. As there are situations in which the PBS may find himself engaging in an act with a staff member without prior discussion, tri-graphs on the reverse indicate acceptable acts without prior agreement. Wow, I stopped reading and mused about how that situation might, er, arise. I flipped to the back of the booklet and read over some of the codes. They were numerous, and included "VSX", "ASX", "OSX", "FOX". These stood for, as you might have guessed, vaginal sex, anal, oral and fellatrix (sort of). There were a couple dozen of these, catering to most sexual acts I'd either done or thought of. I supposed I had better keep the 'decoder ring' nearby for the first few weeks to be sure I didn't misstep. Then there were some modifiers, such as: When servicing staff members wearing blue or black lipstick, ejaculation, should it take place, is to be inside the woman's mouth. What a place to go to work! The PBS shall shower after each encounter and log in his work calendar when complete. This is so the next woman desiring to take advantage of the service has a good idea of when to show up after a sufficient rest period. I wondered how the duration of my rest period was to be determined, then I shrugged. Something to worry about later. Special circumstances. From time to time there may be modifications to these rules put forward for specific periods of time. The terms and conditions of these events will be published ahead of time so as to prevent confusion. As an example, quarterly a "Free Use" day event is held. On such days, subject to the specific terms of the day, the PBS may make sexual use of any staff member wearing a blue or black dress or skirt without prior agreement. This may occur at any time, in any part of the building. The PBS alone is responsible for ensuring no embarrassment befalls Foxx Inc. as a result. For example, it would not be appropriate to engage a staff member in intercourse or have her perform fellatio, while visible on a conference call with persons outside of the firm. As if things could not get any stranger, here I was reading about how my new place of work had days with sex on demand for myself as well! Once again, wow. Weekends. In the unusual event that staff are scheduled to work hours in the office on a weekend or holiday, the PBS will be paid on an exponential scale according to how many staff are serviced during the time. There are no access limits during these times. In general the PBS should expect from three to six visits per day. If the PBS is unable to provide service on request, this will be logged and the staff member provided a 'rain check.' Repeated inability to provide service may be grounds for termination. Based on past history, the PBS is discouraged from personal sexual relationships as well as masturbation on days prior to work (aka, school nights). Having finished most of the reading, the thought of rubbing one out did cross my mind. However, I decided to take a pause and look forward to Monday. Besides, there were things I needed to take care of. For one, I needed a place to live now that I had a job. I scoured some real estate sites and made some appointments for weekend viewings. It was time to leave my parents, though at least I'd still be living nearby. For another, I needed appropriate attire for work as described by Ms. Olson. I searched for uniform retailers and identified several in town. I also still had my submarine coveralls, which had the advantages of comfort and ease of access. I figured my underwear selection needed a boost as well, so some department stores got added to the list. After night's sleep punctuated by reliving my encounter with Ms. Olson, my Saturday was filled with visits to apartments (I didn't have enough stuff to warrant a whole house) and stops at uniform suppliers. On the second try I found exactly what I was looking for: a wide variety of uniforms, and custom made at that. The staff took my measurements before having me page through their on-line catalog of uniforms. Auto repair shops, custodial staff, HVAC companies, plumbing companies, and even a couple security companies. If they thought it strange I was ordering all kinds of different clothes, they didn't say anything about it. And though I was eager to tell someone of my good fortune, I did not. I did, however, tell them of my need to have at least one available on Monday, one on Tuesday, and the rest soon after. And with appropriate name badges, which were just random male names instead of mine alone. Although it would cost 50% more, they said they could deliver. It wasn't until Sunday afternoon that the perfect apartment crossed my path. The building was a new mixed development, with reasonably spacious apartments in the floors over retail stores and restaurants. Best of all it was located only a couple miles from Foxx Inc. There were a couple of furnished units and I could move in at once. I called my Dad and told him I'd stop by in a couple of days, but that I was moving to an apartment across town. My parents were out of town on vacation, and I didn't want to surprise them when they came home and found me gone. I drove my small amount of belongings across town, signed the paperwork, provided my deposits, received my keys and moved in. My first uniform, that of an HVAC tech from a local company, arrived Sunday in the late afternoon. It fit perfectly and sported the name "Joe" on the tag. Early Monday morning I went for a run and had some breakfast before heading to Foxx Inc. There was no way I was going to be late, let alone on my first day, and I arrived a good thirty minutes early. Unlike late Friday afternoon, the parking complex was quite full. Upon entering I noticed the assigned spots, only there was a new sign. It read "T Jeffries, PBS". I parked there, and rather than sit in the car until 0 900, and I went on into the building. Again, unlike Friday afternoon, the reception desk was manned. Well, that's not actually correct. A young woman, who could not have been more than nineteen, sat attentively behind the desk. She was looking right at me when I came through the doors. She stood at once and came around the desk, hand extended. "Hello," she paused and looked at my name badge with some confusion, "Are you the new PBS, Joe?" I shook her hand and nodded, my blue-gray uniform appearing to be on point. I said, "In the flesh." To my surprise, she blushed, but did not say anything else. I continued, "I'm afraid I don't know the first thing I'm supposed to do. Do you have any ideas? Or maybe, Ms. Olson?" She shook her head and smiled, "Forgive me. I'm Allie. And yes, I do have the plan for your first day. If you will follow me?" She then turned and took me down the same path I had taken on Friday. Entering what I figured was now my office, she said, "Please take a seat and I'll let security know you are here." I nodded, then did as she asked. Sitting down I opened up the small fridge behind the desk and found several bottles of water, Coke Zero, Diet Mountain Dew and pineapple juice. I was once again impressed at their knowledge of things that would not be documented anywhere, namely my choice of low calorie drinks. Then I smiled when I thought back to Ms. Olson's comment about pineapple juice. I took one and opened it. No sooner had I done that when the door opened and a woman, guessing in her late twenties, entered the room. She was average height, somewhere less than five and a half feet, slim build, with dark brown hair and eyes. She was wearing a black shirt and slacks and the badge around her neck identified her as Susan Moss, site security. Her face was angular and sharp, maybe indicating some Native American heritage. She was quite good looking. The look in her eyes was, well, hungry. I stood and extended a hand. She read my name tag and said, "Joe? I didn't think that was your name." She shook my hand with a firm grip, then shrugged. "I'll need a photo ID before generating your badge." I nodded and pulled out my wallet, handing her my very new Florida driver's license. She then sat her backpack on the table and withdrew a device which she plugged into one of the computer's USB ports. Then she surprised me, though she shouldn't have. "If you don't mind taking a seat?" she said. I nodded and sat down, still not having said a word since the receptionist. And then she surprised me by sitting down on my lap as she logged into the system and started work. Thinking it was a good idea, I put my hands on her hips. I was sure it was only going to be seconds before she felt me start to harden against her ass. As she scanned my ID and continued to work through pages she wiggled her ass against my growing erection and said, "One of the best things about security is that I'm always the first stop for the new guy." "First stop?" I said. "He speaks!" she said. "Yes. There's some forty of us here, and that could mean two to three weeks before everyone gets to, well, try you out." She wiggled again, and now I was at full mast. "But not security, got to get you badged straightaway." Her fingers typed at a furious pace and then there was a pause. She handed me her badges over her shoulder. "I assume you read the book?" "I was a nuclear trained operator, so when I'm told to read a book you can bet I did." She laughed. "Then I'll just say, your choice, though I do need to keep an eye on this process for the next 10 to 15 minutes." She looked over her shoulder, then stood and bent over the desk. Looking at the badge I read a number of tri-graphs. Fortunately, the meaning of a few of them came to quickly: BST (breast squeezing and kneading), CIP (come in cunt), and OSX (my providing oral sex). However, given her current position, I decided straight up sex was what she was most likely interested in. Standing up, I reached around and started to unbutton her shirt as I ground my hips into her ass. I was sure she could feel my hardness as I did so. A few moments later her shirt was open and I unhooked her bra, freeing her nicely sized breasts for my grasp. I spent some time fondling her before nuzzling her neck and sucking on an earlobe. She purred, though she kept her arms on the table, striking a key every now and then as the status bar very slowly worked its way up from 0%. Reluctantly leaving her very taut nipples, I unbuckled her belt, then unfastened and unzipped her slacks before pushing them and her underwear down to her knees. One of my hands returned to her lovely breasts as the other reached down between her legs. Her hair felt groomed but not shaved, and her cunt was wet. I groaned in her ear, "Ready for me already?" "I've been ready since I got here at eight this morning." As she finished that sentence my fingers spread her apart and I pushed myself into her fully in a slow, pleasurable stroke. Leaving her breast again I turned her face toward me. "Sorry, I didn't remember if you were wearing lipstick." She smiled, then turned back to the computer. "I'm not, Joe, because I really enjoy it when a man starts to lose control inside me. Gets me off every time." By this point I had started to fuck her quite soundly. From her words I figured she wasn't so much into a slow tryst as much as a galloping fuck. I did my best to oblige her. The whole while I was pounding her warm, wet and pliant cunt, she continued to monitor the status of the computer, even typing every now and then even as I repeatedly sheathed myself inside her. Though not talking to me, she was moaning and her breathing was quickening. My hands full of her breasts, I held myself within her completely and paused my hips. She brushed her hair out of her face and looked at me over her shoulder. "I'm ready to finish whenever you are ready to cum in my cunt, Joe," said hoarsely. Still looking at me I reached up and held her chin so I could kiss her even as I pulled back and gave her another deep stroke. She moaned heavily into my mouth, and I did it again. Breaking the kiss she said in a husky voice, "Fuck me, please." Not having any intention of making her wait, I placed both hands on her hips and adjusted my position for the final stretch. As I did, and kept fucking her, she said, "The badge is printing." Holding her in place I quickly accelerated my pace and knew that I would come soon. My pace picked up and I was sure she could tell. "Damn you feel good! I'm going to come soon," I grunted as I fucked her, quickly losing control of my movements. She could tell. "Fuck me Joe!" she barked, "let go and come inside me!" As my hips got a bit more frantic she moaned loudly, "Um, I'm coming!" As her breath caught and she clenched around me, I felt myself peak as well, "Coming!" I grunted, and then bucked into her uncontrollably as I started to fill her cunt. The wonderful feeling went on for a good while, and the whole time she rewarded my efforts with a wonderful moan and "yes" sounds. I sat down, holding her to me such that I was still deep inside as I started to soften. She typed in a few more things to the machine, then pulled her card and turned her head to me, kissing me firmly and thoroughly. "I'll be back with your badge in a few minutes or so," she said, then gave me another satisfied lover's kiss before she stood and I slipped out of her. I watched as she dressed and strode out of the room before I duck-walked to the door that led to my own restroom and shower. After refreshing myself I sat down and waited for Susan to return. To my surprise, Ms. Olson came through the door. It was not lost on me that once again she was wearing dark blue lipstick. She licked those lips and gave me an appraising look. "Very nice, Joe. Where did you get the uniform?" I told her the story of the uniform shop and she smiled. "Well done, but you'll need to expense that to the firm of course. Have Cindy show you how when she sets up your account later." As I nodded, Susan came through the door, twirling a badge around a finger. She stopped when she saw Ms. Olson. "Just stopping by to deliver his badge," the security lady said. Ms. Olson raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "And security's appraisal of our new building services provider?" Susan handed me my badge and turned to the somewhat officious acting HR rep, "Happy to report fulfilled and filled," she winked at me, "and in that order." Ms. Olson nodded, and Susan flashed me a smile on her way out the door. Ms. Olson sat on my desk and smiled at me. "Off to a good start. Very nice," she said. Then she unbuttoned her jacket, parted it, and lifted her once again sheer blouse to bare her breasts to me. "I wish I could enjoy you now, but the doctor has you next." I took her breasts in my hands firmly squeezing them and quickly latching on to a nipple and lightly biting down. She moaned in approval and after a few moments I switched to the other while continuing to pinch the first. She stroked the back of my head, holding me to her breast as I repeated the move again. Then she pushed me back and kissed me hard, her firm nipples pressing into me. She reached down and felt my stiffening cock through my trousers. "Mr. Jeffries, although I have you started at three, would you be opposed to my visiting you when you are finished with it?" I pulled her to me and gave her another kiss, my hands still pinching her nipples and squeezing her wonderful tits. "It does seem appropriate to check in with my hiring manager at the end of my first day," I said. She nudged me away and then straightened her clothes, also checking her makeup in the mirror and wiping a bit of lipstick off my lips. "Very good Mr. Jeffries. I'll check back at the end of the day." She turned to go, then said over her shoulder, "By the way, Ms. Jenkins is quite particular." "Ms. Jenkins?" I asked. "Our on-site physician," she winked at me, "She is here several days a month, and when she is she is considered a member of the Firm." I smiled, "Of course she is." "We offer comprehensive medical insurance, and quality medical care starts with full knowledge of a patient's history." She put her hand on the door handle, "And a complete physical, of course." "Of course," I said quietly. As she put her hand on the door handle she looked back at me, "By the way, I suppose Shaggy and Velma were before your time?" "Excuse me?" I said. "Spend a little time on google so you'll know what I'm talking about," she said, then winked and left the room. "Sure," I said to no one in particular. In the next twenty minutes I downed a bottle of water and another bottle of pineapple juice. There were some binders on the shelves and I removed one named 'Overview' and sat down to browse through it. The binder contained a table of contents and what looked like dozens of plastic sleeved schematics and pages of text. I leafed through descriptions of electrical and plumbing systems, reports on past contractor performance, information on current custodial staff, specifications of the food preparation equipment and all of the building safety systems. The Byzantine floor layouts were also included, complete with labeled diagrams of the various security systems and door access points. Power supplies for these were indicated, along with failsafe conditions and emergency criteria. Searching for something that could be a physicians office or a nurse's station, there was an office located on this very floor labeled "Medical." Examining the map I was able to figure out how I could get there from my current location; provided of course my key card worked. It was at this time that I noticed there were a number of tri graphs on the reverse of my badge. Some of them were familiar, others I would need to consult the book to decipher. At 10 30 my office door opened and a woman leaned in and looked at me. "Mr. Jeffries?" I nodded and stood. She strode over to me and extended a hand and said, "Angela Jenkins, nurse practitioner." I shook her hand, "Tom Jeffries." She looked at my quizzically, "I know. Please follow me." I was a bit taken aback by her actions, but said nothing. I followed her out the door, past the receptionist and through another door. This led to a very small room with two chairs and a small table. On the table was a clipboard with what looked to be several pieces of paper. She gestured to one of the chairs and said, "Please take a seat." She waited for me to do so, and then she added, "I want to be very clear and honest with you, Mr. Jeffries. This exam will include some rather blatantly sexual portions. While I don't believe that is a surprise, I am willing to let you know ahead of time in each case." To my surprise, I found that aspect particularly exciting. I replied using a tone I hoped was similar to her somewhat formal one, "I would appreciate it if you did so." She smiled broadly, "Very good then. I'll be sure to. Now, please review the materials as they describe the procedures we will cover today, and then complete the medical history questionnaire as best you can. Please knock on the door when you are ready." This odd introduction ended, she walked out of the room. It was only then that I reflected on what she looked like. Dark brown hair, a curvy figure, just a bit shorter than myself, with a brilliant smile, aquiline features, and perhaps the most intense eyes I had ever encountered. Her hair was in a tight bun, her light pink dress one that buttoned down the front. I picked up the clipboard, shaking my head at the rather insane working conditions I found myself in. A path to something even more odd wasn't possible, or so I thought until I started to read the medical exam description. It was only a bulleted list. The first several things were obvious and expected: vital signs, blood samples, urine samples, review of medical history, immunization status, and more things I expected. And then came the rest of the list: 100% visual survey of skin for unusual moles, lesions, etc., testicular cancer examination, prostate exam, sexual function test and sperm sample. Yes, I was a bit surprised, but mostly by this time the surprise was limited to 'how does she plan to do this?' The medical history was typical and required little more than a lot of short answers and box checking. I knocked on the door fifteen minutes later. To be continued By PtmcPilot for Literotica

After nearly FOUR YEARS, the FBI has finally arrested a suspect in the infamous DNC and RNC pipe bomb case. Brian J. Cole Jr., a 30-year-old from Woodbridge, Virginia, has been taken into custody and charged with: Transporting an explosive across state lines, Attempted destruction of property, Placing explosive devices outside both party headquarters on January 5, 2021. According to FBI Director Kash Patel, new leadership completely rebooted the investigation, re-analyzing millions of data points that the old FBI leadership ignored or mishandled. No new tips were needed — the evidence had been there all along.SUBSCRIBE to Stephen Gardner's YouTube Channel here: https://www.youtube.com/@StephenGardner1 ▶Sign up to our Free Newsletter, so you never miss out: https://bio.site/professornez▶Support the Channel and Buy us a Coffee: https://buymeacoffee.com/professornez☑️JOIN US and Become a MEMBER of NEZNATION: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC4vxhI2-CpDPt16TCUF0Tmw/joinCHECK OUT OUR TOP RATED PODCAST:

Photographs preserve what daily life cannot—moments that would otherwise fade into obscurity. In today's show, we explore this topic through a nexus of American culture, popular folklore, and photographic archives in a chat with Alan Govenar and Adam Forgash, two photographers and visual historians who are passionate about unearthing and preserving forgotten stories. Coming from different backgrounds, Alan's formal training and experience with the non-profit Documentary Arts complements Adam's hands-on skills hunting for treasures and selling vintage photographica at New York's Chelsea Flea Market. A few of the points they discuss include: the central role of the community photographer in twentieth-century life, the cultural significance of Route 66 as a favored connection point, the painstaking process of resurrecting century-old portraits from damaged glass plates, and much more. As Adam notes about these rescued portraits now titled "Faces of the Mother Road," "I've had these kinds of collections over the last 30 years and kind of let them go, but this one, I knew there was something special about it. So, as soon as I realized what I was looking at, I stopped. I put it in climate control storage. I got archival paper to put it in. I started a numbering system.  "It feels pretty good," he adds, "to get more serious about my craft, realizing that I am a photo historian, even though I don't have a degree." Guests: Alan Govenar & Adam Forgash Episode Timeline: 3:07: Alan Govenar's early connections to photography and his introduction to Stoney, the hunchbacked tattoo artist who jumpstarted his photo career. 8:33: The role various media has played in Alan's work as an interdisciplinary artist and how changes to media has influenced his storytelling. 11:37: Adam Forgash describes New York's Chelsea Flea Market and the treasure trove of 8,000 glass negatives he discovered there. 16:18: A peek into the Texas African American Photography Archive, and the era of the community photographer. 22:02: Storytelling within a historical context and a photographer's accountability in reverse engineering a story from vestiges of the past. 27:01: Adam's accidental discovery of a second half to SJ Tyler's archive and tracking down information about the photographer. 30:49: Connecting the story of SJ Tyler's portrait studio to an exhibit celebrating the centennial of Route 66. 32:28: Episode Break 33:47: Making distinctions between Alan's formal education in folklore and Adam's schooling at the hands of New York's Chelsea flea market crowd.  40:23: Adam's approach to beginning this project, and how SJ Tyler's collection differed from past archives he's worked on. 42:52: Connections between Tyler's photographs and the significance of travel on Route 66, plus Adam's relationship to Tulsa. 44:26: Placing photographic stories in a wider historical context and their connection to the communities being served. 49:54: Funding and sponsorship for large photographic projects and the benefits to working with a registered non-profit as a pass-through organization. Guest Bios: Alan Govenar is an acclaimed photographer, filmmaker, writer and folklorist. A 2010 Guggenheim Fellow and the author of more than 40 books, Alan is also founder and president of the organization Documentary Arts, which he created to spotlight marginalized voices and cultures, through projects such as the Texas African American Photography Archive. As a filmmaker, Alan has produced and directed documentaries in association with NOVA, ARTE, and PBS. And as a playwright, he has written and produced musicals that have been performed from New York City to major venues across Europe. This year marks some major milestones in Alan's career, with a photography retrospective at the Center for Photography at Woodstock, a new documentary film premiering at New York's Cinema Village, and the publication of three new books, including Kinship & Community, released by Aperture.  Adam Forgash is a photographer, filmmaker, photo history specialist, and proud former Oklahoman. In 2023, while foraging for visual treasures at New York's famed Chelsea Flea Market, Adam happened upon the archive of the undiscovered portrait photographer Sidney J Tyler. From 1913 to 1943, Tyler operated a photo studio in Afton, Oklahoma, making portraits of everyday subjects as they passed through the region, during a break in their travels along Route 66, otherwise known as the "Mother Road". This once-lost visual history of northeast Oklahoma features working-class people of all races and communities, including the famed Tuskegee airmen.  After two years of intensive research into Tyler's archive, Adam's project, now titled Faces of the Mother Road: The Lost Portraits of S.J. Tyler - A Route 66 Story, is poised to make a lasting impact on Oklahoma's visual and historical narrative, just in time for the centennial of Route 66 in 2026. Stay Connected: Alan Govenar Documentary Arts Website: https://www.docarts.com/  Adam Forgash Website: https://adamforgash.com/  Adam Forgash Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/adamforgash/ Credits: Host: Derek Fahsbender Senior Creative Producer: Jill Waterman Senior Technical Producer: Mike Weinstein Executive Producer: Richard Stevens  

The FBI arrested a 30-year-old man, Brian Cole Jr., in its nearly five-year investigation into who placed pipe bombs near the Republican and Democratic headquarters on the eve of the Jan. 6 Capitol attack. Geoff Bennett discussed more with Carol Leonnig, the reporter who broke the story and co-author of “Injustice: How Politics and Fear Vanquished America's Justice Department." PBS News is supported by - https://www.pbs.org/newshour/about/funders. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy

The FBI arrested a 30-year-old man, Brian Cole Jr., in its nearly five-year investigation into who placed pipe bombs near the Republican and Democratic headquarters on the eve of the Jan. 6 Capitol attack. Geoff Bennett discussed more with Carol Leonnig, the reporter who broke the story and co-author of “Injustice: How Politics and Fear Vanquished America's Justice Department." PBS News is supported by - https://www.pbs.org/newshour/about/funders. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy

While there are now some notable Latin American “Unicorns,” the region has lagged behind others when it comes to developing a venture economy. Then still, within Latin America, Colombia has until recently punched below its weight in attracting venture dollars. This may be changing now, and some intrepid Venture Capital firms are betting on Colombian talent and the country's technology infrastructure to produce results.Htwenty Capital is one of those early stage venture firms. During a recent event organized by the City of Medellín's investment promotion agency, ACI Medellín, Loren Moss, executive editor of Finance Colombia and Cognitive Business News was able to spend some time with the investment fund's Platform Lead, Jimena Cortés to discuss the unique challenges—and opportunities that Colombia presents when it comes to funding and growing high potential startups.Read the full article on Finance Colombia: Jimena Cortés Shares Why HTwenty Capital is Placing Venture Bets in Colombia Despite Unique ChallengesSubscribe to Finance Colombia for free: https://www.fcsubscribe.com/Read more at Cognitive Business News: https://cognitivebusiness.news/More about Loren Moss: https://lorenmoss.com/writeContact us: https://unidodigital.media/contact-un...Read more at Finance Colombia: https://www.financecolombia.com/ Subscribe to Finance Colombia for free: https://www.fcsubscribe.com/ Read more at Cognitive Business News: https://cognitivebusiness.news/ The place for bilingual talent! https://empleobilingue.com/ More about Loren Moss: https://lorenmoss.com/write Contact us: https://unidodigital.media/contact-unido-digital-llc/

Giving up alcohol originally felt to Mary Alice Stephens like leaving so many things behind - ‘Fun Mary', date nights with her husband, friendships that centered around wine, and a father who expressed his love through alcohol. Now fourteen years sober, Mary Alice can look back and confidently say that the leap was so worth facing her fears. Mary is the author of the new book Uncorked: A Memoir of Letting Go and Starting Over. In the book and in our conversation she shares the wisdom she has gleaned from almost a decade and a half of sobriety, the things she still reaches for in her sobriety toolkit to stay confidently sober in her current life, and wonderful advice on how to navigate your first sober holiday season.The biggest lightbulb moment for Mary was the realization that her behavior wasn't ‘her'. It was the alcohol. Placing the blame squarely where it deserved to be gave Mary the freedom to make a different choice, and she is not looking back! Connect with Mary Alice and get a copy of her new book Uncorked at www.maryalicestephens.comMy Cyber week picks! Community makes all the difference. Join The Sober Mom Life Cafe for 5+ Peer Support meetings each week and a private Facebook group to connect with sober and sober-curious women. Does sobriety during the upcoming holiday season feel overwhelming? Sign up for my 10-Day Holiday Series! Each day you will receive an email message that I crafted to support you through your first sober holiday season. Sign up here. Get Your Copy of my book The Sober Shift Follow on Instagram @thesobermomlifeSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Kyle Strobel | Advent | November 30th, 2025

The AI revolution of the past few years is built on brain-inspired neural network models originally developed to study our own minds. The question is, what should we make of the fact that our own rich mental lives are built on the same foundations as the seemingly soulless chat-bots we now interact with on a daily basis?Our guest this week is Stanford cognitive scientist Jay McClelland, who has been a leading figure in this field since the 1980s, when he developed some of the first of these artificial neural network models. Now McClelland has a new book, co-authored with SF State University computational neuroscientist Gaurav Suri, called "The Emergent Mind: How Intelligence Arises in People and Machines." We spoke with McClelland about the entangled history of neuroscience and AI, and whether the theory of the emergent mind described in the book can help us better understand ourselves and our relationship with the technology we've created.Learn More New book sheds light on human and machine intelligence | Stanford ReportHow Intelligence – Both Human and Artificial – Happens | KQED Forum From Brain to Machine: The Unexpected Journey of Neural Networks | Stanford HAIWu Tsai Neuro's Center for Mind, Brain, Computation and TechnologyMcClelland, J. L. & Rumelhart, D. E. (1981). An interactive activation model of context effects in letter perception: Part 1. An account of basic findings. Psychological Review, 88, 375-407. [PDF]Rumelhart, D. E., McClelland, J. L., & the PDP research group. (1986). Parallel distributed processing: Explorations in the microstructure of cognition. Volumes I & II. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.McClelland, J. L. & Rogers, T. T. (2003). The parallel distributed processing approach to semantic cognition. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 4, 310-322. [PDF]McClelland, J. L., Hill, F., Rudolph, M., Baldridge, J., & Schuetze, H. (2020). Placing language in and integrated understanding system: Next steps toward human-level performance in neural language models. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 117(42), 25966-25974. [Send us a text!Thanks for listening! If you're enjoying our show, please take a moment to give us a review on your podcast app of choice and share this episode with your friends. That's how we grow as a show and bring the stories of the frontiers of neuroscience to a wider audience. We want to hear from your neurons! Email us at at neuronspodcast@stanford.edu Learn more about the Wu Tsai Neurosciences Institute at Stanford and follow us on Twitter, Facebook, and LinkedIn.

He was a soldier from Byzantium, one of the defenders of Smolensk when it was besieged by the Tatars in 1238. One day the Mother of God appeared to Mercurius and told him that the Tatars were preparing a surprise attack — and, further, that he must take up arms and attack the enemy singlehandedly. Placing all his trust in God, the lone soldier threw himself against the Tatar host crying 'Most Holy Mother of God, help me!' He was quickly surrounded and cut down, and it appeared that his action had been as foolhardy as it had seemed, when a woman at the head of a glorious host, all of them surrounded by light, appeared and threw back the Tatar army. The next morning the people of Smolensk found the ground covered with the bodies of their enemies. They buried Mercurius in the Cathedral, where he has been venerated as a Martyr ever since.

He was a soldier from Byzantium, one of the defenders of Smolensk when it was besieged by the Tatars in 1238. One day the Mother of God appeared to Mercurius and told him that the Tatars were preparing a surprise attack — and, further, that he must take up arms and attack the enemy singlehandedly. Placing all his trust in God, the lone soldier threw himself against the Tatar host crying 'Most Holy Mother of God, help me!' He was quickly surrounded and cut down, and it appeared that his action had been as foolhardy as it had seemed, when a woman at the head of a glorious host, all of them surrounded by light, appeared and threw back the Tatar army. The next morning the people of Smolensk found the ground covered with the bodies of their enemies. They buried Mercurius in the Cathedral, where he has been venerated as a Martyr ever since.

PREVIEW Risks of Placing Small Modular Nuclear Reactors in Military Bases Henry Sokolski Henry Sokolski addressed the Pentagon's Janice program, which planned to deploy very small nuclear reactors on military bases. Major concerns included the need for absolutely perfect air defenses and the threat posed by drones. Because of these issues, the Army ultimately decided not to place the micro-reactors on any forward bases.

Episode 240Primary teacher Meghan Hein shares how she keeps the text front and center of learning. She discusses the shift from a skills-based focus to an approach where meaning-making drives instruction. The conversation highlights practical strategies for teachers to build knowledge through texts and create a more authentic learning experience. Meghan's insights reflect a commitment to continuous learning and adapting teaching practices to better serve students' needs.✨ You'll definitely want to listen to the podcast that inspired this conversation! Episode 37 with Sue Pimentel and Meredith Liben dives into their article Placing Text at the Center of the Standards-Aligned ELA Classroom.TakeawaysShifting from skill-based to meaning-making instruction is crucial.Building knowledge through texts is essential for comprehension.Teachers must empower themselves through continuous learning.Curriculum should support, not dictate, teaching practices.Understanding the intent behind texts enriches the learning experience.Interleaving skills and content enhances understanding.Students thrive when they connect learning to real-world contexts.Resources Refreshed Companion Episode with Meredith Liben & Sue Pimentel (podcast)Placing Text at the Center of the Standards-Aligned ELA Classroom (article) Teacher Meghan Hein on Instagram (you might know her as always more to learn!) We answer your questions about teaching reading in The Literacy 50-A Q&A Handbook for Teachers: Real-World Answers to Questions About Reading That Keep You Up at Night.Grab free resources and episode alerts! Sign up for our email list at literacypodcast.com.Join our community on Facebook, and follow us on Instagram, Facebook, & Twitter.

The world will tell you to get all you can and store it for a rainy day. Every day people push you to work harder and harder. The ways of the world will lead you to believe that you have to look out for yourself and no one else. With each spent effort you begin to feel the pride of the world and start to lose sight of the blessings of God. Before you know it, you have overlooked God's hand in your life and have stolen His glory and placed it upon yourself as you claim to be in control of all that is in your life. As you take control of your life you quickly lose sight of the importance of others. Please join us in this broadcast of Woman at the Well Ministries as Kim discusses the demise of the rich man in Luke 12 as he puffs up himself and neglects the important things of life. Do you want to connect with Kim and Erika? Visit us on our website, on Facebook, or on Instagram.  Mentioned in this Episode Luke 12:15–21 – Parable of the rich fool www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke+12%3A15-21&version=KJV Proverbs 16:18 – "Pride goeth before destruction..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+16%3A18&version=KJV Exodus 20:17 – "Thou shalt not covet..." (10th Commandment) www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Exodus+20%3A17&version=KJV Revelation 20:15 – "Whosoever was not found written in the book of life..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Revelation+20%3A15&version=KJV Joshua 24:15 – "Choose you this day whom ye will serve..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Joshua+24%3A15&version=KJV John 14:6 – "I am the way, the truth, and the life..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John+14%3A6&version=KJV John 3:3, 7 – "Ye must be born again..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John+3%3A3%2C7&version=KJV Romans 6:14 – "Sin shall not have dominion over you..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+6%3A14&version=KJV 1 Peter 5:6 – "Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Peter+5%3A6&version=KJV Job 1:1, 20–22 – Job's integrity in prosperity and suffering www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Job+1%3A1%2C20-22&version=KJV 1 Peter 1:8 – "Joy unspeakable and full of glory" www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Peter+1%3A8&version=KJV 2 Corinthians 5:1 – "A house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens" www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2+Corinthians+5%3A1&version=KJV Romans 8:28 – "All things work together for good..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+8%3A28&version=KJV Proverbs 22:6 – "Train up a child in the way he should go..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+22%3A6&version=KJV Luke 15:11–32 – Parable of the prodigal son www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke+15%3A11-32&version=KJV Hebrews 11:6 – "Without faith it is impossible to please him..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Hebrews+11%3A6&version=KJV Psalm 37:25 – "I have been young, and now am old..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+37%3A25&version=KJV Philippians 4:13 – "I can do all things through Christ..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Philippians+4%3A13&version=KJV Philippians 4:19 – "My God shall supply all your need..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Philippians+4%3A19&version=KJV 1 Corinthians 10:13 – "God is faithful... will not suffer you to be tempted..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Corinthians+10%3A13&version=KJV 1 Corinthians 1:9 – "God is faithful..." www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Corinthians+1%3A9&version=KJV Did you enjoy this podcast? Post a review and share it! If you enjoyed tuning into this podcast, then do not hesitate to write a review. You can listen to us on all major podcasting platforms like Apple Podcasts,  Spotify,  Google Podcasts,  YouTube, and Podbean. Check out Kim's latest Bible Bit book on Amazon! Do you want to bring Kim Miller to your church, upcoming retreat, or conference? Contact us! This podcast is brought to you by Woman at the Well Ministries and is supported by our faithful listeners. To support this podcast, please visit our support page. 

We have two segments with Wild hockey boss Bill Guerin before a conversation about some bad economic numbers for Minnesota and where responsibility for the economic failures can be placed.

From the 1720s to the 1940s, parents in the kingdom and later colony of Dahomey (now the Republic of Benin) developed and sustained the common practice of girl fostering, or "entrusting." Transferring their daughters at a young age into foster homes, Dahomeans created complex relationships of mutual obligation, kinship, and caregiving that also exploited girls' labor for the economic benefit of the women who acted as their social mothers. Drawing upon oral tradition, historic images, and collective memories, Jessica Reuther pieces together the fragmentary glimpses of girls' lives contained in colonial archives within the framework of traditional understandings about entrustment. Placing these girls and their social mothers at the center of history brings to light their core contributions to local and global political economies, even as the Dahomean monarchy, global trade, and colonial courts reshaped girlhood norms and fostering practices. In The Bonds of Kinship in Dahomey: Portraits of West African Girlhood, 1720–1940 (Indiana UP, 2025) Reuther reveals that the social, economic, and political changes wrought by the expansion of Dahomey in the eighteenth century, the shift to "legitimate" trade in agricultural products in the nineteenth century, and the imposition of French colonialism in the twentieth all fundamentally altered—and were altered by—the intimate practice of entrusting female children between households. Dahomeans also valorized this process as a crucial component of being "well-raised"—a sentiment that continues into the present, despite widespread Beninese opposition to modern-day forms of child labor. Dr. Jessica Reuther is an associate professor of African and world history at Ball State University in Muncie, Indiana, USA. She came to Ball State after earning her PhD in African History from Emory University in Atlanta, GA, in 2016. Dr. Reuther is a historian of Africa, specializing in Atlantic West Africa and French West Africa from the 16th century to the present. She has conducted archival and oral history research in Benin, Senegal, France, Switzerland, and the United States. You can learn more about her work here. Afua Baafi Quarshie is a Ph.D. candidate in history at the Johns Hopkins University. Her research focuses on mothering and childhood in post-independence Ghana. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

From the 1720s to the 1940s, parents in the kingdom and later colony of Dahomey (now the Republic of Benin) developed and sustained the common practice of girl fostering, or "entrusting." Transferring their daughters at a young age into foster homes, Dahomeans created complex relationships of mutual obligation, kinship, and caregiving that also exploited girls' labor for the economic benefit of the women who acted as their social mothers. Drawing upon oral tradition, historic images, and collective memories, Jessica Reuther pieces together the fragmentary glimpses of girls' lives contained in colonial archives within the framework of traditional understandings about entrustment. Placing these girls and their social mothers at the center of history brings to light their core contributions to local and global political economies, even as the Dahomean monarchy, global trade, and colonial courts reshaped girlhood norms and fostering practices. In The Bonds of Kinship in Dahomey: Portraits of West African Girlhood, 1720–1940 (Indiana UP, 2025) Reuther reveals that the social, economic, and political changes wrought by the expansion of Dahomey in the eighteenth century, the shift to "legitimate" trade in agricultural products in the nineteenth century, and the imposition of French colonialism in the twentieth all fundamentally altered—and were altered by—the intimate practice of entrusting female children between households. Dahomeans also valorized this process as a crucial component of being "well-raised"—a sentiment that continues into the present, despite widespread Beninese opposition to modern-day forms of child labor. Dr. Jessica Reuther is an associate professor of African and world history at Ball State University in Muncie, Indiana, USA. She came to Ball State after earning her PhD in African History from Emory University in Atlanta, GA, in 2016. Dr. Reuther is a historian of Africa, specializing in Atlantic West Africa and French West Africa from the 16th century to the present. She has conducted archival and oral history research in Benin, Senegal, France, Switzerland, and the United States. You can learn more about her work here. Afua Baafi Quarshie is a Ph.D. candidate in history at the Johns Hopkins University. Her research focuses on mothering and childhood in post-independence Ghana. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

From the 1720s to the 1940s, parents in the kingdom and later colony of Dahomey (now the Republic of Benin) developed and sustained the common practice of girl fostering, or "entrusting." Transferring their daughters at a young age into foster homes, Dahomeans created complex relationships of mutual obligation, kinship, and caregiving that also exploited girls' labor for the economic benefit of the women who acted as their social mothers. Drawing upon oral tradition, historic images, and collective memories, Jessica Reuther pieces together the fragmentary glimpses of girls' lives contained in colonial archives within the framework of traditional understandings about entrustment. Placing these girls and their social mothers at the center of history brings to light their core contributions to local and global political economies, even as the Dahomean monarchy, global trade, and colonial courts reshaped girlhood norms and fostering practices. In The Bonds of Kinship in Dahomey: Portraits of West African Girlhood, 1720–1940 (Indiana UP, 2025) Reuther reveals that the social, economic, and political changes wrought by the expansion of Dahomey in the eighteenth century, the shift to "legitimate" trade in agricultural products in the nineteenth century, and the imposition of French colonialism in the twentieth all fundamentally altered—and were altered by—the intimate practice of entrusting female children between households. Dahomeans also valorized this process as a crucial component of being "well-raised"—a sentiment that continues into the present, despite widespread Beninese opposition to modern-day forms of child labor. Dr. Jessica Reuther is an associate professor of African and world history at Ball State University in Muncie, Indiana, USA. She came to Ball State after earning her PhD in African History from Emory University in Atlanta, GA, in 2016. Dr. Reuther is a historian of Africa, specializing in Atlantic West Africa and French West Africa from the 16th century to the present. She has conducted archival and oral history research in Benin, Senegal, France, Switzerland, and the United States. You can learn more about her work here. Afua Baafi Quarshie is a Ph.D. candidate in history at the Johns Hopkins University. Her research focuses on mothering and childhood in post-independence Ghana. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/gender-studies

From the 1720s to the 1940s, parents in the kingdom and later colony of Dahomey (now the Republic of Benin) developed and sustained the common practice of girl fostering, or "entrusting." Transferring their daughters at a young age into foster homes, Dahomeans created complex relationships of mutual obligation, kinship, and caregiving that also exploited girls' labor for the economic benefit of the women who acted as their social mothers. Drawing upon oral tradition, historic images, and collective memories, Jessica Reuther pieces together the fragmentary glimpses of girls' lives contained in colonial archives within the framework of traditional understandings about entrustment. Placing these girls and their social mothers at the center of history brings to light their core contributions to local and global political economies, even as the Dahomean monarchy, global trade, and colonial courts reshaped girlhood norms and fostering practices. In The Bonds of Kinship in Dahomey: Portraits of West African Girlhood, 1720–1940 (Indiana UP, 2025) Reuther reveals that the social, economic, and political changes wrought by the expansion of Dahomey in the eighteenth century, the shift to "legitimate" trade in agricultural products in the nineteenth century, and the imposition of French colonialism in the twentieth all fundamentally altered—and were altered by—the intimate practice of entrusting female children between households. Dahomeans also valorized this process as a crucial component of being "well-raised"—a sentiment that continues into the present, despite widespread Beninese opposition to modern-day forms of child labor. Dr. Jessica Reuther is an associate professor of African and world history at Ball State University in Muncie, Indiana, USA. She came to Ball State after earning her PhD in African History from Emory University in Atlanta, GA, in 2016. Dr. Reuther is a historian of Africa, specializing in Atlantic West Africa and French West Africa from the 16th century to the present. She has conducted archival and oral history research in Benin, Senegal, France, Switzerland, and the United States. You can learn more about her work here. Afua Baafi Quarshie is a Ph.D. candidate in history at the Johns Hopkins University. Her research focuses on mothering and childhood in post-independence Ghana. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/african-studies

Episode 37 The article Placing Text at the Center of the Standards-Aligned ELA Classroom is a must-read — before or after you listen to this episode!Meredith Liben and Sue Pimentel join us to unpack the true intentions behind the Common Core State Standards and how they've sometimes been misinterpreted in practice. They share what they've observed in classrooms and schools — both when high-quality instructional materials (HQIM) are in place and when they're not.We also ask them some tough (and important!) questions:What does this mean for assessment, especially “data-driven” instruction?What are better ways to assess and track student progress?Meredith and Sue are smart, funny, and incredibly relatable — you'll love this conversation. It's truly a must-listen episode!

Questions? Comments? We love feedback! Email us at info@baishavaad.org 

PREVIEW. Marine Corps Strategy in the Western Pacific Against China. Colonel Grant Newsham, United States Marine Corps retired, discusses Marine Corps planning for deployment in East Asia if China attacks Taiwan. Current plans prioritize placing small missile units on Pacific islands to target Chinese ships. Newsham is unhappy, noting this focus reduces the Marines' versatility and ability to conduct other missions, such as humanitarian assistance or seizing key terrain. 1968 GUADALCANAL ISLAND

This is an Impact Pricing Blog published on September 1, 2025, turned into an audio podcast so you can listen on the go. Read Full Article Here: https://impactpricing.com/blog/packaging-ai-structuring-features-and-placing-ai-in-offers/ If you have any feedback, definitely send it. You can reach us at mark@impactpricing.com.  Now, go make an impact.   Connect with Mark Stiving: Email: mark@impactpricing.com LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/stiving/

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Gene Zannetti talks with Olympic Champion Kendall Cross about breaking down opponents with sport intelligence, placing low value on failures to stay optimistic, and why being motivated to compete matters more than being the best athlete.Timestamps:2:50 - Positive outlook and optimistic mindset4:01 - Being a cerebral wrestler without elite athleticism8:04 - Early influences9:55 - Demystifying the Olympic process12:40 - Naysayers doubting the unorthodox style16:35 - Social media's impact on young wrestlers today21:30 - High motivation to compete drives success23:30 - Placing low value on failures and mistakes

Ever sold a puppy to a buyer and regretted it? Many things can happen when working with the general public and dogs, sometimes we get it wrong. In this episode we'll discuss what can happen to make it go wrong and help you determine which of these situations makes you a bad breeder and what you can do about it.  Looking for a community of breeders who will support you through the good and the bad? Join the Dog Breeder Society, the only place where breeders genuinely support each other in all aspects of their business. We have everyone from new breeders to seasoned breeders who have been breeding for decades.  Learn more at honestdogbreeder.com/dogbreedersociety

Send us a textPioneering technology executive and Leadership Vision advisor Deb Dixson joins Nathan to unpack how leaders move teams from dependence on one person to interdependence—through mission clarity (“we sell lettuce”), Strengths-based roles, and a culture where fast, safe learning is encouraged. Drawing on her 30+ years as a CISO, CIO, and executive coach, Deb shares stories of building resilient teams, empowering others to lead, and offering timeless guidance for leaders navigating change.Deb also wrote the forward to Unfolded, and we are so grateful for her continued investment in our team.What we discussFrom hero to builder: Why great leaders aim to make themselves unnecessary—and how Deb did it.Mission clarity: Connecting daily work to the outcome (“we sell lettuce”) so everyone sees how they serve the customer.Strengths in action: Placing people where they're wired to excel; using a common language to handle conflict and change.Safe failure → faster learning: Celebrating responsible experiments, shortening feedback loops, and avoiding “death-march” projects.Finding the gaps: Spotting unowned work and empowering people to own it (including Deb's CISO origin story).Resources & LinksLeadership Vision Consulting – services, podcast, newsletter: https://www.leadershipvisionconsulting.comUnfolded: Lessons in Transformation from an Origami Crane (Brian & Dr. Linda Schubring)CliftonStrengths (StrengthsFinder)Dale Carnegie trainingConnect with us on social & subscribe to the podcast

Acts 9:1-191 Meanwhile, Saul was still breathing out murderous threats against the Lord's disciples. He went to the high priest 2 and asked him for letters to the synagogues in Damascus, so that if he found any there who belonged to the Way, whether men or women, he might take them as prisoners to Jerusalem. 3 As he neared Damascus on his journey, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. 4 He fell to the ground and heard a voice say to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”5 “Who are you, Lord?” Saul asked. “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,” he replied. 6 “Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.”7 The men traveling with Saul stood there speechless; they heard the sound but did not see anyone. 8 Saul got up from the ground, but when he opened his eyes he could see nothing. So they led him by the hand into Damascus. 9 For three days he was blind, and did not eat or drink anything.10 In Damascus there was a disciple named Ananias. The Lord called to him in a vision, “Ananias!” “Yes, Lord,” he answered.11 The Lord told him, “Go to the house of Judas on Straight Street and ask for a man from Tarsus named Saul, for he is praying. 12 In a vision he has seen a man named Ananias come and place his hands on him to restore his sight.”13 “Lord,” Ananias answered, “I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your holy people in Jerusalem. 14 And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call on your name.”15 But the Lord said to Ananias, “Go! This man is my chosen instrument to proclaim my name to the Gentiles and their kings and to the people of Israel. 16 I will show him how much he must suffer for my name.”17 Then Ananias went to the house and entered it. Placing his hands on Saul, he said, “Brother Saul, the Lord—Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you were coming here—has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” 18 Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul's eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptized, 19 and after taking some food, he regained his strength.

Episode Summary: This episode of the Rich Mind Podcast tackles one of the biggest hidden sources of unhappiness: our expectations. Randy and Greg explore the "happiness gap"—the space between our current reality and the future we expect—and how this gap dictates our level of satisfaction in life. They discuss the two primary forms of toxic expectations: those we place on others (often leading to disappointment) and the unrealistic, self-imposed expectations we place on ourselves (often leading to burnout and self-sabotage). Drawing on wisdom from Jim Rohn and Earl Nightingale, this conversation is a guide to letting go of rigid outcomes, practicing gratitude for the present, and cultivating a healthy sense of expectancy for a great future without being attached to the details.   Key Takeaways:   Your level of happiness is determined by the size of the gap between your expectations and your current reality.   Placing rigid expectations on other people is a setup for disappointment, as you cannot control their actions. We often carry childhood disappointments (like Randy's Trans Am story) into our adult lives, creating a paradigm of expecting the worst. There is a crucial difference between having high standards and having unrealistic, self-sabotaging expectations of yourself. You can't force inspiration or progress; sometimes, the most productive thing you can do is give yourself grace and relax. A powerful framework for a happy life, from Earl Nightingale, is to combine daily gratitude for what you have with a positive expectancy for what's to come. A great journal prompt to uncover hidden frustrations is: "What expectation is driving my frustration right now?"   Questions Answered in This Episode:   How do our expectations directly affect our happiness? Why is placing expectations on other people a recipe for disappointment? How can you stop setting unrealistic expectations for yourself? What is the difference between healthy expectancy and toxic expectations? How can you give yourself grace without losing your drive to achieve? What did Earl Nightingale mean by "gratitude and expectancy"? How can journaling help you identify and manage your expectations? How do you find the balance between having ambitious goals and being happy in the present moment?   Key People, Concepts, & Terms:   People: Randy Wilson, Greg Junge, Jim Rohn, Earl Nightingale. Concepts: Expectations, Happiness Gap, Disappointment, Self-Sabotage, Gratitude, Expectancy, Grace, Personal Development, Journaling, Paradigms. Programs Mentioned: Challenge to Succeed (Jim Rohn), Lead the Field (Earl Nightingale).   Key Episode Timestamps   00:00 - Introduction: The Happiness Gap Between Expectations and Reality 03:23 - The Core Question: Should We Even Have Expectations of Other People? 04:20 - A Powerful Story: Randy's Trans Am and the Pain of Childhood Disappointment 09:46 - The Danger of Relying on Expectations vs. Simply Allowing 11:15 - The Wisdom of Giving Without Expecting Anything in Return 15:15 - Key Insight: Are Your Self-Imposed Expectations Sabotaging Your Joy? 18:30 - What Do You Truly Want vs. What Do You Expect? 19:30 - Earl Nightingale's Formula: The Power of Gratitude + Expectancy 22:37 - An Actionable Tool: A Journal Prompt to Uncover Your Frustrations 25:00 - A Real-Life Example of Giving Yourself Grace (The Podcast Deadline) 31:31 - It's Your Choice: Don't Let Expectations Be Chosen For You

34 charged in NBA, poker gambling cases include Chauncey Billups, Terry Rozier and alleged mob figures. Placing the blame for the government shutdown. Trump says he's ending trade talks with Canada over TV ads. Friday Sound Salad. Chad's Wheel of Surprise. Chad's Scary Movie Countdown #6. Trump says he "may go back to Congress" on Venezuela land strikes. Zach Abraham, Bulwark Capital, talks about the AI bubble. Latest inflation numbers. Jim Kennedy, Kennedy Institute for Public Policy Research, talks Trumps plans for Venezuela. 

DHS says Cartels have been placing bounties on the heads of ICE agents. Trump announced that the US smoked another drug boat, the 4th one so far. ICE arrested an illegal alien pedophile in Virginia. The State Department revoked six visas of people who celebrated Charlie Kirk's assassination. Oregon is giving illegal aliens healthcare costing more than the budget of the State Police. President Trump officially posthumously awarded Charlie Kirk with the Presidential Medal of Freedom.   Join UNGOVERNED on LFA TV every MONDAY - FRIDAY from 10am to 11am EASTERN!    www.FarashMedia.com www.LFATV.us www.OFPFarms.com www.SLNT.com/SHAWN    

Greg Bishop shares the latest news release from the U.S. Department of Homeland Security about bounties being put on the heads of federal law enforcement by criminal networks from Mexico and the ongoing debate about public safety and immigration enforcement in Chicago and beyond. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Send us a textBridging climate science and the classroom can start with a simple walk to a place that matters. In this episode, we talk with Kristin Valle Geren—former elementary teacher, now a doctoral candidate and research assistant with the Stories-To-Live-By collective—to explore how story and place help children make sense of climate change in their own communities. Kristen shares how “Explorers Club” invites elementary students to read the world around them: snapping photos by the Hillsborough River, mapping school grounds, composing social media-style videos, and asking the questions adults often miss. A small linguistic shift—asking what “matters” rather than what's “important”—unlocks personal stories and genuine curiosity, turning observations into research and narratives.From Hurricane Irma's lingering impact in the Florida Keys to slow, uneven recovery across tourism economies, we trace climate as a lived, local reality that shows up in housing, work, and daily routines—not just in headlines.If you're curious about how you might integrate climate literacy without overhauling your curriculum, this conversation offers concrete moves, hope, and a path forward rooted in eco-justice, local knowledge, and the everyday literacies students already use.Kristin Valle Geren is a doctoral candidate in the Literacy Studies program in the College of Education at the University of South Florida and the Graduate Research Assistant for the Stories-to-Live-by Collective. Before beginning her doctoral studies, Kristin taught elementary school and worked as a literacy coach in Tampa, Florida. Specifically, she worked in the community where she now engages in community-based educational research in an after school program with elementary-aged youth. As a child, Kristin's family moved often due to her father's military service, but she has lived in Florida for over 20 years now - all of her adult life. She came to the Stories-to-Live-By project through her interest in the ways children and teachers make sense of the places in which they live and teach and the possibilities of placemaking literacies for exploring issues of climate crisis. You can read about Kristin and Alex's collaborative work here: Geren, K. V., & Panos, A. (2025). Perspectives on Practice: A Walk along Our River: Naming and Placing as a Start to Climate and Ecojustice Literacies Inquiry. Language Arts, 102(4), 274–278. https://doi.org/10.58680/la20251024190Connect with Classroom Caffeine at www.classroomcaffeine.com or on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, and LinkedIn.

Andy Wardlaw is a talent advisor who has placed a number of visionaries across sectors and across the world. He's also seen how talent acquisition and placement has changed as technologies have come and gone. This week Tammy and Andy discuss how to spot creative tech talent and how to recognize if they will be successful in their new transformational roles. They also discuss how leaders can lean in and leverage AI to bridge the gap between creativity and technology. Please note that the views expressed may not necessarily be those of NTT DATALearn more about Launch by NTT DATASee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

HEADLINE: The Missile Gap Drives Operation Anadyr in Cuba GUEST NAME: Professor Serhii Plokhy BOOK TITLE: Nuclear Folly TOPIC: Accidental War Warning SUMMARY: Khrushchev conceived the idea of placing missiles in Cuba during a trip to Bulgaria, responding to US Jupiter missiles in Turkey. This deployment, Operation Anadyr, aimed to quickly solve the strategic missile gap favoring the United States. Khrushchev chose cavalryman Ivan Pliyev of North Ossetia to command the operation, valuing his loyalty and multi-unit experience. Over 40,000 unprepared Soviet troops were deployeD.   1962 CUBA