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 My first time with Cosplay Beth. By Thintri - listen to the podcast at Steamy Stories. She stood there, waiting impatiently for the delicious meat to slide into her eager hands. She looked forward to having it in her mouth later, I could tell. She continued to caress her belly and nibble on a fingernail as she waited impatiently.She stood around 5'4" in her Converse sneakers. She wore a black pair of boot-cut jeans and a gray tee that read “Never tell me the odds!” and had a set of red, tumbling dice and a star-fighter with four wings in the shape of an “X” sitting above a plate held up by a small plastic pole  The tee was super tight around her breasts, but I didn't notice any bra lines. I would guess she was a 36C or D. Her hips were just as wide and her ass complimented her full hips and busty chest. Her hair reminded me of that Scottish Disney movie princess, all wild and fire red. Her skin was extremely fair, like she would to burst into flames if she stepped outside. She didn't look much older than the drinking age, a good decade or more younger than me. Another adult millennial in the big city. “Seventy Three!” She pounced and grabbed the too thick package and examined it in her suddenly small hands. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and you could almost see saliva well up in the corner of her mouth. I needed to step in before she made a terrible mistake. “Excuse me. That's my Butt.” I said. “I beg your pardon?!” She responded incredulously. “Seventy Three?.. Your holding my Boston Butt.” I said, holding the ticket for her to see. “Oh, right. I'm sorry. I'm in a different world today.” “You actually look really hungry. Are you going to have time to cook or are you going to eat something raw here in the store? I'll have that Butt now.” I said holding my hands out. “Your butt is so big! Erm… I mean…” She said as she handed it over and I placed it in my cart. “Yeah, What's a bachelor going to do with all this food, right? I'm actually hosting a game night for my friends tomorrow. There will be seven of us total. Eight, if you'd like to have a taste of this Butt.” I said making “Butt” sound more like an actual innuendo this time. “T.J.” I added, extending my hand. “Beth. Pleased to meet you, T.J. What's that stand for?” She said, shaking my out-reached hand in a delicate manner. “Thaddeus Junior. ‘Thad' sounds too douchey.” “What do they call your father?” “Thad…” I said, rolling my eyes sheepishly. “But he's too old to even pretend to act like a douche. He would have no idea where to start.” “Oh, well that's good. I bet he showed you how to be a real gentleman.” She said with a slight giggle in her voice. “He showed me how to rub a butt properly, that's for sure.” “Pardon?!” She said eyes wide again. “Barbeque… dry rub? A good rub down and then moisten it up later.” “Oh, yeah… Right…” “So… Wanna come over tomorrow and join my party? You'd even out the group.” “I don't see why not. Could be fun, right?” “Splendid! That means you'll have to come over tonight to get your character squared away and maybe help prep for dinner? I promise I'll feed you tonight, too. I have flank steaks marinating.” “Oh, I don't know…” “You'll have my address and you can tell all of your friends where you'll be. There's even a doorman and a security camera in the lobby.” “Oh. That sounded well-rehearsed. Invite a lot of ladies home, do you?” She asked suspiciously. “No ma'am. I just want your mind at ease.” I lied with my hands up in a disarming manner. My response was also rehearsed, but it worked like a charm. “Tell me about the marinade.” She said slowly, squinting her eyes and nodding her head up at me. “It's a lazy meal night. It's just a store bought Italian dressing, but I add some of this and that. I was thinking maybe use my indoor grill or broil them. Do you have a preference?” I said trying to sink the hook in deeper. I'm not going to broil a steak. That's ridiculous. “Grill it!” “Agreed. So I'll see you at 6:30 then?” “Yeah. Sounds good.” Hook, Line, and Sinker. “Eighty Three!” said the butcher. “I think you're eighty three.” I said pointing at the ticket in her basket at her feet.“ “Oh. That's me!” She said turning towards the counter. We exchanged information and I gave her my address so we could meet up later. I was actually quite excited about making a new hot friend and maybe even more than that. I'm not the type of guy to jump into bed with just anybody. I really wanted to get to know her and see where in my life she might fit. 6:45 rolled around and I finally got a text from Beth: “Hey, Sorry. The train was running late and there's no cell service down there. I'm walking up to street level now. I'll be at your place in Ten minutes. Is there anything you want me to pick up?” I responded: “Hey, glad you're on the way. I was worried you split on me or worse. All I have is vanilla ice cream and toppings for dessert. If that's not good enough, we can walk around the block and get an Italian Ice from the pizza shop. Is red wine okay with the steaks? If not, I have beer. Should I let the wine breathe or would you rather beer?” She responded: “Italian Icies! And beer, please. Wine feels too formal. [Winky emoji] Be up in five.” She wasn't kidding about the train running slow. The news interrupted my background show. There was a brown out on my line that took 20 minutes to fix. One train was in emergency lighting the whole time. I already called ahead downstairs for the doorman to let my new friend up. He needed to send her up manually because she didn't have a key fob to my apartment. The elevator opened to each unit, but they all had entryways prior to the front door. It was a private place to take off wet clothes and hang jackets and kick off shoes before entering. I left the front door open and she let herself in. “Hello? TJ?” “In the kitchen.” “Hey!” She said, giving me a friendly hug. She smelled like strawberries. I also took a good look at her while were chit-chatted. She wore a Falmouth Falcons Jersey and a matching pleated skirt. She had on short two or three inch heels on that had open toes and matched her outfit well. She quickly discarded them and left them in the hall outside of the front door and closed it behind her. She also put a pair of clips in her hair, leaving the right side of her neck exposed. “I was just about to text you to ask how you like your steak cooked?” “Medium. It's okay if it's a little rare, just don't cook it too much, please.” “Oh, that makes it easier on me. I can put them on around the same time.” “Do you need any help with the cooking?” “Umm… Did you want the potatoes mashed, or as is?” “Hmm… Nah. We can leave them like that. They look done, too.” She said, looking into the pot. “Fork ready!” I said stabbing at them. I went ahead and strained them while Beth flipped the steaks. I also served up a helping of corn for each of us and added the potatoes. “How do they look?” She asked me, pointing to the steaks. I poked at one with my finger and pushed until I felt it push back. “Feels about Medium rare. Maybe another minute on that side.” I said. Beth took it upon herself to grab two beers from the fridge. I was just about done with my second, so it was good timing on her part. “This looks interesting. ‘Axel Rogues' P.O.'d India Pale Ale'? Is it new?” “It's from a brewery a couple of my friends partially own. They send it up from the Alabama Coast for me. They might be giving me a bit of a drinking problem.” I said in jest. “Isn't it bad to have cartoon characters on your beer labels? Something about advertising to minors?” “It's a promotional thing. Only a few of those labels were printed. It was mostly for investors and the grand opening a few weeks back.” “Oh. This tastes pretty good!” She said, wide-eyed. I was told it's a bit of a panty dropper, but I wasn't telling her that. “Yeah. It's got a lot of subtle tastes that the female focus groups enjoyed. The male groups said it's refreshing, but might be too easy to drink. Hence my problem.” I kidded again, even though it was true. Dinner went by pretty quickly and we both cleared our plates and then dumped the dishes in the washer. She was on her third beer and I had just finished my fourth. “Would you like another or maybe a Manhattan?” I asked, trying to grease her wheels some. “Can you make a White Manhattan?” She asked. It felt more like a test. “Sure. Is Hudson okay?” I asked, volleying her serve. “That'd be perfect!” She said all too eagerly. Beth went ahead and wiped the table down and moved some of the settings aside to make room for us to work. She had brought her messenger bag and pulled out a large Velcro binder with a few gaming books. I was actually impressed with her line of questioning and her surprising neatness. We decided that one of her old characters, a Human Monk, was a good fit for the group and I gave her the run-down of the story so far, as best as I could remember. She wasn't surprised by the content being sexual in nature. Lots of groups add a sexy/romantic spin thanks to modern fantasy movies and books. One girl in the group, Adrienne, had to re-roll after a death because she decided to fight her way out of an Orc rape scene rather than lose her purity. She was playing a Paladin at the time, so it was pretty fitting. She did set fire to the camp site and take out a few Orcs before she died, though. It was pretty awesome. She re-rolled into a rogue who was her last toon's “Black Sheep” sister; she was a very pissed off rogue. We completely forgot about going out for Icies and decided to chat some more about the group and where I felt the story might lead. I noticed in my peripheral vision that her nipples started to show through her tight shirt. My apartment isn't that cold. I like it to be around seventy six degrees. The air is humidity controlled, so the extra A/C isn't needed. The conversation slid over to her cosplay hobby and how devout she is to it. She whipped out her phone and swiped through several characters she's played at conventions and ren faires. She's even done some minor MeTube shorts in character. We were sitting side-by-side, nearly shoulder to shoulder as she swiped. One particular picture was done in a mirror “selfie” fashion. She was wearing a very tight corset dress that was blue and white, similar to a very familiar droid we all know and love. Her breasts were practically pouring out of her top and her hand was between her legs in a provocative manner. “Whoops… You weren't supposed to see that… Sorry” “Hey now… You should share with the rest of the class, Missy.” I said leaning in closer to her and her phone. “Okay, but they really aren't much to look at. Really.” She said modestly. The pics varied from lingerie to sexy cosplay back to lingerie. Some were topless, but her free hand covered her nipples. There was still an eye-full of side and under boob, though. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.” She demanded playfully. I had several shirtless gym “Swole” pics as well as a few cosplay pics, too. None as flattering as her pictures, but she seemed pleased with them. She was definitely excited about my picture with me wearing a Fez and bow tie. As I got up for another drink, I opted to switch back to beer. I offered her one over her shoulder and she took it, letting her hand linger on mine, not taking the bottle, though. She let the cold glass rub her neck and shoulder, and when she finally took it, she pulled me into a bent over, sideways kiss. I'm pretty sure she was feeling similar fireworks to mine. I went ahead and climbed over the couch, letting our head bump in the process. We giggled as we put our beers down and started making out like ninth graders. I was being a complete gentleman and let my hands fall on her face and neck as we kissed. Her hands were in similar places, but soon explored down to my chest. I kept it cool and let her do her thing while both of my hands were now working her neck and tangled in her hair. She reached up and pulled her clips out so I didn't pull on her hair the wrong way. I kept up my aggressive assault above her shoulders as she continued to grope my chest and stomach over my shirt. I was wearing a light, loose button-down and low-rise dark blue jeans. Her hands explored more while undoing a button or two. Her left hand snaked into the opening and now rubbed my chest more over my ribbed tank tee underneath. Once all my buttons were undone, I took some initiative and grabbed her under her thighs and pulled her into my lap. She was now kneeling on both sides of my pelvis. We only broke the kiss long enough to discard my top and then my undershirt. My hands were now under her tee shirt, caressing her back. My fingers roamed and slid over where her bra strap would have been. She felt my mouth peak at the sides in a little smile at that. She giggled and pulled her tee off and tossed it to the adjacent love seat. We were sitting bare chest to bare chest as she started moving her hips in a subtle rocking motion on my lap. My hands found her breasts as I continued to molest her tongue with mine. My cock was rock hard and rubbing against her pussy though my jeans and thin fabric of her underwear. She started undoing my belt and pants as I worked on unbuttoning her skirt and pulling the hip zipper down one handed as my mouth found her right breast. Her strawberry scent was so much stronger with my face in her chest. It was driving me crazy. “Take them off.” She said breathlessly, standing up and discarding her skirt, adding it to her tee. I hopped my butt up and pulled my pants off without standing. She was standing between my legs and I would have prolly head-butted her again if I tried to stand. I decided to leave my boxer briefs on to match her level of dress. She sat back down straddling my lap again, only leaving more room between our pelvises this time. My mouth found her left breast as she blindly reached into the opening of my shorts. I was cupping her left breast with my right hand as my left hand began to fondle her right ass cheek. She was wearing a g-string. My hand would squeeze her ass and slide between her cheeks and back to squeezing again. She gasped as she grabbed my cock with her hand. She couldn't see it past my head or through my shorts, but she was certainly pleased with it's size and current level of petrification. She knelt on her left knee and tried to slide my shorts down. I miscued my attempt at helping by hopping my butt again and we head- butted again. We giggled, took a drink and she took my shorts off and took her place back in my lap again. This time, she was crushing my cock against her slit, covered by the tiniest triangle of fabric I've ever seen… Or felt for that matter. Her rocking increased and she was now dry-humping my cock. I could feel her moistness lubricating my dick through her g-string. My pre-cum was starting to bubble over my mushroom cap. Her nails dug into my chest. I didn't notice them until now… They were French tipped and matched her Quidditch jersey. My hands were both on her ass now, as my fingers were sliding up and down her crack and slipping under the thin thread. Her breathing became ragged as my fingers found her drenched pussy from behind. One hand was holding her string aside and her pussy open for me. My right hand found her opening and clit as she rocked back. She started to cum, grinding harder onto me. She called out my name as she climaxed and crumpled onto my chest. Her head on my shoulder. She was panting hard. My fingers continued to rub her from behind softly, easing several after shocks out of her. “Excuse me a moment.” She finally said through choppy breaths. She made her way to the hallway bath and I took the opportunity to grab a condom from the coffee table drawer. I had just enough time to tear one free from the rest and tuck it into the side of the couch cushion when the bathroom door opened up. Her face and chest were flushed, and she still wobbled a little when she walked. It was a combination of her orgasm and the alcohol, I guess. She was holding her g-string in one hand. Her pussy was clean shaven except for a thin trail of red pubic hair just above her clit hood. My dick jumped in approval. “What are we going to do about that?” She said hitching her head towards my crotch. “What did you have in mind?” I said standing before she got too close. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me into another passionate kiss. My cock was rubbing against her navel and my hands found her ass again. She pushed/eased me back onto the couch and got between my legs. She tossed her undies to the side, this time missing the pile and ending up on the floor. The flimsy fabric wasn't heavy enough to make the whole flight. She also had a condom in her hand that she sat on the couch beside me. She must have snuck it out of the medicine cabinet. Her eyes didn't leave mine as her hands stroked my cock. Her butt lowered to a sitting position on her heels. Her mouth opened wide enough to lick the head as she pumped me. She licked from the root to the tip. Her face was covered from her chin to her hair line when she was at her deepest. My dick was longer than her face. She started to suck me off, never stopping to close her eyes, she barely blinked as she stared right into my mine. I would have loved to close my eyes and roll my head back, but her eyes were entrancing. It was the hottest blow job I have ever gotten. Hands down. She was moaning on my cock, flicking her tongue in my tip's slit, lapping up any pre-cum that was leaking out. There was plenty of it, too. My dick was practically drooling. As soon as she was certain that she killed half of my fortitude, she leaned over and retrieved the condom and handed it to me. I ripped it open and popped it on like a magician doing a close-up magic trick. A dove flew out from under my sack. I'm kidding. I grabbed her and pulled her to the couch letting her fall supine. My cock was already at her moist opening. Her heels dug into the backs of my thighs. My dick slid in a good quarter of the way, our gaze never breaking. Her heels let up some and I retreated only to thrust in again. I found a bit of resistance when I got better than half of my shaft inside her. I finally bottomed out on the fourth stroke. I could feel her cervix give about an inch and then kiss my crown with every pass. It was incredible. I still had about an inch to give her, but she'd have to take that herself, I wasn't going to hurt her. Once I got into a good rhythm, I reached up to place my right hand over her shoulder to support my weight over her a little better. She took my hand and placed it on her neck and gently squeezed my forearm until my fingers mimicked her squeezing. Once she was satisfied with my ministrations on her neck, she started to grind against me from underneath. Her left leg took footing on the floor and bounced up onto me. She was looking for the last inch. My left hand wrapped around her left ankle and lifted her leg up over my shoulder and she finally got what she wanted. I was completely inside her and now, my pubic bone grinding into her clit with each thrust. I shortened my stride and let her clit join in on the fun full-time. I found a nipple with my left hand and rubbed it gently, increasing the sensations more and more. A good deal of my upper body weight was on her neck as I squeezed, but she didn't seem to mind. Her mouth creased into a thin smile as she moaned louder and louder. She was going to cum again, only this time she was cumming on my sheathed cock. Her pussy gripped me tighter and my hands involuntarily did the same to her neck and nipple. Her eyes shot open wide as the convulsions started. My pace quickened and I started to penetrate her deeper again. Her squishing was suddenly louder and more pronounced. Her juices were coating my balls as she continued to shake and moan breathlessly. I released her and leaned back and pulled her legs further apart and rubbed her clit in a similar fashion as before. She shook and gasped as she let a third orgasm pass on by. My strokes came to a halt and stopped rubbing her clit. “Are you okay?” I asked smiling at her. The redness dimmed in her face now that the blood returned, but she was still very flushed. “That…was pretty fucking perfect!” She said honestly. “If you let me turn you over, I can go for extra credit. How does that sound?” I replied. “Oh! You didn't cum yet! Take me anyway you'd like!” She said rolling over onto her hands and knees. My right thumb immediately found her puckered asshole. “Okay, not anyway, Cowboy.” She added, giggling. I leaned in and slid all the way in, missing her cervix this time because of the angle. I was stretching her out while hitting all the right spots. My balls nuzzling her clit as I stroked into her. I could see her pussy pull out with me slightly despite her moisture and the lube on the condom. Her climax surprised us both as she began to ram back onto me. I didn't slow down because her canal tightened up and was now hugging all my favorite spots. I plowed through her narrowing passage looking for my own prize. She didn't have any time to recover as she reached orgasm again and again until I was ready. “Where would you like it?” I asked, being a perfect gentleman. “Don't you… fucking dare… pull out… FUCK!” She gasped between strokes. One last look at the condom to check on it's structural integrity and I was plowing harder, deeper, and faster now. Her moans reached a familiar volume again and I was doing my best to time my nut with her next orgasm. As soon as my seed spilled into her condom-protected cunt, she came hard again. We both grunted our approval as my balls emptied. We stayed like that for a moment, knotted together in pleasure. I could feel my cock softening so I took it as a cue to pull out. I grabbed the base of the condom and my cock and slid it out slowly. She tried backing into me to keep me inside her. The latex held and there was a considerable load sloshing in the tip. It would have produced triplets if that's how sex actually worked. She rolled over and collapsed back onto the couch. Seeing the condom in my hand, she grabbed it and poured it all over her huge breasts and rubbed it in, licking her fingers and popping a nipple in her mouth, purring like a cat. It was the grossest thing I ever saw. I fucking loved it, though. I showed her to my master bath and started the shower. I had a garden tub and a shower stall with just enough room for us both inside. We cleaned up and kissed some under the water, then dried off. She retrieved her clothes in one bundle. Her eyes looked like she had something to say, but her lips didn't move. We were both pretty drunk by now and the trains were far too dangerous to ride. I offered to call her a cab and pay for it, but she declined taking my money, saying something about feeling like a hooker. I assured her that wasn't the case and she smiled. I also offered her my spare bedroom, assuming that sleeping in the same bed would be too intimate for her. She gladly accepted. I grabbed something for her to sleep in. A pair of sweats and a big, soft white tee. I was wearing something similar, although they fit me better. After showing her to the spare bedroom and turning the bed for her, I gave her a sensual kiss on her mouth. No tongue. A peck on her forehead and I walked to the door. “What time do you wake up?” She asked, fiddling with her phone above the covers. “Got somewhere to be?” I jested. “Ten? Maybe? Wake me if you're up first. How does pancakes sound for breakfast?” “Oh my Gaia, He's making me pancakes…” She said laughing out loud. “It's a deal!” As I hit the light, I could see her face lit up by her cell phone screen. She was prolly giving the “all clear” to one of her girlfriends, assuring them that she was alright. Prolly better than alright. I reached my bedroom and wiggled under the sheet and took my rest for the night. My bedside clock said 1:37 AM. Not a bad first date, eh? My eyes were heavy and I surrendered to the best sleep of my life. By Thintri , for Literotica

 My first time with Cosplay Beth. By Thintri - listen to the podcast at Steamy Stories. She stood there, waiting impatiently for the delicious meat to slide into her eager hands. She looked forward to having it in her mouth later, I could tell. She continued to caress her belly and nibble on a fingernail as she waited impatiently.She stood around 5'4" in her Converse sneakers. She wore a black pair of boot-cut jeans and a gray tee that read “Never tell me the odds!” and had a set of red, tumbling dice and a star-fighter with four wings in the shape of an “X” sitting above a plate held up by a small plastic pole  The tee was super tight around her breasts, but I didn't notice any bra lines. I would guess she was a 36C or D. Her hips were just as wide and her ass complimented her full hips and busty chest. Her hair reminded me of that Scottish Disney movie princess, all wild and fire red. Her skin was extremely fair, like she would to burst into flames if she stepped outside. She didn't look much older than the drinking age, a good decade or more younger than me. Another adult millennial in the big city. “Seventy Three!” She pounced and grabbed the too thick package and examined it in her suddenly small hands. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and you could almost see saliva well up in the corner of her mouth. I needed to step in before she made a terrible mistake. “Excuse me. That's my Butt.” I said. “I beg your pardon?!” She responded incredulously. “Seventy Three?.. Your holding my Boston Butt.” I said, holding the ticket for her to see. “Oh, right. I'm sorry. I'm in a different world today.” “You actually look really hungry. Are you going to have time to cook or are you going to eat something raw here in the store? I'll have that Butt now.” I said holding my hands out. “Your butt is so big! Erm… I mean…” She said as she handed it over and I placed it in my cart. “Yeah, What's a bachelor going to do with all this food, right? I'm actually hosting a game night for my friends tomorrow. There will be seven of us total. Eight, if you'd like to have a taste of this Butt.” I said making “Butt” sound more like an actual innuendo this time. “T.J.” I added, extending my hand. “Beth. Pleased to meet you, T.J. What's that stand for?” She said, shaking my out-reached hand in a delicate manner. “Thaddeus Junior. ‘Thad' sounds too douchey.” “What do they call your father?” “Thad…” I said, rolling my eyes sheepishly. “But he's too old to even pretend to act like a douche. He would have no idea where to start.” “Oh, well that's good. I bet he showed you how to be a real gentleman.” She said with a slight giggle in her voice. “He showed me how to rub a butt properly, that's for sure.” “Pardon?!” She said eyes wide again. “Barbeque… dry rub? A good rub down and then moisten it up later.” “Oh, yeah… Right…” “So… Wanna come over tomorrow and join my party? You'd even out the group.” “I don't see why not. Could be fun, right?” “Splendid! That means you'll have to come over tonight to get your character squared away and maybe help prep for dinner? I promise I'll feed you tonight, too. I have flank steaks marinating.” “Oh, I don't know…” “You'll have my address and you can tell all of your friends where you'll be. There's even a doorman and a security camera in the lobby.” “Oh. That sounded well-rehearsed. Invite a lot of ladies home, do you?” She asked suspiciously. “No ma'am. I just want your mind at ease.” I lied with my hands up in a disarming manner. My response was also rehearsed, but it worked like a charm. “Tell me about the marinade.” She said slowly, squinting her eyes and nodding her head up at me. “It's a lazy meal night. It's just a store bought Italian dressing, but I add some of this and that. I was thinking maybe use my indoor grill or broil them. Do you have a preference?” I said trying to sink the hook in deeper. I'm not going to broil a steak. That's ridiculous. “Grill it!” “Agreed. So I'll see you at 6:30 then?” “Yeah. Sounds good.” Hook, Line, and Sinker. “Eighty Three!” said the butcher. “I think you're eighty three.” I said pointing at the ticket in her basket at her feet.“ “Oh. That's me!” She said turning towards the counter. We exchanged information and I gave her my address so we could meet up later. I was actually quite excited about making a new hot friend and maybe even more than that. I'm not the type of guy to jump into bed with just anybody. I really wanted to get to know her and see where in my life she might fit. 6:45 rolled around and I finally got a text from Beth: “Hey, Sorry. The train was running late and there's no cell service down there. I'm walking up to street level now. I'll be at your place in Ten minutes. Is there anything you want me to pick up?” I responded: “Hey, glad you're on the way. I was worried you split on me or worse. All I have is vanilla ice cream and toppings for dessert. If that's not good enough, we can walk around the block and get an Italian Ice from the pizza shop. Is red wine okay with the steaks? If not, I have beer. Should I let the wine breathe or would you rather beer?” She responded: “Italian Icies! And beer, please. Wine feels too formal. [Winky emoji] Be up in five.” She wasn't kidding about the train running slow. The news interrupted my background show. There was a brown out on my line that took 20 minutes to fix. One train was in emergency lighting the whole time. I already called ahead downstairs for the doorman to let my new friend up. He needed to send her up manually because she didn't have a key fob to my apartment. The elevator opened to each unit, but they all had entryways prior to the front door. It was a private place to take off wet clothes and hang jackets and kick off shoes before entering. I left the front door open and she let herself in. “Hello? TJ?” “In the kitchen.” “Hey!” She said, giving me a friendly hug. She smelled like strawberries. I also took a good look at her while were chit-chatted. She wore a Falmouth Falcons Jersey and a matching pleated skirt. She had on short two or three inch heels on that had open toes and matched her outfit well. She quickly discarded them and left them in the hall outside of the front door and closed it behind her. She also put a pair of clips in her hair, leaving the right side of her neck exposed. “I was just about to text you to ask how you like your steak cooked?” “Medium. It's okay if it's a little rare, just don't cook it too much, please.” “Oh, that makes it easier on me. I can put them on around the same time.” “Do you need any help with the cooking?” “Umm… Did you want the potatoes mashed, or as is?” “Hmm… Nah. We can leave them like that. They look done, too.” She said, looking into the pot. “Fork ready!” I said stabbing at them. I went ahead and strained them while Beth flipped the steaks. I also served up a helping of corn for each of us and added the potatoes. “How do they look?” She asked me, pointing to the steaks. I poked at one with my finger and pushed until I felt it push back. “Feels about Medium rare. Maybe another minute on that side.” I said. Beth took it upon herself to grab two beers from the fridge. I was just about done with my second, so it was good timing on her part. “This looks interesting. ‘Axel Rogues' P.O.'d India Pale Ale'? Is it new?” “It's from a brewery a couple of my friends partially own. They send it up from the Alabama Coast for me. They might be giving me a bit of a drinking problem.” I said in jest. “Isn't it bad to have cartoon characters on your beer labels? Something about advertising to minors?” “It's a promotional thing. Only a few of those labels were printed. It was mostly for investors and the grand opening a few weeks back.” “Oh. This tastes pretty good!” She said, wide-eyed. I was told it's a bit of a panty dropper, but I wasn't telling her that. “Yeah. It's got a lot of subtle tastes that the female focus groups enjoyed. The male groups said it's refreshing, but might be too easy to drink. Hence my problem.” I kidded again, even though it was true. Dinner went by pretty quickly and we both cleared our plates and then dumped the dishes in the washer. She was on her third beer and I had just finished my fourth. “Would you like another or maybe a Manhattan?” I asked, trying to grease her wheels some. “Can you make a White Manhattan?” She asked. It felt more like a test. “Sure. Is Hudson okay?” I asked, volleying her serve. “That'd be perfect!” She said all too eagerly. Beth went ahead and wiped the table down and moved some of the settings aside to make room for us to work. She had brought her messenger bag and pulled out a large Velcro binder with a few gaming books. I was actually impressed with her line of questioning and her surprising neatness. We decided that one of her old characters, a Human Monk, was a good fit for the group and I gave her the run-down of the story so far, as best as I could remember. She wasn't surprised by the content being sexual in nature. Lots of groups add a sexy/romantic spin thanks to modern fantasy movies and books. One girl in the group, Adrienne, had to re-roll after a death because she decided to fight her way out of an Orc rape scene rather than lose her purity. She was playing a Paladin at the time, so it was pretty fitting. She did set fire to the camp site and take out a few Orcs before she died, though. It was pretty awesome. She re-rolled into a rogue who was her last toon's “Black Sheep” sister; she was a very pissed off rogue. We completely forgot about going out for Icies and decided to chat some more about the group and where I felt the story might lead. I noticed in my peripheral vision that her nipples started to show through her tight shirt. My apartment isn't that cold. I like it to be around seventy six degrees. The air is humidity controlled, so the extra A/C isn't needed. The conversation slid over to her cosplay hobby and how devout she is to it. She whipped out her phone and swiped through several characters she's played at conventions and ren faires. She's even done some minor MeTube shorts in character. We were sitting side-by-side, nearly shoulder to shoulder as she swiped. One particular picture was done in a mirror “selfie” fashion. She was wearing a very tight corset dress that was blue and white, similar to a very familiar droid we all know and love. Her breasts were practically pouring out of her top and her hand was between her legs in a provocative manner. “Whoops… You weren't supposed to see that… Sorry” “Hey now… You should share with the rest of the class, Missy.” I said leaning in closer to her and her phone. “Okay, but they really aren't much to look at. Really.” She said modestly. The pics varied from lingerie to sexy cosplay back to lingerie. Some were topless, but her free hand covered her nipples. There was still an eye-full of side and under boob, though. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.” She demanded playfully. I had several shirtless gym “Swole” pics as well as a few cosplay pics, too. None as flattering as her pictures, but she seemed pleased with them. She was definitely excited about my picture with me wearing a Fez and bow tie. As I got up for another drink, I opted to switch back to beer. I offered her one over her shoulder and she took it, letting her hand linger on mine, not taking the bottle, though. She let the cold glass rub her neck and shoulder, and when she finally took it, she pulled me into a bent over, sideways kiss. I'm pretty sure she was feeling similar fireworks to mine. I went ahead and climbed over the couch, letting our head bump in the process. We giggled as we put our beers down and started making out like ninth graders. I was being a complete gentleman and let my hands fall on her face and neck as we kissed. Her hands were in similar places, but soon explored down to my chest. I kept it cool and let her do her thing while both of my hands were now working her neck and tangled in her hair. She reached up and pulled her clips out so I didn't pull on her hair the wrong way. I kept up my aggressive assault above her shoulders as she continued to grope my chest and stomach over my shirt. I was wearing a light, loose button-down and low-rise dark blue jeans. Her hands explored more while undoing a button or two. Her left hand snaked into the opening and now rubbed my chest more over my ribbed tank tee underneath. Once all my buttons were undone, I took some initiative and grabbed her under her thighs and pulled her into my lap. She was now kneeling on both sides of my pelvis. We only broke the kiss long enough to discard my top and then my undershirt. My hands were now under her tee shirt, caressing her back. My fingers roamed and slid over where her bra strap would have been. She felt my mouth peak at the sides in a little smile at that. She giggled and pulled her tee off and tossed it to the adjacent love seat. We were sitting bare chest to bare chest as she started moving her hips in a subtle rocking motion on my lap. My hands found her breasts as I continued to molest her tongue with mine. My cock was rock hard and rubbing against her pussy though my jeans and thin fabric of her underwear. She started undoing my belt and pants as I worked on unbuttoning her skirt and pulling the hip zipper down one handed as my mouth found her right breast. Her strawberry scent was so much stronger with my face in her chest. It was driving me crazy. “Take them off.” She said breathlessly, standing up and discarding her skirt, adding it to her tee. I hopped my butt up and pulled my pants off without standing. She was standing between my legs and I would have prolly head-butted her again if I tried to stand. I decided to leave my boxer briefs on to match her level of dress. She sat back down straddling my lap again, only leaving more room between our pelvises this time. My mouth found her left breast as she blindly reached into the opening of my shorts. I was cupping her left breast with my right hand as my left hand began to fondle her right ass cheek. She was wearing a g-string. My hand would squeeze her ass and slide between her cheeks and back to squeezing again. She gasped as she grabbed my cock with her hand. She couldn't see it past my head or through my shorts, but she was certainly pleased with it's size and current level of petrification. She knelt on her left knee and tried to slide my shorts down. I miscued my attempt at helping by hopping my butt again and we head- butted again. We giggled, took a drink and she took my shorts off and took her place back in my lap again. This time, she was crushing my cock against her slit, covered by the tiniest triangle of fabric I've ever seen… Or felt for that matter. Her rocking increased and she was now dry-humping my cock. I could feel her moistness lubricating my dick through her g-string. My pre-cum was starting to bubble over my mushroom cap. Her nails dug into my chest. I didn't notice them until now… They were French tipped and matched her Quidditch jersey. My hands were both on her ass now, as my fingers were sliding up and down her crack and slipping under the thin thread. Her breathing became ragged as my fingers found her drenched pussy from behind. One hand was holding her string aside and her pussy open for me. My right hand found her opening and clit as she rocked back. She started to cum, grinding harder onto me. She called out my name as she climaxed and crumpled onto my chest. Her head on my shoulder. She was panting hard. My fingers continued to rub her from behind softly, easing several after shocks out of her. “Excuse me a moment.” She finally said through choppy breaths. She made her way to the hallway bath and I took the opportunity to grab a condom from the coffee table drawer. I had just enough time to tear one free from the rest and tuck it into the side of the couch cushion when the bathroom door opened up. Her face and chest were flushed, and she still wobbled a little when she walked. It was a combination of her orgasm and the alcohol, I guess. She was holding her g-string in one hand. Her pussy was clean shaven except for a thin trail of red pubic hair just above her clit hood. My dick jumped in approval. “What are we going to do about that?” She said hitching her head towards my crotch. “What did you have in mind?” I said standing before she got too close. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me into another passionate kiss. My cock was rubbing against her navel and my hands found her ass again. She pushed/eased me back onto the couch and got between my legs. She tossed her undies to the side, this time missing the pile and ending up on the floor. The flimsy fabric wasn't heavy enough to make the whole flight. She also had a condom in her hand that she sat on the couch beside me. She must have snuck it out of the medicine cabinet. Her eyes didn't leave mine as her hands stroked my cock. Her butt lowered to a sitting position on her heels. Her mouth opened wide enough to lick the head as she pumped me. She licked from the root to the tip. Her face was covered from her chin to her hair line when she was at her deepest. My dick was longer than her face. She started to suck me off, never stopping to close her eyes, she barely blinked as she stared right into my mine. I would have loved to close my eyes and roll my head back, but her eyes were entrancing. It was the hottest blow job I have ever gotten. Hands down. She was moaning on my cock, flicking her tongue in my tip's slit, lapping up any pre-cum that was leaking out. There was plenty of it, too. My dick was practically drooling. As soon as she was certain that she killed half of my fortitude, she leaned over and retrieved the condom and handed it to me. I ripped it open and popped it on like a magician doing a close-up magic trick. A dove flew out from under my sack. I'm kidding. I grabbed her and pulled her to the couch letting her fall supine. My cock was already at her moist opening. Her heels dug into the backs of my thighs. My dick slid in a good quarter of the way, our gaze never breaking. Her heels let up some and I retreated only to thrust in again. I found a bit of resistance when I got better than half of my shaft inside her. I finally bottomed out on the fourth stroke. I could feel her cervix give about an inch and then kiss my crown with every pass. It was incredible. I still had about an inch to give her, but she'd have to take that herself, I wasn't going to hurt her. Once I got into a good rhythm, I reached up to place my right hand over her shoulder to support my weight over her a little better. She took my hand and placed it on her neck and gently squeezed my forearm until my fingers mimicked her squeezing. Once she was satisfied with my ministrations on her neck, she started to grind against me from underneath. Her left leg took footing on the floor and bounced up onto me. She was looking for the last inch. My left hand wrapped around her left ankle and lifted her leg up over my shoulder and she finally got what she wanted. I was completely inside her and now, my pubic bone grinding into her clit with each thrust. I shortened my stride and let her clit join in on the fun full-time. I found a nipple with my left hand and rubbed it gently, increasing the sensations more and more. A good deal of my upper body weight was on her neck as I squeezed, but she didn't seem to mind. Her mouth creased into a thin smile as she moaned louder and louder. She was going to cum again, only this time she was cumming on my sheathed cock. Her pussy gripped me tighter and my hands involuntarily did the same to her neck and nipple. Her eyes shot open wide as the convulsions started. My pace quickened and I started to penetrate her deeper again. Her squishing was suddenly louder and more pronounced. Her juices were coating my balls as she continued to shake and moan breathlessly. I released her and leaned back and pulled her legs further apart and rubbed her clit in a similar fashion as before. She shook and gasped as she let a third orgasm pass on by. My strokes came to a halt and stopped rubbing her clit. “Are you okay?” I asked smiling at her. The redness dimmed in her face now that the blood returned, but she was still very flushed. “That…was pretty fucking perfect!” She said honestly. “If you let me turn you over, I can go for extra credit. How does that sound?” I replied. “Oh! You didn't cum yet! Take me anyway you'd like!” She said rolling over onto her hands and knees. My right thumb immediately found her puckered asshole. “Okay, not anyway, Cowboy.” She added, giggling. I leaned in and slid all the way in, missing her cervix this time because of the angle. I was stretching her out while hitting all the right spots. My balls nuzzling her clit as I stroked into her. I could see her pussy pull out with me slightly despite her moisture and the lube on the condom. Her climax surprised us both as she began to ram back onto me. I didn't slow down because her canal tightened up and was now hugging all my favorite spots. I plowed through her narrowing passage looking for my own prize. She didn't have any time to recover as she reached orgasm again and again until I was ready. “Where would you like it?” I asked, being a perfect gentleman. “Don't you… fucking dare… pull out… FUCK!” She gasped between strokes. One last look at the condom to check on it's structural integrity and I was plowing harder, deeper, and faster now. Her moans reached a familiar volume again and I was doing my best to time my nut with her next orgasm. As soon as my seed spilled into her condom-protected cunt, she came hard again. We both grunted our approval as my balls emptied. We stayed like that for a moment, knotted together in pleasure. I could feel my cock softening so I took it as a cue to pull out. I grabbed the base of the condom and my cock and slid it out slowly. She tried backing into me to keep me inside her. The latex held and there was a considerable load sloshing in the tip. It would have produced triplets if that's how sex actually worked. She rolled over and collapsed back onto the couch. Seeing the condom in my hand, she grabbed it and poured it all over her huge breasts and rubbed it in, licking her fingers and popping a nipple in her mouth, purring like a cat. It was the grossest thing I ever saw. I fucking loved it, though. I showed her to my master bath and started the shower. I had a garden tub and a shower stall with just enough room for us both inside. We cleaned up and kissed some under the water, then dried off. She retrieved her clothes in one bundle. Her eyes looked like she had something to say, but her lips didn't move. We were both pretty drunk by now and the trains were far too dangerous to ride. I offered to call her a cab and pay for it, but she declined taking my money, saying something about feeling like a hooker. I assured her that wasn't the case and she smiled. I also offered her my spare bedroom, assuming that sleeping in the same bed would be too intimate for her. She gladly accepted. I grabbed something for her to sleep in. A pair of sweats and a big, soft white tee. I was wearing something similar, although they fit me better. After showing her to the spare bedroom and turning the bed for her, I gave her a sensual kiss on her mouth. No tongue. A peck on her forehead and I walked to the door. “What time do you wake up?” She asked, fiddling with her phone above the covers. “Got somewhere to be?” I jested. “Ten? Maybe? Wake me if you're up first. How does pancakes sound for breakfast?” “Oh my Gaia, He's making me pancakes…” She said laughing out loud. “It's a deal!” As I hit the light, I could see her face lit up by her cell phone screen. She was prolly giving the “all clear” to one of her girlfriends, assuring them that she was alright. Prolly better than alright. I reached my bedroom and wiggled under the sheet and took my rest for the night. My bedside clock said 1:37 AM. Not a bad first date, eh? My eyes were heavy and I surrendered to the best sleep of my life. By Thintri , for Literotica

Jones isn't pleased with the RB depth thus far around the trade deadline

Pleased With Ourselves? Luke 18:9-14 10/26/2025 Rev. Alan Brehm PhD Hickman Presbyterian Church

After his disastrous BBC Newsnight interview aired on November 16, 2019, Prince Andrew initially tried to defend both his performance and his decision to do it. He reportedly believed the interview had gone “very well” and that it would clear the air about his association with Jeffrey Epstein. His public statement that followed expressed “sympathy for all those affected by Epstein's behavior” but maintained his innocence, repeating that he had “no recollection” of ever meeting Virginia Roberts Giuffre. At the time, Andrew and his team framed the interview as a gesture of transparency—an attempt to reclaim his reputation by addressing the controversy head-on rather than hiding from it.That optimism, however, evaporated within hours. The public and media reaction was ferocious, describing his tone as arrogant, emotionless, and shockingly out of touch. Buckingham Palace was thrown into crisis mode as royal aides and senior family members reportedly reacted with disbelief. Within days, Andrew's “initial response” to stand firm turned into a forced retreat—he announced he was stepping back from royal duties “for the foreseeable future.” His claim that he would cooperate with U.S. authorities also fell apart, with federal prosecutors later revealing that he had provided “zero cooperation.” The interview he once thought would vindicate him became the single most damaging moment of his life.to contact me:bobbycapucci@protonmail.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-epstein-chronicles--5003294/support.

We have some player quotes and it's a Tuesday Grum!

Get ready for the ultimate Star Wars collector deep dive and a massive toy hunt!On this episode of The Smugglers' Galaxy, the crew hits the road for the legendary Ross Con, targeting Ross Dress for Less locations across Atlanta and Charlotte.The main event: We break down Hasbro's new strategy of reusing HasLab tooling, a practice recently deployed in the G.I. Joe Classified line. We intensely debate the future of Star Wars HasLabs: What previous campaign vehicles (like the Razor Crest or Jabba's Sail Barge) could be retooled for a new product, and what does this mean for the value of your most premium collector items?We tackle the tough questions from Hasbro veteran Steve Evans' viral poll regarding the alchemy of price vs. detail. Should collectors expect a higher price point for hyper-realistic 6-inch Black Series figures, or is sacrificing detail for current pricing the new norm?Finally, we analyze the latest, candid statements from George Lucas on the current direction of Disney's Star Wars. We discuss his apparent distance from the franchise and what his comments reveal about the sequel era. Don't miss this crucial debate on collecting, pricing, and the fate of the galaxy far, far away!

Adventures of Dirk: The Lady Farmer. Dirk has a sensual encounter with a robust lady farmer. By Original Aramis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The sun was lying low on the horizon, full dark not more than an hour off, when Dirk pulled his Harley into a parking space in front of the small general store in the center of town. He'd been on the road for two days and was halfway through a four-day trip, and this was just one of a dozen small Midwestern towns he'd passed through in the past 24 hours. They all looked the same after a while, like something out of “The Andy Griffith Show,” but he figured that wasn't really so bad after all. This town was smaller than most with no more than a dozen buildings lining each side of what he thought was Main Street, and as he looked around he didn't see what he was looking for. As he looked up and down both sides of the street he noticed that he was the center of attention, and he certainly understood why - there wasn't another bike in sight, much less another biker, and he knew that the locals certainly weren't used to long-haired strangers in old jeans, t-shirts, and leather vests festooned with club patches riding into town on a bike that sounded like thunder on two wheels. He took off his helmet, hung it on the mirror, and then walked towards the wooden door to the general store, stripping off his black leather fingerless gloves as he went. The air inside the store was cool, and it was a welcome relief from the heat of the late August afternoon. A bell over the door jingled as he walked in, and a man who must have been the owner looked up at him from behind the counter to Dirk's left. There was a woman standing on this side of the counter as well, but Dirk didn't pay much attention to her at first. “Howdy, stranger,” the man said, sounding like something out of an old Western movie. Dirk smiled a bit as he replied. “Hey, how are ya,” he said, pulling a red paisley bandana out of his back pocket and wiping his face. “Where are your drink coolers?” he asked, stuffing the bandana back in his pocket. “Rear of the store to your right,” the man said, pointing in that direction. “Thanks,” Dirk said, walking towards the coolers, his motorcycle boots clumping on the wooden floor. A few moments later he walked up to the counter and placed two big bottles of Gatorade on the counter. He nodded at the woman next to the counter and gave her a polite smile, and she smiled back. He was considerably taller than her; he stood six feet even, and she was five foot nothing at the most. “That do it for ya?” the man behind the counter asked. Dirk nodded as he replied. “Yeah, that's it,” he said as the man rang up the drinks. “That'll be three dollars and ten cents,” he said, reaching for a paper bag as Dirk pulled his leather wallet out of his other back pocket, the chain attached to it swinging. “That's okay, I don't need a bag,” Dirk said, pulling a five out of his wallet and handing it to the man. Then he picked up one of the bottles, twisted the cap off, and took a long drink out of it. It was cold and good, and it gave him chills as it went down. He took his change from the man and stuffed it in one of the side pockets of his vest, then took another smaller drink from the bottle before speaking again. “Is there a motel around here somewhere?” he asked the man behind the counter. “I didn't see one on the main drag out front.” “You didn't see one because they're ain't one,” the man replied, smiling at Dirk. “And the closest motel from here is in Junction City, about eighty miles thataway,” the man said, pointing down the road in the direction that Dirk was travelling. “Great, just freakin' great,” Dirk muttered. “Another hour and a half on the road…just what I need!” “You need a place to stay, cowboy?” the woman said, and Dirk turned and looked at her, really seeing her for the first time. She was short, about five feet tall, with sparkling blue eyes and short red hair worn in a “pageboy” style. She had a slightly round face, small pert nose and nice lips that were spread in a smile showing her white teeth. She was a solid woman, a little more stout than Dirk normally preferred, clad in a loose-fitting cotton long sleeve plaid shirt tucked into jeans that were tight enough to show off the considerable curves of her full, rounded ass and equally full thighs. The shirt was unbuttoned to the second button which showed enough cleavage to give Dirk a good indication of the mountanous breasts that tented out the front of the shirt. Dirk wondered when was the last time this woman saw her feet. It was an effort to tear his eyes away from the huge mounds of her breasts pushing out the front of her shirt, especially with all of the cleavage she was showing, but he managed it. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, nodding at her and giving her a small smile. She smiled back at him even bigger in return. “A barn would be just fine if you got one,” he continued. “My mother would roll over in her grave at my lack of hospitality if I made a house guest sleep in the barn!” the woman said, laughing. Her huge breasts jiggled in her shirt as she laughed, drawing Dirk's attention again. “I got a spare room in the back of the house that's yours if you want it, and you can keep your iron horse out in the barn,” she said, nodding to the bike parked in front of the store. “I sure appreciate that, ma'am,” Dirk replied, his smile a bit bigger as he spoke. “But don't you think you'd better check with your husband first? You coming home with a biker for an overnight house guest might not go over too well with him, ya know,” he said. The woman broke out in laughter at this, and the man behind the counter chuckled as well. Dirk gave them both a puzzled look, and then the woman spoke again. “Well, for starters, cowboy, my name is Pat,” she said, grinning hugely at him and sticking out her hand. He took her hand and shook it; and was surprised to find her grip firm and sure. “If you're gonna be sleeping under my roof tonight, I think it only right that we know each other's names, don't you?” “Fair enough; my name's Dirk,” he replied. “Pleased to meet you, Dirk!” Pat said, her blue eyes sparkling. “And as for the husband, well, there isn't one, so don't you worry about that! I threw his ass out years ago, the lazy good-for-nothing bastard! Now it's just me and Max, my Bassett Hound. I love him to death but he isn't much on conversation, so it'll be good to have someone to talk to over dinner tonight,” she said. “I appreciate your hospitality, Pat, I really do,” Dirk said, relaxing a bit and letting his smile get a little bigger. “But you have to let me pay you for the night or at least buy the food, something to return the favor.” Pat smiled up at him when he said this, and he saw a new, brighter sparkle in her blue eyes as she replied. “Oh, I'm sure you'll come up with something!” she said. She paused and looked up at him for a moment, grinning at him, then broke eye contact as she walked past him toward the door. “Sun's going down, so we'd better get a move on,” she said, opening the wooden door to the store. She turned and looked at him as he picked up the second bottle of Gatorade from the counter and turned to follow her. “You can follow me out to the farm; it's about ten miles south of here so we'll be there in about fifteen minutes or so.” Then she walked out of the store and over to an old but very well-kept customized Chevy S-10 pickup truck, getting in and starting the engine. Dirk quickly put the other bottle of Gatorade in his saddlebag, threw on his helmet and gloves, then got on the bike and fired it up. She drove out of town with him following behind her, the thunder of his pipes bouncing off of the few buildings there were in the center of town. Fifteen minutes later Pat turned off of the two-lane county blacktop road onto a dirt driveway that must have been at least a quarter of a mile long. The land on either side of the road was green with soybeans, and sitting at the end of the driveway right in the center of the huge expanse of farmland was a typical midwestern-style wooden white farmhouse with a green roof, green shutters on the windows and a wraparound porch. The house had several large, old oak trees around it, effectively putting the house in the shade for most of the day. Dirk could see the barn rising up behind the house, and he pulled his bike up to the barn as Pat parked the truck in front of the house. He got his bag of belongings out of the left saddlebag and walked around to the front of the house where Pat was waiting for him on the porch. She smiled at him as he walked up the wooden steps to the porch. “Welcome to ‘Shady Oaks,' my farm,” Pat said proudly. “I grow the best soybeans in the state here, and am damn proud of it!” “You work all this land all on your own, Pat?” Dirk asked, looking around at the vast expanse of farmland that surrounded the house. Pat laughed briefly before replying. “Hell, no! I let the hired help take care of that,” she explained, opening the front door and walking inside with Dirk following her. The inside of the house was dark and cool, just as Dirk imagined it would be. “I just keep the books, write the paychecks for the help, and put the rest of the money in the bank,” Pat said as she walked down the short hallway to the sitting room. Max the Bassett Hound was lying on the couch sleeping, and he slowly lifted his head to look at them as they came in the room. Pat scratched him on the top of his head as she walked past, and then Max dropped his head again and went back to sleep. She stopped in the center of the room and turned to Dirk as she continued. “The spare room is through that door and down the hall, the last room on the right,” she said, pointing down the hallway. “Why don't you go ahead and drop your gear, maybe wash the road grime from your face while I get started on dinner? The bathroom's right across the hall from your room,” she said. “Thanks, Pat, I appreciate that,” Dirk said, smiling at her. “I sure could use a shower; do I have time for that before dinner's ready?” “I'll make sure you do,” Pat said, smiling back. “Now you go on and take care of yourself while I get started on dinner!” Then she turned and walked out of the sitting room, heading for the kitchen. Dirk watched her go, admiring the swinging of her full, rounded ass as she walked. There was something about this woman that both intrigued and excited him, and even though his type was usually the slender blonde with big tits and no brains that could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch, there was something about this short, stout redheaded woman with big tits that he couldn't deny. He shook his head slightly and then headed for his room to drop his gear and then shower. When Pat heard the sound of his boots moving down the hallway, she stuck her head around the corner and watched him walk away. She wasn't sure if it was the long hair, the faded jeans, the muscled build glimpsed beneath his t-shirt, the leather vest with the biker club patches on it, the bike he rode or a combination of all of the above, but Pat knew that there was something about this man that both attracted and excited her. She felt a stirring in her loins whenever she looked at him, and she was feeling it now as she watched his tight ass walking down the hallway. She sighed as he opened the door to his room and went inside, smiling to herself as she started working on dinner. “I have a feeling this is gonna be a very interesting and exciting evening!” she said to herself, her smile growing bigger. The shower felt wonderful, and when Dirk was finished he put his jeans back on and got a clean t-shirt out of his bag, putting that on as well. He thought about putting his boots back on but decided not to; he had a feeling that Pat wouldn't mind the informality of it all. He also had a feeling he'd only be taking them off again later anyway, and not to go to bed. He walked out of the room barefoot, the aroma of dinner cooking on the stove filling the hallway and the rest of the house. “Smells great, Pat,” he said, walking into the kitchen. “And it tastes just as good!” she replied, smiling up at him. “Everything's ready, so have a seat at the table and let's eat,” she said. An hour later the meal was finished, the table cleared of dishes and the two of them were sitting at the table with a bottle of beer each. Dirk had suggested coffee but Pat had suggested beer instead, and Dirk readily agreed. He wasn't really much of a coffee drinker anyhow, and after the long, hot day he spent in the saddle he could use a beer or two. He took a drink from the long necked bottle, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Pat was watching him intently. She'd been eyeing him all through the meal, and he had to admit that he'd been eyeing her as well. Then he set the bottle down on the table in front of him and spoke. “That was one hell of a meal, Pat,” he said, and Pat smiled as she took a pull from her own bottle. “Best I've had in a long time, and I sure do appreciate you cooking it for me and giving me a place to stay for the night.” “Why, thank you, Mr. Dirk, I'm glad you enjoyed it!” she replied, smiling at him. “It's been a long time since I had the chance to cook for a good-looking man like yourself, so believe me when I tell you that the pleasure was all mine,” she said. “So how can I repay you for your hospitality?” Dirk asked, sitting forward and resting his elbows on the table. “You've got to let me do something for you, you know.” Pat leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table as well, creating about a mile of cleavage for Dirk to admire. “Like I said before, I'm sure you can come up with something,” Pat said in a quiet voice, her blue eyes looking deep into his as she smiled a slightly seductive, slightly wicked smile at him. Her choice of words was not lost on Dirk, and he felt a smile creep across his face. “Are you flirting with me, Pat?” he asked. “Yep,” she replied, still smiling that smile at him, and he could have sworn that she pushed her arms together slightly to create more cleavage for him to admire. “Is it working?” she asked. “Yep,” he replied, looking intently at her across the table. Her smile got bigger and more wicked. “Then why are we sitting here wasting time, when we could be in my room fucking our brains out?” she said, still smiling at Dirk who was more than a little surprised at her candor. Surprised and aroused, that is; he felt his cock twitch at her words. “Good question,” Dirk replied, feeling his cock begin to grow in his jeans. “Then let's go!” Pat said, getting up from her chair, grinning broader than ever. Dirk put his beer on the table and started to get up, but before he could Pat walked over to him and leaned over to kiss him, taking his head in her hands and planting her soft lips on his. The kiss was hot and intense, and it was apparent from the way Pat invaded his mouth with her tongue that this woman was more than ready to get down to some serious business. Dirk felt his cock begin to harden in his jeans, and it grew even more when Pat's hand dropped to his lap and squeezed his shaft. “imm, nice!” Pat said in a low voice, breaking the kiss and smiling at him. “I can't wait to suck on this and then smother it with my big tits!” “Speaking of which,” Dirk said, glancing down at her huge tits beneath the shirt and then looking back up at her. Pat got the hint and quickly pulled her shirt out of her jeans and began unbuttoning it. She opened the shirt to reveal her massive mounds encased in a semi-sheer bra, and Dirk wondered how it was strong enough to contain her obviously heavy breasts. The bra clasped in the front, and Pat quickly unhooked the clasp and pulled the two cups away from her tits, revealing them to Dirk. They were huge, round and full, swinging with their weight, the nipples hard as two pencil erasers and surrounded by large, pale pink areolas. Pat grabbed them in her hands and squeezed them together, then leaned forward and pushed them against Dirk's face. Dirk slid his arms around her waist as he latched on to one of her nipples, and Pat moaned as he sucked hard on the nub. She could feel her pussy getting wetter by the moment as Dirk sucked on first one and then the other nipple, and when he reached up to grasp her mounds in his hands she let them go and dropped her hand back down to his cock, rubbing and squeezing the big lump there. Dirk squeezed her huge tits hard, pressing them together as he sucked on her nipples and making Pat moan loudly. “Let's go, cowboy,” Pat said, breathing a bit faster as she pulled her tits away from Dirk's grasp and face. “If we don't get to my room right now I'm liable to fuck you right here on the kitchen table!” She grabbed his hand and nearly yanked him out of his chair, leading him down the hallway to her room. Once in her room she led him over to the big four poster bed, then turned to face him as she stripped off her shirt and bra that were both just hanging from her shoulders. She looked at Dirk with obvious lust in her eyes, and her eyes widened a bit when Dirk slipped off his shirt and she saw his muscled torso for the first time. She quickly unfastened her jeans and stepped out of them, her huge, heavy breasts swinging with her movements. She tossed the jeans aside and stood naked before Dirk, breathing heavy with excitement. She watched as he unfastened his own jeans and pushed them down over his hips and down his legs, her smile growing bigger when she saw his hard cock for the first time. “Nice cock, Dirk!” she said, smiling up at him. Then she walked over and dropped to her knees in front of him, reaching out and grasping his cock in her hand and gripping it tightly. She cupped his balls with her other hand as she pumped his cock once or twice, then opened her mouth and slid her lips over the head. It was obvious that she was in no mood for formalities and was eager to get right down to business as she slid her mouth all the way down the hard shaft, her soft, wet tongue sliding along the underside of his cock as she quickly deep-throated his entire length and sucked on it. She squeezed and massaged his balls as she sucked on his cock, her head bobbing up and down the length as she worked the shaft in and out of her mouth. “Damn, and she deep-throats, too!” Dirk said as he watched her working on his cock. She looked up at him and smiled as she continued sucking his cock, then released it from her mouth after a few more strokes. “And I swallow, too!” she said, pumping his cock as she spoke, “But that's for later; right now I want you to tif-fuck me before I fuck you!” She stood up and turned, walking the few steps over to the bed and climbing onto the big mattress. She lay on her back, her head on the pillows, then grabbed her huge mounds and pushed them together as she looked at Dirk. “Now bring that cock over here and let me wrap my big tits around it!” she said, and Dirk obliged. He climbed onto the bed and then straddled Pat's body, moving into position with his cock hovering over her mammoth tits. She held them apart as Dirk pressed his cock down, then clapped them together around his shaft. His cock disappeared from view between her huge tits, and she held them together tightly around his shaft. Dirk could feel the precum flowing from the tip of his cock, and he started moving his cock up and down between the massive globes to spread the slippery fluid around and make fucking her tits easier. “Yeah, baby, that's it,” Pat said, looking down at the head of his cock as it appeared at the top of her tits with each thrust. “Fuck my tits, baby, fuck my big tits!” Then she lowered her head down and licked the head of his cock as it appeared with each thrust, the valley between her tits now slippery with his precum. His cock was sliding easily between her huge tits as she squeezed them around his cock, her tongue licking the head with each thrust. Dirk pushed harder and forced his cock further out of her cleavage, and she immediately clamped her lips around the head and sucked hard. Dirk held his cock still for a moment to let her work on his cock with her lips and tongue, then resumed stroking her big tits. “Yeah, baby, just like that!” Pat said in a husky voice, looking up at him as he tit-fucked her. “You like fucking my big tits, Dirk?” she asked. “You like the way that feels, my big tits wrapped around your hard cock?” “Absolutely,” Dirk replied as he continued thrusting, reaching down to pull and tug on her hard nipples as he moved. “But I bet your pussy feels better,” he said. “So why don't you find out?” she said, and Dirk did just that. He slid his cock from between her huge tits and moved down her body as she opened her stout thighs for him. He could see that her closely-trimmed pussy was already wet, the outer lips glistening as she spread her legs wide for him. She gripped her big tits hard in her hands, pulling and tugging on the nipples as he placed the head of his cock against her opening. He slid the head inside, feeling the hot, silky wetness of her tunnel gripping him, and then she threw her legs around his waist and drove her heels into his ass, driving his cock into her pussy. She moaned loudly as his cock penetrated her hot, slick, tight pussy, and Dirk pushed harder to drive his cock balls-deep into her clutching pussy. “Ahhh, God yes!” Pat cried out, throwing her head back and closing her eyes as his cock impaled her. “That feels so good!” she said, lowering her head after a moment and opening her eyes to look at Dirk who was supporting himself over her with his hands on either side of her. “You like the way my pussy feels around your cock, Dirk?” she asked, squeezing his shaft with her inner muscles. “Your pussy feels fantastic!” Dirk replied. “Very hot, very wet, and very tight!” “The benefits of not having gone through childbirth,” Pat said, smiling up at him as she settled her legs tightly around his waist. “My pussy is just as tight now as it was when I was a teenager,” she said, “and now I want you to fuck me, cowboy, hard and fast!” “I can do that,” Dirk replied, grinning back at her. He began thrusting then, sliding his hard cock in and out of her tight pussy in long, hard, deep strokes. He knew that she wanted to be fucked hard, no formalities, just some good old-fashioned fucking, and he was just the man for the job. She squeezed her big tits together as he pounded his cock in and out of her, his hips banging against hers and his balls slapping against her ample ass as he fucked her. He lowered his head down to her massive chest and she held a big breast up for him, then gasped as he sucked the nipple into his mouth without stopping or slowing his thrusts. When he released the hard nub from his mouth she lowered her head and brought the hard nub up to her lips, clamping her own lips around it and sucking on it as Dirk continued to thrust in and out of her pussy. They took turns sucking on each nipple one at a time, and Dirk could feel her legs tightening around his waist and her pussy tightening around his cock. He knew she was getting ready to cum, and he knew that once she did that would set him off as well. “You keep that up, Pat, and you're gonna make me cum,” he said, continuing his thrusts. “That's the idea, cowboy,” she said breathlessly, “Besides, we have the whole night ahead of us, you know, so why don't you go ahead and fill me up with your cum and make me cum, too?” “I can do that,” Dirk said again, both of them grinning. Dirk let himself go then, shoving his cock harder and faster in and out of Pat's tight, wet pussy, and her mouth fell open slightly as he fucked her harder and faster. She tightened her legs around his waist and squeezed hard, clamping down on his cock with her pussy just as hard, and it had the desired effect. A few moments later she heard Dirk cry out as his cock exploded inside her pussy, pumping and throbbing as stream after stream of hot, thick cum blasted out of the tip of his cock and filled her pussy to overflowing. She came immediately after he did, crying out loudly as her orgasm exploded deep inside her pussy. She gripped her big tits hard, the fingers digging into the soft flesh as the waves of pleasure rocked her body from head to toe, and she squeezed her legs tight around Dirk's waist as she continued to cum. She could feel his cock still pumping and throbbing inside her as he continued to cum, still thrusting through his orgasm. Dirk drove in deep and hard, holding his cock deep inside Pat's clutching pussy as the final streams of cum shot out of his cock, and he looked down at her face as her own orgasm ran its course. When it was finally all over they were both left gasping and panting for breath, Dirk covered in a fine layer of sweat. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, a very satisfied look on her face as she slowly relaxed her legs around his waist. She kept them locked around him to hold him in place, gently pushing her heels against his ass to push his slowly softening cock deeper inside her as the final sensations of her orgasm faded away. “Oh my God, I needed that!” she said, smiling up at him. “You have no idea just how bad I needed that!” “How long has it been, Pat?” he asked, holding himself still between her legs. “Too long,” she said, “longer than I care to think about.” “I'm glad I came along, then,” Dirk said, grinning down at her. She grinned back as she replied. “Not as glad as I am, cowboy,” she said, “and you're gonna be a lot more glad by the time morning rolls around, too! Like I said, we got all night ahead of us, and I'm gonna wear you out!” “You are, huh?” Dirk said, smiling down at her. “Damn right I am,” she said, reaching up and grabbing Dirk's head to pull his mouth down to hers. She kissed him hard and deep, her tongue snaking into his mouth as she squeezed his semi-hard cock with her pussy muscles. He could feel his cock start to harden again, and a few moments later he was lying on his back with Pat on top of him, her huge tits bouncing as she rode his cock hard on her way to another orgasm for the both of them. It was a very long and very enjoyable night for the both of them, and Pat made good on her promise to wear him out. Dirk couldn't remember when he'd been fucked that hard, that long, and that many times in one night. When Dirk rode away from Shady Oaks the next morning he did so with a smile on his face and a promise to stop by on his way home. He'd be a fool not to. By Original Aramis for Literotica

Adventures of Dirk: The Lady Farmer. Dirk has a sensual encounter with a robust lady farmer. By Original Aramis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The sun was lying low on the horizon, full dark not more than an hour off, when Dirk pulled his Harley into a parking space in front of the small general store in the center of town. He'd been on the road for two days and was halfway through a four-day trip, and this was just one of a dozen small Midwestern towns he'd passed through in the past 24 hours. They all looked the same after a while, like something out of “The Andy Griffith Show,” but he figured that wasn't really so bad after all. This town was smaller than most with no more than a dozen buildings lining each side of what he thought was Main Street, and as he looked around he didn't see what he was looking for. As he looked up and down both sides of the street he noticed that he was the center of attention, and he certainly understood why - there wasn't another bike in sight, much less another biker, and he knew that the locals certainly weren't used to long-haired strangers in old jeans, t-shirts, and leather vests festooned with club patches riding into town on a bike that sounded like thunder on two wheels. He took off his helmet, hung it on the mirror, and then walked towards the wooden door to the general store, stripping off his black leather fingerless gloves as he went. The air inside the store was cool, and it was a welcome relief from the heat of the late August afternoon. A bell over the door jingled as he walked in, and a man who must have been the owner looked up at him from behind the counter to Dirk's left. There was a woman standing on this side of the counter as well, but Dirk didn't pay much attention to her at first. “Howdy, stranger,” the man said, sounding like something out of an old Western movie. Dirk smiled a bit as he replied. “Hey, how are ya,” he said, pulling a red paisley bandana out of his back pocket and wiping his face. “Where are your drink coolers?” he asked, stuffing the bandana back in his pocket. “Rear of the store to your right,” the man said, pointing in that direction. “Thanks,” Dirk said, walking towards the coolers, his motorcycle boots clumping on the wooden floor. A few moments later he walked up to the counter and placed two big bottles of Gatorade on the counter. He nodded at the woman next to the counter and gave her a polite smile, and she smiled back. He was considerably taller than her; he stood six feet even, and she was five foot nothing at the most. “That do it for ya?” the man behind the counter asked. Dirk nodded as he replied. “Yeah, that's it,” he said as the man rang up the drinks. “That'll be three dollars and ten cents,” he said, reaching for a paper bag as Dirk pulled his leather wallet out of his other back pocket, the chain attached to it swinging. “That's okay, I don't need a bag,” Dirk said, pulling a five out of his wallet and handing it to the man. Then he picked up one of the bottles, twisted the cap off, and took a long drink out of it. It was cold and good, and it gave him chills as it went down. He took his change from the man and stuffed it in one of the side pockets of his vest, then took another smaller drink from the bottle before speaking again. “Is there a motel around here somewhere?” he asked the man behind the counter. “I didn't see one on the main drag out front.” “You didn't see one because they're ain't one,” the man replied, smiling at Dirk. “And the closest motel from here is in Junction City, about eighty miles thataway,” the man said, pointing down the road in the direction that Dirk was travelling. “Great, just freakin' great,” Dirk muttered. “Another hour and a half on the road…just what I need!” “You need a place to stay, cowboy?” the woman said, and Dirk turned and looked at her, really seeing her for the first time. She was short, about five feet tall, with sparkling blue eyes and short red hair worn in a “pageboy” style. She had a slightly round face, small pert nose and nice lips that were spread in a smile showing her white teeth. She was a solid woman, a little more stout than Dirk normally preferred, clad in a loose-fitting cotton long sleeve plaid shirt tucked into jeans that were tight enough to show off the considerable curves of her full, rounded ass and equally full thighs. The shirt was unbuttoned to the second button which showed enough cleavage to give Dirk a good indication of the mountanous breasts that tented out the front of the shirt. Dirk wondered when was the last time this woman saw her feet. It was an effort to tear his eyes away from the huge mounds of her breasts pushing out the front of her shirt, especially with all of the cleavage she was showing, but he managed it. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, nodding at her and giving her a small smile. She smiled back at him even bigger in return. “A barn would be just fine if you got one,” he continued. “My mother would roll over in her grave at my lack of hospitality if I made a house guest sleep in the barn!” the woman said, laughing. Her huge breasts jiggled in her shirt as she laughed, drawing Dirk's attention again. “I got a spare room in the back of the house that's yours if you want it, and you can keep your iron horse out in the barn,” she said, nodding to the bike parked in front of the store. “I sure appreciate that, ma'am,” Dirk replied, his smile a bit bigger as he spoke. “But don't you think you'd better check with your husband first? You coming home with a biker for an overnight house guest might not go over too well with him, ya know,” he said. The woman broke out in laughter at this, and the man behind the counter chuckled as well. Dirk gave them both a puzzled look, and then the woman spoke again. “Well, for starters, cowboy, my name is Pat,” she said, grinning hugely at him and sticking out her hand. He took her hand and shook it; and was surprised to find her grip firm and sure. “If you're gonna be sleeping under my roof tonight, I think it only right that we know each other's names, don't you?” “Fair enough; my name's Dirk,” he replied. “Pleased to meet you, Dirk!” Pat said, her blue eyes sparkling. “And as for the husband, well, there isn't one, so don't you worry about that! I threw his ass out years ago, the lazy good-for-nothing bastard! Now it's just me and Max, my Bassett Hound. I love him to death but he isn't much on conversation, so it'll be good to have someone to talk to over dinner tonight,” she said. “I appreciate your hospitality, Pat, I really do,” Dirk said, relaxing a bit and letting his smile get a little bigger. “But you have to let me pay you for the night or at least buy the food, something to return the favor.” Pat smiled up at him when he said this, and he saw a new, brighter sparkle in her blue eyes as she replied. “Oh, I'm sure you'll come up with something!” she said. She paused and looked up at him for a moment, grinning at him, then broke eye contact as she walked past him toward the door. “Sun's going down, so we'd better get a move on,” she said, opening the wooden door to the store. She turned and looked at him as he picked up the second bottle of Gatorade from the counter and turned to follow her. “You can follow me out to the farm; it's about ten miles south of here so we'll be there in about fifteen minutes or so.” Then she walked out of the store and over to an old but very well-kept customized Chevy S-10 pickup truck, getting in and starting the engine. Dirk quickly put the other bottle of Gatorade in his saddlebag, threw on his helmet and gloves, then got on the bike and fired it up. She drove out of town with him following behind her, the thunder of his pipes bouncing off of the few buildings there were in the center of town. Fifteen minutes later Pat turned off of the two-lane county blacktop road onto a dirt driveway that must have been at least a quarter of a mile long. The land on either side of the road was green with soybeans, and sitting at the end of the driveway right in the center of the huge expanse of farmland was a typical midwestern-style wooden white farmhouse with a green roof, green shutters on the windows and a wraparound porch. The house had several large, old oak trees around it, effectively putting the house in the shade for most of the day. Dirk could see the barn rising up behind the house, and he pulled his bike up to the barn as Pat parked the truck in front of the house. He got his bag of belongings out of the left saddlebag and walked around to the front of the house where Pat was waiting for him on the porch. She smiled at him as he walked up the wooden steps to the porch. “Welcome to ‘Shady Oaks,' my farm,” Pat said proudly. “I grow the best soybeans in the state here, and am damn proud of it!” “You work all this land all on your own, Pat?” Dirk asked, looking around at the vast expanse of farmland that surrounded the house. Pat laughed briefly before replying. “Hell, no! I let the hired help take care of that,” she explained, opening the front door and walking inside with Dirk following her. The inside of the house was dark and cool, just as Dirk imagined it would be. “I just keep the books, write the paychecks for the help, and put the rest of the money in the bank,” Pat said as she walked down the short hallway to the sitting room. Max the Bassett Hound was lying on the couch sleeping, and he slowly lifted his head to look at them as they came in the room. Pat scratched him on the top of his head as she walked past, and then Max dropped his head again and went back to sleep. She stopped in the center of the room and turned to Dirk as she continued. “The spare room is through that door and down the hall, the last room on the right,” she said, pointing down the hallway. “Why don't you go ahead and drop your gear, maybe wash the road grime from your face while I get started on dinner? The bathroom's right across the hall from your room,” she said. “Thanks, Pat, I appreciate that,” Dirk said, smiling at her. “I sure could use a shower; do I have time for that before dinner's ready?” “I'll make sure you do,” Pat said, smiling back. “Now you go on and take care of yourself while I get started on dinner!” Then she turned and walked out of the sitting room, heading for the kitchen. Dirk watched her go, admiring the swinging of her full, rounded ass as she walked. There was something about this woman that both intrigued and excited him, and even though his type was usually the slender blonde with big tits and no brains that could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch, there was something about this short, stout redheaded woman with big tits that he couldn't deny. He shook his head slightly and then headed for his room to drop his gear and then shower. When Pat heard the sound of his boots moving down the hallway, she stuck her head around the corner and watched him walk away. She wasn't sure if it was the long hair, the faded jeans, the muscled build glimpsed beneath his t-shirt, the leather vest with the biker club patches on it, the bike he rode or a combination of all of the above, but Pat knew that there was something about this man that both attracted and excited her. She felt a stirring in her loins whenever she looked at him, and she was feeling it now as she watched his tight ass walking down the hallway. She sighed as he opened the door to his room and went inside, smiling to herself as she started working on dinner. “I have a feeling this is gonna be a very interesting and exciting evening!” she said to herself, her smile growing bigger. The shower felt wonderful, and when Dirk was finished he put his jeans back on and got a clean t-shirt out of his bag, putting that on as well. He thought about putting his boots back on but decided not to; he had a feeling that Pat wouldn't mind the informality of it all. He also had a feeling he'd only be taking them off again later anyway, and not to go to bed. He walked out of the room barefoot, the aroma of dinner cooking on the stove filling the hallway and the rest of the house. “Smells great, Pat,” he said, walking into the kitchen. “And it tastes just as good!” she replied, smiling up at him. “Everything's ready, so have a seat at the table and let's eat,” she said. An hour later the meal was finished, the table cleared of dishes and the two of them were sitting at the table with a bottle of beer each. Dirk had suggested coffee but Pat had suggested beer instead, and Dirk readily agreed. He wasn't really much of a coffee drinker anyhow, and after the long, hot day he spent in the saddle he could use a beer or two. He took a drink from the long necked bottle, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Pat was watching him intently. She'd been eyeing him all through the meal, and he had to admit that he'd been eyeing her as well. Then he set the bottle down on the table in front of him and spoke. “That was one hell of a meal, Pat,” he said, and Pat smiled as she took a pull from her own bottle. “Best I've had in a long time, and I sure do appreciate you cooking it for me and giving me a place to stay for the night.” “Why, thank you, Mr. Dirk, I'm glad you enjoyed it!” she replied, smiling at him. “It's been a long time since I had the chance to cook for a good-looking man like yourself, so believe me when I tell you that the pleasure was all mine,” she said. “So how can I repay you for your hospitality?” Dirk asked, sitting forward and resting his elbows on the table. “You've got to let me do something for you, you know.” Pat leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table as well, creating about a mile of cleavage for Dirk to admire. “Like I said before, I'm sure you can come up with something,” Pat said in a quiet voice, her blue eyes looking deep into his as she smiled a slightly seductive, slightly wicked smile at him. Her choice of words was not lost on Dirk, and he felt a smile creep across his face. “Are you flirting with me, Pat?” he asked. “Yep,” she replied, still smiling that smile at him, and he could have sworn that she pushed her arms together slightly to create more cleavage for him to admire. “Is it working?” she asked. “Yep,” he replied, looking intently at her across the table. Her smile got bigger and more wicked. “Then why are we sitting here wasting time, when we could be in my room fucking our brains out?” she said, still smiling at Dirk who was more than a little surprised at her candor. Surprised and aroused, that is; he felt his cock twitch at her words. “Good question,” Dirk replied, feeling his cock begin to grow in his jeans. “Then let's go!” Pat said, getting up from her chair, grinning broader than ever. Dirk put his beer on the table and started to get up, but before he could Pat walked over to him and leaned over to kiss him, taking his head in her hands and planting her soft lips on his. The kiss was hot and intense, and it was apparent from the way Pat invaded his mouth with her tongue that this woman was more than ready to get down to some serious business. Dirk felt his cock begin to harden in his jeans, and it grew even more when Pat's hand dropped to his lap and squeezed his shaft. “imm, nice!” Pat said in a low voice, breaking the kiss and smiling at him. “I can't wait to suck on this and then smother it with my big tits!” “Speaking of which,” Dirk said, glancing down at her huge tits beneath the shirt and then looking back up at her. Pat got the hint and quickly pulled her shirt out of her jeans and began unbuttoning it. She opened the shirt to reveal her massive mounds encased in a semi-sheer bra, and Dirk wondered how it was strong enough to contain her obviously heavy breasts. The bra clasped in the front, and Pat quickly unhooked the clasp and pulled the two cups away from her tits, revealing them to Dirk. They were huge, round and full, swinging with their weight, the nipples hard as two pencil erasers and surrounded by large, pale pink areolas. Pat grabbed them in her hands and squeezed them together, then leaned forward and pushed them against Dirk's face. Dirk slid his arms around her waist as he latched on to one of her nipples, and Pat moaned as he sucked hard on the nub. She could feel her pussy getting wetter by the moment as Dirk sucked on first one and then the other nipple, and when he reached up to grasp her mounds in his hands she let them go and dropped her hand back down to his cock, rubbing and squeezing the big lump there. Dirk squeezed her huge tits hard, pressing them together as he sucked on her nipples and making Pat moan loudly. “Let's go, cowboy,” Pat said, breathing a bit faster as she pulled her tits away from Dirk's grasp and face. “If we don't get to my room right now I'm liable to fuck you right here on the kitchen table!” She grabbed his hand and nearly yanked him out of his chair, leading him down the hallway to her room. Once in her room she led him over to the big four poster bed, then turned to face him as she stripped off her shirt and bra that were both just hanging from her shoulders. She looked at Dirk with obvious lust in her eyes, and her eyes widened a bit when Dirk slipped off his shirt and she saw his muscled torso for the first time. She quickly unfastened her jeans and stepped out of them, her huge, heavy breasts swinging with her movements. She tossed the jeans aside and stood naked before Dirk, breathing heavy with excitement. She watched as he unfastened his own jeans and pushed them down over his hips and down his legs, her smile growing bigger when she saw his hard cock for the first time. “Nice cock, Dirk!” she said, smiling up at him. Then she walked over and dropped to her knees in front of him, reaching out and grasping his cock in her hand and gripping it tightly. She cupped his balls with her other hand as she pumped his cock once or twice, then opened her mouth and slid her lips over the head. It was obvious that she was in no mood for formalities and was eager to get right down to business as she slid her mouth all the way down the hard shaft, her soft, wet tongue sliding along the underside of his cock as she quickly deep-throated his entire length and sucked on it. She squeezed and massaged his balls as she sucked on his cock, her head bobbing up and down the length as she worked the shaft in and out of her mouth. “Damn, and she deep-throats, too!” Dirk said as he watched her working on his cock. She looked up at him and smiled as she continued sucking his cock, then released it from her mouth after a few more strokes. “And I swallow, too!” she said, pumping his cock as she spoke, “But that's for later; right now I want you to tif-fuck me before I fuck you!” She stood up and turned, walking the few steps over to the bed and climbing onto the big mattress. She lay on her back, her head on the pillows, then grabbed her huge mounds and pushed them together as she looked at Dirk. “Now bring that cock over here and let me wrap my big tits around it!” she said, and Dirk obliged. He climbed onto the bed and then straddled Pat's body, moving into position with his cock hovering over her mammoth tits. She held them apart as Dirk pressed his cock down, then clapped them together around his shaft. His cock disappeared from view between her huge tits, and she held them together tightly around his shaft. Dirk could feel the precum flowing from the tip of his cock, and he started moving his cock up and down between the massive globes to spread the slippery fluid around and make fucking her tits easier. “Yeah, baby, that's it,” Pat said, looking down at the head of his cock as it appeared at the top of her tits with each thrust. “Fuck my tits, baby, fuck my big tits!” Then she lowered her head down and licked the head of his cock as it appeared with each thrust, the valley between her tits now slippery with his precum. His cock was sliding easily between her huge tits as she squeezed them around his cock, her tongue licking the head with each thrust. Dirk pushed harder and forced his cock further out of her cleavage, and she immediately clamped her lips around the head and sucked hard. Dirk held his cock still for a moment to let her work on his cock with her lips and tongue, then resumed stroking her big tits. “Yeah, baby, just like that!” Pat said in a husky voice, looking up at him as he tit-fucked her. “You like fucking my big tits, Dirk?” she asked. “You like the way that feels, my big tits wrapped around your hard cock?” “Absolutely,” Dirk replied as he continued thrusting, reaching down to pull and tug on her hard nipples as he moved. “But I bet your pussy feels better,” he said. “So why don't you find out?” she said, and Dirk did just that. He slid his cock from between her huge tits and moved down her body as she opened her stout thighs for him. He could see that her closely-trimmed pussy was already wet, the outer lips glistening as she spread her legs wide for him. She gripped her big tits hard in her hands, pulling and tugging on the nipples as he placed the head of his cock against her opening. He slid the head inside, feeling the hot, silky wetness of her tunnel gripping him, and then she threw her legs around his waist and drove her heels into his ass, driving his cock into her pussy. She moaned loudly as his cock penetrated her hot, slick, tight pussy, and Dirk pushed harder to drive his cock balls-deep into her clutching pussy. “Ahhh, God yes!” Pat cried out, throwing her head back and closing her eyes as his cock impaled her. “That feels so good!” she said, lowering her head after a moment and opening her eyes to look at Dirk who was supporting himself over her with his hands on either side of her. “You like the way my pussy feels around your cock, Dirk?” she asked, squeezing his shaft with her inner muscles. “Your pussy feels fantastic!” Dirk replied. “Very hot, very wet, and very tight!” “The benefits of not having gone through childbirth,” Pat said, smiling up at him as she settled her legs tightly around his waist. “My pussy is just as tight now as it was when I was a teenager,” she said, “and now I want you to fuck me, cowboy, hard and fast!” “I can do that,” Dirk replied, grinning back at her. He began thrusting then, sliding his hard cock in and out of her tight pussy in long, hard, deep strokes. He knew that she wanted to be fucked hard, no formalities, just some good old-fashioned fucking, and he was just the man for the job. She squeezed her big tits together as he pounded his cock in and out of her, his hips banging against hers and his balls slapping against her ample ass as he fucked her. He lowered his head down to her massive chest and she held a big breast up for him, then gasped as he sucked the nipple into his mouth without stopping or slowing his thrusts. When he released the hard nub from his mouth she lowered her head and brought the hard nub up to her lips, clamping her own lips around it and sucking on it as Dirk continued to thrust in and out of her pussy. They took turns sucking on each nipple one at a time, and Dirk could feel her legs tightening around his waist and her pussy tightening around his cock. He knew she was getting ready to cum, and he knew that once she did that would set him off as well. “You keep that up, Pat, and you're gonna make me cum,” he said, continuing his thrusts. “That's the idea, cowboy,” she said breathlessly, “Besides, we have the whole night ahead of us, you know, so why don't you go ahead and fill me up with your cum and make me cum, too?” “I can do that,” Dirk said again, both of them grinning. Dirk let himself go then, shoving his cock harder and faster in and out of Pat's tight, wet pussy, and her mouth fell open slightly as he fucked her harder and faster. She tightened her legs around his waist and squeezed hard, clamping down on his cock with her pussy just as hard, and it had the desired effect. A few moments later she heard Dirk cry out as his cock exploded inside her pussy, pumping and throbbing as stream after stream of hot, thick cum blasted out of the tip of his cock and filled her pussy to overflowing. She came immediately after he did, crying out loudly as her orgasm exploded deep inside her pussy. She gripped her big tits hard, the fingers digging into the soft flesh as the waves of pleasure rocked her body from head to toe, and she squeezed her legs tight around Dirk's waist as she continued to cum. She could feel his cock still pumping and throbbing inside her as he continued to cum, still thrusting through his orgasm. Dirk drove in deep and hard, holding his cock deep inside Pat's clutching pussy as the final streams of cum shot out of his cock, and he looked down at her face as her own orgasm ran its course. When it was finally all over they were both left gasping and panting for breath, Dirk covered in a fine layer of sweat. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, a very satisfied look on her face as she slowly relaxed her legs around his waist. She kept them locked around him to hold him in place, gently pushing her heels against his ass to push his slowly softening cock deeper inside her as the final sensations of her orgasm faded away. “Oh my God, I needed that!” she said, smiling up at him. “You have no idea just how bad I needed that!” “How long has it been, Pat?” he asked, holding himself still between her legs. “Too long,” she said, “longer than I care to think about.” “I'm glad I came along, then,” Dirk said, grinning down at her. She grinned back as she replied. “Not as glad as I am, cowboy,” she said, “and you're gonna be a lot more glad by the time morning rolls around, too! Like I said, we got all night ahead of us, and I'm gonna wear you out!” “You are, huh?” Dirk said, smiling down at her. “Damn right I am,” she said, reaching up and grabbing Dirk's head to pull his mouth down to hers. She kissed him hard and deep, her tongue snaking into his mouth as she squeezed his semi-hard cock with her pussy muscles. He could feel his cock start to harden again, and a few moments later he was lying on his back with Pat on top of him, her huge tits bouncing as she rode his cock hard on her way to another orgasm for the both of them. It was a very long and very enjoyable night for the both of them, and Pat made good on her promise to wear him out. Dirk couldn't remember when he'd been fucked that hard, that long, and that many times in one night. When Dirk rode away from Shady Oaks the next morning he did so with a smile on his face and a promise to stop by on his way home. He'd be a fool not to. By Original Aramis for Literotica

Cabin Cousins: Part 5 The Gales of November. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connections. "Hmm" Melissa said, her face still buried in the pillow. She shifted and turned her head, and I moved to her side with one arm and a leg still draped over so we could look into each other's eyes. "Wow. That was..." She sighed. "...Wonderful." I smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did." She squinted at me. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming, and you're just a figment of my imagination?" She said playfully, though I could tell there was something serious behind the question. "I'm real, and I'm right here, in your bed, and I love you." She searched my eyes for a moment, rolled onto her side, and pulled me in close, kissing me deeply. When we stopped kissing to catch our breath, she whispered. "It's our bed, and I love you too." We held each other in silence for a long while. I knew that she had something else to say, but I didn't push her. Eventually, she broke the silence. "Do you want pancakes? I want pancakes." Not exactly the soul-baring statement I was expecting, but now that she had said it, by damn I wanted pancakes. "I'll help." I had made pancakes exactly once before, and it wasn't a complete disaster, so I felt that my inclusion in the process wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. She got a distant look in her eye, then rolled onto her back, and covered her face with her hands with a groan. "I don't have any pancake mix." She peeked at me through her fingers and we both started laughing. I'm not sure why but we both found it hilarious but we roared with laughter. I playfully pushed her towards the side of the bed. "Well, get dressed. I'll take you out for breakfast." Still laughing, she got up and opened a dresser drawer. Stepping into a pair of light blue panties, she asked. "Are you getting dressed too, or are you going to go like that?" "I'm thinking about it." I quipped, eyes following her every movement. I loved watching her move. She had a litheness and grace to her. Cat-like? No, that's not quite right. Amazonian? Maybe, but that implies a stature and bulk that Melissa didn't have. She was fit, not body builder muscular, and she wasn't particularly tall, just shy of my own five foot ten. She was perfect, and my eyes couldn't get enough of her. Let's leave it at that. "You'll give the old ladies at Perkins quite a shock." She shot back, still laughing. With an exaggerated sigh, I rolled off the bed. "For the sake of the old ladies, fine, I'll get dressed." Chapter Sixteen. The plate clinked as Melissa set down her fork. "Ugh. I ate too much, but that really hit the spot." She had attacked her "tremendous twelve" meal with murderous intent. All that remained was a scrap of crust from a piece of toast, and some maple syrup residue on an otherwise clean plate. She had even swiped a strip of bacon off of my plate, an act that left fork marks on my brother's hands on several occasions. I looked at my plate, with its pile of hash browns and a third of a stack of pancakes remaining, and set down my fork. "I guess I didn't work up as much of an appetite as you, cause I'm stuffed too." Melissa looked at me with her special smile and mischievous eyes. "Well, you'll have to try harder next time." "I need to work out more." "I can help with that." She replied, and we both giggled, knowing the truth of it. "Let's start with a walk." We left the Perkins restaurant, and with Melissa navigating, we drove north out of Duluth on Hwy 61. We pulled off and parked where a little river crossed under the road and spilled through a steep set of rocky rapids to Lake Superior below. We hiked down a little trail, and she led me out onto one of the big rocks. The scenery was spectacular, and the water rushing past the rocks had a hypnotic quality. It hadn't snowed last night, but the wind was blowing hard off the lake, and the constant mist from the rapids gave the crisp early November air some real bite. We sat for a while without speaking. Just two people holding hands, taking in the scenery and the roar of the water. There was a Gordon Lightfoot song that had something about the gales of November, how did it go? "When I left home," Melissa began, just loud enough to hear. I turned and watched her, careful to hear what she was saying over the noise of the rapids. I had been hoping for, and dreading this moment, when she decided to get the details of her past out in the open. I resolved to not interrupt and to let her tell it at her own pace. "This was the first place I went." She continued. "I didn't know where to go. I didn't have anywhere to go." She sniffed. We were alone but had someone been watching, her running nose and the tears on her cheek might have been assumed to have been caused by the cold, but I knew differently. I could see the deep down hurt that was welling up, and my heart ached. I squeezed her hand, and let her talk. "Every night for two weeks, I'd leave school, then go up the hill to the mall and sit in the food court to do my homework. When the mall closed, I came here, and parked for the night right over there." She pointed up to the little parking lot where my truck was. "I'd wake up, scrape the snow and frost off the windows, and go to school. I didn't tell anyone because then I'd have to explain why I was sleeping in a car in February. I had friends, but not close friends, you know? Like, not the kind of friends that I could talk to about..." She trailed off and wiped her nose on her jacket sleeve. "I had been lucky, it hadn't been as cold as it should have been, but then one night it got very cold. When I left the mall, I knew if I spent the night here again, I could be in serious danger. So I went to the laundromat. There was never anyone in there in the middle of the night, so I sat at one of the tables and fell asleep. The owner woke me up a couple of hours later, yelling at me that I couldn't sleep there, so I got in my car and came back here." She had been looking at the water as she spoke, but now turned and looked at me. I saw the fear and shame these memories invoked. I wanted to say something, anything to comfort her, but I knew that I should let her say what she needed to say, so I let her continue. "When I went to sleep on the back seat, I didn't think I was going to ever wake up, and I was okay with that. I didn't care that I was going to die. Nobody cared, nobody would miss me. The world would be better off without one more stupid girl. Why bother going on?" She looked away from me, east towards the vast lake, and her face twisted up in anger. "You know, the worst thing, the worst part of all of it, is they made me feel like it was all my fault. They had me so twisted up, that I believed that I was the cause of everything that happened." She turned back to me, the anger fading, leaving just a profound sadness. I wiped the tears from her cheek, and she leaned her shoulder against me. "Did your parents tell you what happened?" My throat was dry, and I swallowed hard before replying. "They were vague." She gave a little smile that was like a sunbeam on a stormy day. "I asked your mom and dad not to tell anyone. You're so lucky to have them." She looked back to the lake and spoke quietly enough that if her face had not been right next to mine, I wouldn't have been able to hear her. "When I was fifteen, when I started looking more like a woman, and less like a little girl, my dad started abusing me. Mom, she was drunk more than she was sober. She knew, she had to know, and she didn't do anything." As the River roared in its ceaseless path to Lake Superior, and the cold wind whistled and rattled through the leafless trees, Melissa spoke of abuse and divorce, lost jobs and social status, the failing of the system to help a girl who was too scared to ask for help and the blame that was assigned for all of it. "So that night, I remember when the state trooper knocked on my window." She gave a brief mirthless huff. "I thought he was an angel, with the way his flashlight lit up the frost on the inside of the window. I thought I was dead, that it was all over. I felt relieved." She shook her head. "The next thing I remember was being in a hospital bed, wrapped in electric blankets, and seeing the sunrise through the window. That trooper was there. He had stayed with me, way past the end of his shift, just to make sure I was alright. Turns out, when they went to my parent's house to see what was going on, my dad was out of town, and my mom ended up getting arrested for assaulting an officer and having a bunch of heroin. That's why she went back to him. Not for me, but for the money to buy her drugs. The trooper persuaded me to reach out to my friends. He said that people can be capable of unexpected acts of kindness, and I decided to believe him. So I called Ashley. We had always gotten along pretty well, and her parents were always super nice to me. They let me stay with them, which was really awkward at first. I just couldn't believe that a family could be so, so perfect. It was like stepping into an old sitcom. Maybe there was a little trouble now and then, but everyone loved each other, and it all worked out in the end. It was surreal, but eventually, I started believing that it was how families should be. That it was right and good, and normal." She looked me in the eyes then, and I saw her love burning through the hurt. "I didn't think that I would ever have that. I thought that there was no way I could ever open up and let someone love me, to be me, to be normal. Who could want me? Then your parents invited me back to the cabin, and I grasped onto a foolish hope that maybe you could. Ever since it's just been, It just doesn't seem real. Charles, I know you love me, but I'm still so afraid." I silenced her with a quick kiss on the lips. I held her cold, rosy cheeks in my hands and looked her in the eyes. "None of what happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I love you, I will always love you. Nothing in the past, present, or future will stop me from loving you until the end of time, and when we're both gone from this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!" Fresh tears streamed down her face, not tears of remembered pain, but tears of joyful love. She threw her arms around me and we held each other tight. Overhead, a hawk called, adding its little part to the scene of wind, water, and young lovers. Chapter Seventeen. Getting in my truck and leaving Duluth that evening was the hardest thing I had ever done. The only thing that gave me the strength to leave was the knowledge that it was only temporary. Soon, very soon, I would never have to leave her again. When I got home, Mom was at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. She greeted me with a smile. I had to be very careful with how I was going to handle this conversation. I didn't want to lie to my mom, but I also didn't want to tell her the whole truth. "How was your weekend? I didn't get a call from the cops, so it couldn't have been too exciting." "I was the cop! We went to a Halloween party dressed as the Village People." "Fun!" Mom exclaimed, giving me a beaming smile. "Yeah, and something else happened. Do you know how I can get my employee discount at any store? Well, we stopped at one of the stores in Duluth, and I ended up talking with the yard manager. They've been having trouble finding someone competent to drive a forklift, and if I transferred up there, they'd give me a raise and make me an assistant manager. He said I could start working up there in two weeks." All of these individual facts were technically true, but it still felt like lying. "Good for you! It's great to have in-demand skills. That's a long way to drive though." "Yeah, it would be like, five hours of driving every day." "Did you look into getting an apartment up there?" Mom folded up the newspaper and gave me her undivided attention. "After the school year starts, there's literally nothing cheap available." "Where would you stay then?" She asked, looking concerned. "Well, on the way home, I was thinking about who I know that lives up there. Rob lives in a dorm, so I couldn't get away with staying there long-term. But then I remembered that Melissa lives in Duluth, I could maybe call her and see if she wants a roommate." Okay, this last bit was a lie. I didn't feel good about it, but it had to be done. "Our Melissa? Have you called her yet?" "Not yet. I'm pretty sure I have her number in my phone." "You should figure this out sooner rather than later." She looked at the clock. "It's not too late, give her a call now." I made a show of finding Melissa's number as if I hadn't memorized it weeks ago. Melissa and I had rehearsed this moment. I had the volume on my phone turned way up, so my mom was sure to hear Melissa's side of the conversation too. "Hello?" Melissa's angelic voice asked after three rings. "Hi Melissa, it's Charles." "Charles! It's good to hear from you! What's up?" "Well, I'm going to be transferring up there for work, and I was wondering if you would mind having me as a roommate until I found a place of my own." Another necessary lie. "Yeah, I guess that would be okay. You're not going to find anywhere else to stay until the end of the school year. Even then, I was lucky to get this place, this spring." "So, you're okay with me staying with you?" "Yeah, it'll be fun. Like staying at the cabin, but I don't think my landlord would approve of campfires." "I'll pay half the rent, and utilities, and everything." "Naturally," Melissa said. "I was going to ask one of my friends if they wanted to move in. Only paying half the rent will make saving for school a lot easier." "Cool. So, I guess I'll give you a call tomorrow, and we can figure out the details?" "Yeah, okay." "I'm talking with my mom right now, so I should probably let you go." "Hi Mom!" Melissa yelled. "Hi, Melissa," Mom replied, loud enough to be sure that the phone picked it up. "Talk to you tomorrow, bye!" Melissa said, much quieter this time. "Bye." I had to be very careful not to reflexively say I love you. I put my phone away and noticed that my mom was studying me with a funny little smile on her face. Then in the most casual tone, she asked. "So, does she love you as much as you love her?" My heart nearly stopped. I couldn't respond. "That was a lovely charade. Unnecessary, but lovely." I couldn't speak. My brain frantically searched for words but found only shocked silence. "Oh, honey." She began, in a soothing motherly voice. "You're my baby. Did you think I wouldn't know? It was plain to see at the cabin that you two are in love. You spent the weekend with her?" I forced myself to reply. "Yes," I said, fearing that it was all over. I felt like crying. "Good," Mom said simply. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Mom knew about me and Melissa, and she was... Happy for me? "So, you're not mad about us?" "Oh, Charles. Love is so precious. It doesn't matter where you find it, but when you do, you hold on with both hands and never let go." My tears came then, flowing hard as I released all my pent-up fears and anxiety. Mom held me as I cried on her shoulder. She gently rubbed my back like she used to do when I was a kid. When my crying subsided, she held my shoulders at arm's length. "Now, tell me about her." I did. In the conversation that followed, I was more honest and open about my feelings than I could remember being to anyone other than Melissa. I explained how we knew what each other was thinking or feeling, just by looking into each other's eyes. I told her how I wanted to improve myself, to be a better person for Melissa. And, looking back on it with a touch of horror, I did my best to explain the connection I felt with Melissa when we made love. Throughout it all, my mother was nothing but caring and understanding. After all the fear of this moment, it was surreal. It felt so good, so liberating to tell her how I felt about Melissa. When I was done, I asked Mom. "Does Dad know?" "Oh, I doubt he picked up on it." "Are you going to tell him?" Of all the people in the family, I was sure that Dad would be the least likely to accept. He had always been very traditional. Kind and gentle, but with a very strict moral compass. "Of course. He's my husband. The way you feel about Melissa, I feel about him." She hugged me again. "Don't be ashamed. Love her with all your heart, and everything else will work itself out." She kissed me on the cheek and told me that she loved me. I told her that I loved her too, and said goodnight. I went to my bedroom, shut the door, and called Melissa. "What's up?" She answered. "I didn't think I'd hear from you until tomorrow." Deciding to just be direct about it, I said. "My mother has officially given us her blessing." The line was silent as Melissa processed this. When she spoke, I could tell that she was crying. "How did she find out?" She asked. I recounted the whole conversation. "See? I told you your mom was the best." "She really is." "So, what now?" She asked, with a bit of anxiety. "She said that she had to tell everyone because it's better to have it out in the open than have to keep lying to the family. I agreed." After a short pause, Melissa said. "Me too." As it turns out, my family's reaction was both better than I had feared and worse than I had hoped. My parents had called a family meeting and all of my immediate family, and their spouses, showed up. There were those like my mom, and my brother Mark, who were supportive and genuinely happy for me. On the other end of things, there were people like my second older brother, Stephen, and his wife, who were disgusted and called me a pervert. Most were somewhere in the middle, either not understanding and being polite about it, or just ambivalent to the whole issue. Then there was my dad. He just sat there the whole time, with a frown on his face, and never spoke a word. I couldn't tell if he was ashamed, or angry, or what, and it tore me up inside. He had never in his life been shy about voicing his opinion. After my mom, he was who I needed acceptance from the most. I desperately wanted him to say something, anything, but he never did. His silence cut deeper than any insult or accusation ever could. At the beginning, and with prompting from my mom, I had stood before everyone, confessing Melissa's and my love for each other, and that I was moving out to live with her in Duluth. After the initial shock and spectrum of reactions, I sat down and answered questions. Now, not being able to bear my father's silence any longer, I stood again, interrupting several side conversations. I addressed the whole group, but my words were meant for my father more than anyone. "Melissa and I truly love each other. Nothing you do or say can change it. Accept it, accept us, or don't. I don't care." Dad didn't react, didn't even look me in the eyes. I rushed to my room and locked the door. I curled up on my bed and cried, harder than I could remember ever crying before. The stress of the family meeting and my dad's non-reaction had utterly destroyed me. I held a pillow over my head to muffle the sounds of my uncontrollable sobs, and to hide my face from the world. "What if they're right about you?" A part of my mind asked. "What if you're just a sicko. That's what they all think." "No! I really do love her!" Another part of my mind answered. "What kind of weirdo falls in love with his cousin? What kind of deviant fucks someone in his own family?" "No! Our love is pure and perfect!" "Yeah, perfect. The perfect fantasy of a clinically twisted pervert! You're just taking advantage of a poor broken girl." "No..." I moaned aloud, holding my head in my hands. Sometime after, someone knocked lightly on my bedroom door. I ignored it, lost as I was in terrible contradictory thoughts. The knock came again, and I heard my mom's voice. "Charles, honey. Can I come in?" I didn't respond, knowing that right then I couldn't bear to face anyone, even my mother. "Oh, my baby." She said through the door. "All I want is for you to be happy. Follow your heart, everything will work out. I love you." Her words quieted the thoughts whirling through my mind, and though my sobs faded, the tears continued to flow. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. I closed my eyes and imagined Melissa lying next to me. I thought about how if she were here, she would comfort me, and wipe the tears from my face. I could see her so clearly in my mind, see how her icy blue eyes would pour her inexhaustible love into me. Soon, my tears stopped flowing, and I regained a sense of peace. I felt awful for doubting myself, for doubting Melissa, if even for a moment. Our love is right. It is pure and perfect. She made me complete, as I made her complete. I drifted off to sleep, with a smile on my face, thinking about Melissa, and dreaming about the future. Chapter Eighteen. Charles copes with changes, but the biggest is yet to happen. The armrests of the padded chair where I was seated were a little too high to be comfortable, so I kept my hands folded in my lap. I gazed at the paintings of calm rural scenes hung on the walls of the spacious office. I wondered absently if they were real places or just the artist's impression of idyllic country life. I glanced at the woman in the matching chair positioned across from me. She was patiently waiting for me to continue my story, with an encouraging expression on her face. "I moved my things into Melissa's apartment a few days later and spent the night with her a couple of times when I had the day off. After the two weeks were up, I started work at the Duluth store and lived with her from then on. I think the only word to describe the years that followed is heavenly. I wouldn't have changed a single thing." "Tell me more about how your family reacted," said the woman, Dr. Clarke. "Did your father and brother ever come around?" "Dad? Yeah, he just needed a little time to process it. After that, he was as good with it as Mom was. The thing with him was, years before, before anyone knew what had been going on with Melissa's dad, he'd known that something was wrong. I'm not sure how, but he knew. After Melissa left home, he would call and check in on her. He paid to have her car fixed and even paid the deposit on her apartment. He always went out of his way to make her feel like she had people that cared. I think he loved her as if she were his own daughter, so the whole thing with the two of us was kind of a shock. When Melissa and I went to my parent's place for Thanksgiving, later that month; and he saw firsthand how happy she was, it wasn't an issue." "And your brother, Stephen?" Dr. Clarke prompted. "That same Thanksgiving, I ended up knocking him down with a punch to the face. He said that Melissa's family were all degenerates and that Melissa was just bringing that degeneracy to our family now. That was the last time I ever saw him." I forced my clenched fists to relax and laid my palms flat on my thighs. "Have you ever thought about reaching out to him? People can change a lot in twenty-four years." "No," I said firmly. "It was his choice to ostracize himself from our family, and I want nothing to do with someone capable of being so deliberately malicious. He knew that she was just beginning to heal the trauma that had been done to her; and had said what he did, specifically to hurt her. Someone capable of doing that will always be capable of doing it." "You might be surprised by how much people can change," She said, as she scribbled a few lines in her notepad. "Maybe," I said, brows furrowing. Those words had made their way into Melissa's nightmares. My fists clenched again, as I remembered all the times I was awoken in the middle of the night by her sobs. I remembered how helpless I felt, being able to do nothing but console her; and hold her until she fell back asleep. My knuckles were white, and my fists trembled slightly. I saw Dr. Clarke glance down at my hands, but she did not indicate what she was thinking. Therapists must make superb poker players. "Some things just can't be forgiven," I said quietly, forcing my hands to relax. "Again, you might be surprised. We can talk more about that next week." She set aside her notepad and glanced up at the clock on the wall behind me. "Now close your eyes, and concentrate on your breathing. Take a slow deep breath, imagining all your negative emotions as a tangible thing. Now breathe out slowly as all those emotions evaporate and exit your body like smoke. Again, deep inhale, and out. Good. Feel your mind become still as your breath carries away the pain. Once more, in, and out. Good." For some reason, this technique worked for me. If left alone, my thoughts naturally gravitated to the bad memories, and each one brought two more with it until I became overwhelmed. I would become mentally gridlocked to the point of not being able to function in everyday life. "When I say the word joy, what is the first thing that pops into your mind?" My eyes were still closed, and I smiled. "Melissa's face when she first saw me that October weekend reunion, at the cabin." "Good. Keep up your breathing exercise. All the pain is gone, only the joy remains. Describe the scene for me. What else do you see? What do you smell and hear?" A single tear rolled down my cheek. I'm not sure why I started to cry, whether it was joy in the image of her, so happy and full of promise for the future, or sorrow because that future is gone. I would never again see her smile. "Sunbeams cut down through the trees, lighting up smoke drifting from the fire pit. She passes through one, and her hair glows like golden fire. I smell the white pines, strong in the soft breeze, and the smell of burning oak. A loon call echoes up from the lake, and all around the cabin yard, there is the quiet burble of conversations and laughter." I wiped the tears from my face with a flannel shirt sleeve and looked away from Dr. Clarke. I still felt embarrassed to cry in front of another person. "That sounds lovely. Hold on to that moment, use it as a refuge." She glanced at the clock again and stood. I stood as well, taking a tissue from the box on the coffee table to dry my eyes. She walked me to her office door. "Thank you for sharing today, Charles. I think you are doing very well." As she opened the door, she asked. "Have you gone to the aromatherapy shop we talked about last week?" "No," I said dejectedly. "I was going to, but..." I had meant to go, but sometimes certain things were just impossible to make myself do. Going into an unfamiliar place and talking to a stranger was one of those things. Sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn't. This hadn't been a particularly good week, and the thought of talking to someone new, someone who would ask questions about why I was there, questions that would bring up painful memories, was simply unthinkable. Yesterday, I had made it all the way to my car and had the key in the ignition, but then I just sat there, unable to make myself go through with it. "That's ok." Said Dr. Clarke. I knew she knew why I didn't go, and I had gotten to the point where I felt safe sharing my feelings with her, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of shame. "Addy is very good at what she does, and she has helped many of my clients. She's a friend." I nodded and started moving through the doorway. Ending conversations always seemed so awkward. I never knew what to say. "Thank you for being so open today, Charles. See you again next week." She was looking at my eyes, and I met her gaze briefly before looking away. In recent years, I had become very uncomfortable making anything more than the briefest of eye contact with people, especially women, so I was usually at a huge disadvantage when it came to reading people's motivations and emotions. In that brief glimpse though, I caught the impression of empathy and a real desire to help. It felt really good to know that someone cared. I gave her a genuine smile and left. I left her office with the intention of going directly to the shop she had recommended, but by the time I was in my car, I just... couldn't. This is what my life had become. I could go from being on the verge of drowning in a sea of sorrow to feeling positive and optimistic in an instant, then back just as fast. But mostly, it was what I called 'the gray'. I am self-aware enough to understand how it began. Instead of dealing with certain traumatic events, my brain decided that it was easier and far less painful, just to push them aside. The problem is, that those things don't just go away. No matter how hard you push them down, they keep bubbling back up, and you end up pushing everything away in the effort. Then one day you realize that living in the gray was the only way to survive because every little bit of emotion, good or bad, could open the gates and let all the pain come rushing in. I had pushed everything and everyone aside for the sake of self-preservation, and it was killing me. I knew I needed help. I knew that the person I was, wasn't really me. The problem was, I had been in the gray so long, that I couldn't remember how it was before, not really. I knew that I had been happy once, that I had hopes and dreams. But that was all gone, lost in the gray. Chapter Nineteen. The next day turned out to be one of the good ones. I was able to get myself out of bed, dressed, and in the car. I decided that I would finally make it to this aromatherapy shop Dr. Clarke wanted me to go to. I turned the key in the ignition, and my geriatric Honda Civic purred to life. I quickly released the emergency brake and shifted into reverse. I backed out of my parking spot with a sigh. There, I did it. The hard part was over, and now that I had started the task, it would be easier to go through with it. Don't ask me why that makes sense, I wouldn't know how to even start explaining. I enjoyed my drive across town. It was a beautiful day in Duluth. Down near Lake Superior, it was a little breezy and a comfortable 65 degrees, perfect for driving with the windows down. Climbing the hill on 194, the farther I got away from the lake, the hotter it got. By the time I got to the shop, it was nearly 80 degrees, and I had begun to sweat. A typical July day in the Twin Ports. I've always said, that this was one of the things I loved most about living in Duluth. It could be hot as hell up on top of the hill, but if the wind was right, it was always cool near the lake. I shut the car off and set the E brake. I wiped a bit of sweat off my brow, and it occurred to me that I was wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday and that I hadn't showered. Hit with a sudden wave of shame and embarrassment about meeting someone new in this state, I almost just left to go back home. With an effort of willpower, I opened the car door and stepped out. Task begun. I walked in and was greeted by a smiling older lady that I assumed was Addy. "Hi, um, Dr. Clarke sent me." Addy's smile widened. "Oh, come in, come in. I'm Addy." "I'm Charles," I replied, meeting her eyes for the briefest moment. "Pleased to meet you, Charles. How is Rose doing these days?" Dr. Clarke's first name was Virginia. She had grown up in Virginia, Minnesota, and I think she was still annoyed by her unimaginative parents, because she liked to use her middle name, Rose. I almost exclusively used 'Dr. Clarke' when speaking with or about her. "I've been seeing her for a couple of months now. She's nice." I never seemed to know how to answer questions like that. I grimaced inwardly at my awkwardness. "She's a sweetheart, and good at her job. I saw her for years." She led me over to a glass counter filled with hundreds of small labeled bottles. "So, are we looking for something to help you relax?" "Something to help me remember." I paused briefly, trying to find the right words. "Well, remembering isn't the issue." I felt a rush of awkwardness and a little bit of embarrassment in talking about something so personal with a stranger. My cheeks flushed, and I looked at the bottles in the case to ensure I didn't accidentally make eye contact. "I want to be able to focus on just the one thing." "Tell me about it." I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. "There's smoke from the campfire, mostly oak. Maybe a tiny bit of something acrid, like someone had thrown a plastic plate in the fire." As I spoke, I could hear Addy selecting a few bottles from a rack within the display case. "Pine trees. Even with the smoke, the pines smell strong." "Spruce?" Addy asked politely. "No, White Pine. The needles and sap are everywhere." "Anything else?" I took another deep breath but didn't reply. "Sometimes there's things around us that have a scent, but we're either too used to it, or its faint enough that we don't remember without smelling it. What else was there? Is this a campground?" Addy asked in what I recognized as being in a deliberately unobtrusive way. "It's a cabin," I replied, searching the mental image for things that may have a scent. "It's an old log cabin, surrounded by white pines. There's a log pile. My brother had been using the chainsaw earlier. My truck is parked in the driveway, it smells like gas because the tank leaks a little bit. Someone had mowed the little patch of grass in front of the cabin." "Is there anyone there, wearing perfume or aftershave?" I nodded my head in the affirmative. Addy gave me time to answer. "She..." I struggled to find words to describe Melissa's scent. How do you describe such a thing to someone? How do you describe a sunset to a blind person, or describe to a deaf person the emotions evoked by the Moonlight Sonata? She smelled like love, and I still smell her on the clothes I keep in her dresser. "You know how strawberry plants don't smell like strawberry? Not like the fake strawberry candy scent?" Of course, she did, but I went on. "A strawberry blossom. Delicate, faint, with just the promise of sweetness." "She was someone special," Addy said, in more of a statement than a question. "I ended up marrying her. She;" A tear rolled down my cheek. "Nine years ago;" I just couldn't force the words out of my mouth. I could tell Addy the exact date and time. I could tell her that we had just gone to see The Martian in the movie theater and that the night was clear and cool after the late August thunderstorm earlier that afternoon. I could tell her what song was playing on the radio. I could tell her the look on Melissa's face when the headlights crossed through the median in front of us. What I couldn't say, was physically unable to, was that nine years ago, Melissa died. "It's okay, dear," Addy said. She had a grandmotherly voice, full of kindness and understanding. For the briefest of moments, the power of that gentle voice made me believe that yes, everything would be okay. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll have something for you to try." I nodded and wandered away from the counter, absently browsing the candles and incense as I tried to compose myself. As I looked through the shop it occurred to me how posh the place seemed. High-dollar products are meant to be sold to people who have the luxury of ignoring price tags. I did not have that luxury. I felt anxiety and a general shame of the complete fuck up I had become. If this costs more than about forty dollars, I wouldn't be able to afford groceries this week. "Charles, it's ready," Addy called from the other side of the store. I walked over and closed my eyes as she extended a small glass bottle filled with clear liquid. I breathed deeply and conjured the scene in my mind. The scent of Addy's mixture hit me like a lightning bolt. It was like reading a book in the dark, and then someone turned on the lights. Everything came into sharp focus like I was there. The smoke, the pines, and, My breath caught in my throat. Buried deep within the mix there was something light, something so tenuous you hardly knew it was there. It was Melissa. In my mind, she threw herself into my arms, and I could smell her. I could smell her. "How?" I asked, looking her in the eyes for the first time since my initial glance. Addy smiled warmly, and I could see genuine care in her face, not just the politeness of a shop owner to a customer. "If she had been wearing perfume, it would have been harder. We remember scents much better than we think we do. Sometimes all we need is a little hint, and it's brought right to the front." Dr. Clarke was right, Addy was good. "Your idea about the strawberry flowers was good. They're very faint and don't smell like much at all, definitely not strawberries. But when you know that you have strawberry flowers, and you smell them, your brain brings up the memory of strawberries. Scents are all connected in our minds, and are rooted deep down at the very foundation of memory." Addy put a rubber stopper in the bottle and carefully placed the bottle in a velvet pouch with her shop's logo on it. She held it out for me to take. A tear dripped off my jaw, and I quickly wiped my face on a sleeve. "How much?" I started to ask, again acutely aware of my wrinkled clothes, my general lack of personal hygiene, and the depressingly small balance of my bank account. Addy cut me off with a raised hand. "Rose is a friend of mine, and any friend of hers is also a friend of mine." She pushed the velvet bag into my hands. "No, I can't;" Addy stopped me again. "Most of my clients just want something that smells nice in their bathroom, or to cover the smell of weed. I'm perfectly happy to take their money." She placed her hands on mine, still clutching the velvet bag. "It's very rare that I get to help someone. Take it as a gift, with my thanks." I was speechless, and fresh tears rolled down my face. I couldn't remember the last time someone was so altruistically kind to me. "Thank you." Was all I could say. To be continued in part 6. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts, for Literotica.

Cabin Cousins: Part 5 The Gales of November. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connections. "Hmm" Melissa said, her face still buried in the pillow. She shifted and turned her head, and I moved to her side with one arm and a leg still draped over so we could look into each other's eyes. "Wow. That was..." She sighed. "...Wonderful." I smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did." She squinted at me. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming, and you're just a figment of my imagination?" She said playfully, though I could tell there was something serious behind the question. "I'm real, and I'm right here, in your bed, and I love you." She searched my eyes for a moment, rolled onto her side, and pulled me in close, kissing me deeply. When we stopped kissing to catch our breath, she whispered. "It's our bed, and I love you too." We held each other in silence for a long while. I knew that she had something else to say, but I didn't push her. Eventually, she broke the silence. "Do you want pancakes? I want pancakes." Not exactly the soul-baring statement I was expecting, but now that she had said it, by damn I wanted pancakes. "I'll help." I had made pancakes exactly once before, and it wasn't a complete disaster, so I felt that my inclusion in the process wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. She got a distant look in her eye, then rolled onto her back, and covered her face with her hands with a groan. "I don't have any pancake mix." She peeked at me through her fingers and we both started laughing. I'm not sure why but we both found it hilarious but we roared with laughter. I playfully pushed her towards the side of the bed. "Well, get dressed. I'll take you out for breakfast." Still laughing, she got up and opened a dresser drawer. Stepping into a pair of light blue panties, she asked. "Are you getting dressed too, or are you going to go like that?" "I'm thinking about it." I quipped, eyes following her every movement. I loved watching her move. She had a litheness and grace to her. Cat-like? No, that's not quite right. Amazonian? Maybe, but that implies a stature and bulk that Melissa didn't have. She was fit, not body builder muscular, and she wasn't particularly tall, just shy of my own five foot ten. She was perfect, and my eyes couldn't get enough of her. Let's leave it at that. "You'll give the old ladies at Perkins quite a shock." She shot back, still laughing. With an exaggerated sigh, I rolled off the bed. "For the sake of the old ladies, fine, I'll get dressed." Chapter Sixteen. The plate clinked as Melissa set down her fork. "Ugh. I ate too much, but that really hit the spot." She had attacked her "tremendous twelve" meal with murderous intent. All that remained was a scrap of crust from a piece of toast, and some maple syrup residue on an otherwise clean plate. She had even swiped a strip of bacon off of my plate, an act that left fork marks on my brother's hands on several occasions. I looked at my plate, with its pile of hash browns and a third of a stack of pancakes remaining, and set down my fork. "I guess I didn't work up as much of an appetite as you, cause I'm stuffed too." Melissa looked at me with her special smile and mischievous eyes. "Well, you'll have to try harder next time." "I need to work out more." "I can help with that." She replied, and we both giggled, knowing the truth of it. "Let's start with a walk." We left the Perkins restaurant, and with Melissa navigating, we drove north out of Duluth on Hwy 61. We pulled off and parked where a little river crossed under the road and spilled through a steep set of rocky rapids to Lake Superior below. We hiked down a little trail, and she led me out onto one of the big rocks. The scenery was spectacular, and the water rushing past the rocks had a hypnotic quality. It hadn't snowed last night, but the wind was blowing hard off the lake, and the constant mist from the rapids gave the crisp early November air some real bite. We sat for a while without speaking. Just two people holding hands, taking in the scenery and the roar of the water. There was a Gordon Lightfoot song that had something about the gales of November, how did it go? "When I left home," Melissa began, just loud enough to hear. I turned and watched her, careful to hear what she was saying over the noise of the rapids. I had been hoping for, and dreading this moment, when she decided to get the details of her past out in the open. I resolved to not interrupt and to let her tell it at her own pace. "This was the first place I went." She continued. "I didn't know where to go. I didn't have anywhere to go." She sniffed. We were alone but had someone been watching, her running nose and the tears on her cheek might have been assumed to have been caused by the cold, but I knew differently. I could see the deep down hurt that was welling up, and my heart ached. I squeezed her hand, and let her talk. "Every night for two weeks, I'd leave school, then go up the hill to the mall and sit in the food court to do my homework. When the mall closed, I came here, and parked for the night right over there." She pointed up to the little parking lot where my truck was. "I'd wake up, scrape the snow and frost off the windows, and go to school. I didn't tell anyone because then I'd have to explain why I was sleeping in a car in February. I had friends, but not close friends, you know? Like, not the kind of friends that I could talk to about..." She trailed off and wiped her nose on her jacket sleeve. "I had been lucky, it hadn't been as cold as it should have been, but then one night it got very cold. When I left the mall, I knew if I spent the night here again, I could be in serious danger. So I went to the laundromat. There was never anyone in there in the middle of the night, so I sat at one of the tables and fell asleep. The owner woke me up a couple of hours later, yelling at me that I couldn't sleep there, so I got in my car and came back here." She had been looking at the water as she spoke, but now turned and looked at me. I saw the fear and shame these memories invoked. I wanted to say something, anything to comfort her, but I knew that I should let her say what she needed to say, so I let her continue. "When I went to sleep on the back seat, I didn't think I was going to ever wake up, and I was okay with that. I didn't care that I was going to die. Nobody cared, nobody would miss me. The world would be better off without one more stupid girl. Why bother going on?" She looked away from me, east towards the vast lake, and her face twisted up in anger. "You know, the worst thing, the worst part of all of it, is they made me feel like it was all my fault. They had me so twisted up, that I believed that I was the cause of everything that happened." She turned back to me, the anger fading, leaving just a profound sadness. I wiped the tears from her cheek, and she leaned her shoulder against me. "Did your parents tell you what happened?" My throat was dry, and I swallowed hard before replying. "They were vague." She gave a little smile that was like a sunbeam on a stormy day. "I asked your mom and dad not to tell anyone. You're so lucky to have them." She looked back to the lake and spoke quietly enough that if her face had not been right next to mine, I wouldn't have been able to hear her. "When I was fifteen, when I started looking more like a woman, and less like a little girl, my dad started abusing me. Mom, she was drunk more than she was sober. She knew, she had to know, and she didn't do anything." As the River roared in its ceaseless path to Lake Superior, and the cold wind whistled and rattled through the leafless trees, Melissa spoke of abuse and divorce, lost jobs and social status, the failing of the system to help a girl who was too scared to ask for help and the blame that was assigned for all of it. "So that night, I remember when the state trooper knocked on my window." She gave a brief mirthless huff. "I thought he was an angel, with the way his flashlight lit up the frost on the inside of the window. I thought I was dead, that it was all over. I felt relieved." She shook her head. "The next thing I remember was being in a hospital bed, wrapped in electric blankets, and seeing the sunrise through the window. That trooper was there. He had stayed with me, way past the end of his shift, just to make sure I was alright. Turns out, when they went to my parent's house to see what was going on, my dad was out of town, and my mom ended up getting arrested for assaulting an officer and having a bunch of heroin. That's why she went back to him. Not for me, but for the money to buy her drugs. The trooper persuaded me to reach out to my friends. He said that people can be capable of unexpected acts of kindness, and I decided to believe him. So I called Ashley. We had always gotten along pretty well, and her parents were always super nice to me. They let me stay with them, which was really awkward at first. I just couldn't believe that a family could be so, so perfect. It was like stepping into an old sitcom. Maybe there was a little trouble now and then, but everyone loved each other, and it all worked out in the end. It was surreal, but eventually, I started believing that it was how families should be. That it was right and good, and normal." She looked me in the eyes then, and I saw her love burning through the hurt. "I didn't think that I would ever have that. I thought that there was no way I could ever open up and let someone love me, to be me, to be normal. Who could want me? Then your parents invited me back to the cabin, and I grasped onto a foolish hope that maybe you could. Ever since it's just been, It just doesn't seem real. Charles, I know you love me, but I'm still so afraid." I silenced her with a quick kiss on the lips. I held her cold, rosy cheeks in my hands and looked her in the eyes. "None of what happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I love you, I will always love you. Nothing in the past, present, or future will stop me from loving you until the end of time, and when we're both gone from this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!" Fresh tears streamed down her face, not tears of remembered pain, but tears of joyful love. She threw her arms around me and we held each other tight. Overhead, a hawk called, adding its little part to the scene of wind, water, and young lovers. Chapter Seventeen. Getting in my truck and leaving Duluth that evening was the hardest thing I had ever done. The only thing that gave me the strength to leave was the knowledge that it was only temporary. Soon, very soon, I would never have to leave her again. When I got home, Mom was at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. She greeted me with a smile. I had to be very careful with how I was going to handle this conversation. I didn't want to lie to my mom, but I also didn't want to tell her the whole truth. "How was your weekend? I didn't get a call from the cops, so it couldn't have been too exciting." "I was the cop! We went to a Halloween party dressed as the Village People." "Fun!" Mom exclaimed, giving me a beaming smile. "Yeah, and something else happened. Do you know how I can get my employee discount at any store? Well, we stopped at one of the stores in Duluth, and I ended up talking with the yard manager. They've been having trouble finding someone competent to drive a forklift, and if I transferred up there, they'd give me a raise and make me an assistant manager. He said I could start working up there in two weeks." All of these individual facts were technically true, but it still felt like lying. "Good for you! It's great to have in-demand skills. That's a long way to drive though." "Yeah, it would be like, five hours of driving every day." "Did you look into getting an apartment up there?" Mom folded up the newspaper and gave me her undivided attention. "After the school year starts, there's literally nothing cheap available." "Where would you stay then?" She asked, looking concerned. "Well, on the way home, I was thinking about who I know that lives up there. Rob lives in a dorm, so I couldn't get away with staying there long-term. But then I remembered that Melissa lives in Duluth, I could maybe call her and see if she wants a roommate." Okay, this last bit was a lie. I didn't feel good about it, but it had to be done. "Our Melissa? Have you called her yet?" "Not yet. I'm pretty sure I have her number in my phone." "You should figure this out sooner rather than later." She looked at the clock. "It's not too late, give her a call now." I made a show of finding Melissa's number as if I hadn't memorized it weeks ago. Melissa and I had rehearsed this moment. I had the volume on my phone turned way up, so my mom was sure to hear Melissa's side of the conversation too. "Hello?" Melissa's angelic voice asked after three rings. "Hi Melissa, it's Charles." "Charles! It's good to hear from you! What's up?" "Well, I'm going to be transferring up there for work, and I was wondering if you would mind having me as a roommate until I found a place of my own." Another necessary lie. "Yeah, I guess that would be okay. You're not going to find anywhere else to stay until the end of the school year. Even then, I was lucky to get this place, this spring." "So, you're okay with me staying with you?" "Yeah, it'll be fun. Like staying at the cabin, but I don't think my landlord would approve of campfires." "I'll pay half the rent, and utilities, and everything." "Naturally," Melissa said. "I was going to ask one of my friends if they wanted to move in. Only paying half the rent will make saving for school a lot easier." "Cool. So, I guess I'll give you a call tomorrow, and we can figure out the details?" "Yeah, okay." "I'm talking with my mom right now, so I should probably let you go." "Hi Mom!" Melissa yelled. "Hi, Melissa," Mom replied, loud enough to be sure that the phone picked it up. "Talk to you tomorrow, bye!" Melissa said, much quieter this time. "Bye." I had to be very careful not to reflexively say I love you. I put my phone away and noticed that my mom was studying me with a funny little smile on her face. Then in the most casual tone, she asked. "So, does she love you as much as you love her?" My heart nearly stopped. I couldn't respond. "That was a lovely charade. Unnecessary, but lovely." I couldn't speak. My brain frantically searched for words but found only shocked silence. "Oh, honey." She began, in a soothing motherly voice. "You're my baby. Did you think I wouldn't know? It was plain to see at the cabin that you two are in love. You spent the weekend with her?" I forced myself to reply. "Yes," I said, fearing that it was all over. I felt like crying. "Good," Mom said simply. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Mom knew about me and Melissa, and she was... Happy for me? "So, you're not mad about us?" "Oh, Charles. Love is so precious. It doesn't matter where you find it, but when you do, you hold on with both hands and never let go." My tears came then, flowing hard as I released all my pent-up fears and anxiety. Mom held me as I cried on her shoulder. She gently rubbed my back like she used to do when I was a kid. When my crying subsided, she held my shoulders at arm's length. "Now, tell me about her." I did. In the conversation that followed, I was more honest and open about my feelings than I could remember being to anyone other than Melissa. I explained how we knew what each other was thinking or feeling, just by looking into each other's eyes. I told her how I wanted to improve myself, to be a better person for Melissa. And, looking back on it with a touch of horror, I did my best to explain the connection I felt with Melissa when we made love. Throughout it all, my mother was nothing but caring and understanding. After all the fear of this moment, it was surreal. It felt so good, so liberating to tell her how I felt about Melissa. When I was done, I asked Mom. "Does Dad know?" "Oh, I doubt he picked up on it." "Are you going to tell him?" Of all the people in the family, I was sure that Dad would be the least likely to accept. He had always been very traditional. Kind and gentle, but with a very strict moral compass. "Of course. He's my husband. The way you feel about Melissa, I feel about him." She hugged me again. "Don't be ashamed. Love her with all your heart, and everything else will work itself out." She kissed me on the cheek and told me that she loved me. I told her that I loved her too, and said goodnight. I went to my bedroom, shut the door, and called Melissa. "What's up?" She answered. "I didn't think I'd hear from you until tomorrow." Deciding to just be direct about it, I said. "My mother has officially given us her blessing." The line was silent as Melissa processed this. When she spoke, I could tell that she was crying. "How did she find out?" She asked. I recounted the whole conversation. "See? I told you your mom was the best." "She really is." "So, what now?" She asked, with a bit of anxiety. "She said that she had to tell everyone because it's better to have it out in the open than have to keep lying to the family. I agreed." After a short pause, Melissa said. "Me too." As it turns out, my family's reaction was both better than I had feared and worse than I had hoped. My parents had called a family meeting and all of my immediate family, and their spouses, showed up. There were those like my mom, and my brother Mark, who were supportive and genuinely happy for me. On the other end of things, there were people like my second older brother, Stephen, and his wife, who were disgusted and called me a pervert. Most were somewhere in the middle, either not understanding and being polite about it, or just ambivalent to the whole issue. Then there was my dad. He just sat there the whole time, with a frown on his face, and never spoke a word. I couldn't tell if he was ashamed, or angry, or what, and it tore me up inside. He had never in his life been shy about voicing his opinion. After my mom, he was who I needed acceptance from the most. I desperately wanted him to say something, anything, but he never did. His silence cut deeper than any insult or accusation ever could. At the beginning, and with prompting from my mom, I had stood before everyone, confessing Melissa's and my love for each other, and that I was moving out to live with her in Duluth. After the initial shock and spectrum of reactions, I sat down and answered questions. Now, not being able to bear my father's silence any longer, I stood again, interrupting several side conversations. I addressed the whole group, but my words were meant for my father more than anyone. "Melissa and I truly love each other. Nothing you do or say can change it. Accept it, accept us, or don't. I don't care." Dad didn't react, didn't even look me in the eyes. I rushed to my room and locked the door. I curled up on my bed and cried, harder than I could remember ever crying before. The stress of the family meeting and my dad's non-reaction had utterly destroyed me. I held a pillow over my head to muffle the sounds of my uncontrollable sobs, and to hide my face from the world. "What if they're right about you?" A part of my mind asked. "What if you're just a sicko. That's what they all think." "No! I really do love her!" Another part of my mind answered. "What kind of weirdo falls in love with his cousin? What kind of deviant fucks someone in his own family?" "No! Our love is pure and perfect!" "Yeah, perfect. The perfect fantasy of a clinically twisted pervert! You're just taking advantage of a poor broken girl." "No..." I moaned aloud, holding my head in my hands. Sometime after, someone knocked lightly on my bedroom door. I ignored it, lost as I was in terrible contradictory thoughts. The knock came again, and I heard my mom's voice. "Charles, honey. Can I come in?" I didn't respond, knowing that right then I couldn't bear to face anyone, even my mother. "Oh, my baby." She said through the door. "All I want is for you to be happy. Follow your heart, everything will work out. I love you." Her words quieted the thoughts whirling through my mind, and though my sobs faded, the tears continued to flow. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. I closed my eyes and imagined Melissa lying next to me. I thought about how if she were here, she would comfort me, and wipe the tears from my face. I could see her so clearly in my mind, see how her icy blue eyes would pour her inexhaustible love into me. Soon, my tears stopped flowing, and I regained a sense of peace. I felt awful for doubting myself, for doubting Melissa, if even for a moment. Our love is right. It is pure and perfect. She made me complete, as I made her complete. I drifted off to sleep, with a smile on my face, thinking about Melissa, and dreaming about the future. Chapter Eighteen. Charles copes with changes, but the biggest is yet to happen. The armrests of the padded chair where I was seated were a little too high to be comfortable, so I kept my hands folded in my lap. I gazed at the paintings of calm rural scenes hung on the walls of the spacious office. I wondered absently if they were real places or just the artist's impression of idyllic country life. I glanced at the woman in the matching chair positioned across from me. She was patiently waiting for me to continue my story, with an encouraging expression on her face. "I moved my things into Melissa's apartment a few days later and spent the night with her a couple of times when I had the day off. After the two weeks were up, I started work at the Duluth store and lived with her from then on. I think the only word to describe the years that followed is heavenly. I wouldn't have changed a single thing." "Tell me more about how your family reacted," said the woman, Dr. Clarke. "Did your father and brother ever come around?" "Dad? Yeah, he just needed a little time to process it. After that, he was as good with it as Mom was. The thing with him was, years before, before anyone knew what had been going on with Melissa's dad, he'd known that something was wrong. I'm not sure how, but he knew. After Melissa left home, he would call and check in on her. He paid to have her car fixed and even paid the deposit on her apartment. He always went out of his way to make her feel like she had people that cared. I think he loved her as if she were his own daughter, so the whole thing with the two of us was kind of a shock. When Melissa and I went to my parent's place for Thanksgiving, later that month; and he saw firsthand how happy she was, it wasn't an issue." "And your brother, Stephen?" Dr. Clarke prompted. "That same Thanksgiving, I ended up knocking him down with a punch to the face. He said that Melissa's family were all degenerates and that Melissa was just bringing that degeneracy to our family now. That was the last time I ever saw him." I forced my clenched fists to relax and laid my palms flat on my thighs. "Have you ever thought about reaching out to him? People can change a lot in twenty-four years." "No," I said firmly. "It was his choice to ostracize himself from our family, and I want nothing to do with someone capable of being so deliberately malicious. He knew that she was just beginning to heal the trauma that had been done to her; and had said what he did, specifically to hurt her. Someone capable of doing that will always be capable of doing it." "You might be surprised by how much people can change," She said, as she scribbled a few lines in her notepad. "Maybe," I said, brows furrowing. Those words had made their way into Melissa's nightmares. My fists clenched again, as I remembered all the times I was awoken in the middle of the night by her sobs. I remembered how helpless I felt, being able to do nothing but console her; and hold her until she fell back asleep. My knuckles were white, and my fists trembled slightly. I saw Dr. Clarke glance down at my hands, but she did not indicate what she was thinking. Therapists must make superb poker players. "Some things just can't be forgiven," I said quietly, forcing my hands to relax. "Again, you might be surprised. We can talk more about that next week." She set aside her notepad and glanced up at the clock on the wall behind me. "Now close your eyes, and concentrate on your breathing. Take a slow deep breath, imagining all your negative emotions as a tangible thing. Now breathe out slowly as all those emotions evaporate and exit your body like smoke. Again, deep inhale, and out. Good. Feel your mind become still as your breath carries away the pain. Once more, in, and out. Good." For some reason, this technique worked for me. If left alone, my thoughts naturally gravitated to the bad memories, and each one brought two more with it until I became overwhelmed. I would become mentally gridlocked to the point of not being able to function in everyday life. "When I say the word joy, what is the first thing that pops into your mind?" My eyes were still closed, and I smiled. "Melissa's face when she first saw me that October weekend reunion, at the cabin." "Good. Keep up your breathing exercise. All the pain is gone, only the joy remains. Describe the scene for me. What else do you see? What do you smell and hear?" A single tear rolled down my cheek. I'm not sure why I started to cry, whether it was joy in the image of her, so happy and full of promise for the future, or sorrow because that future is gone. I would never again see her smile. "Sunbeams cut down through the trees, lighting up smoke drifting from the fire pit. She passes through one, and her hair glows like golden fire. I smell the white pines, strong in the soft breeze, and the smell of burning oak. A loon call echoes up from the lake, and all around the cabin yard, there is the quiet burble of conversations and laughter." I wiped the tears from my face with a flannel shirt sleeve and looked away from Dr. Clarke. I still felt embarrassed to cry in front of another person. "That sounds lovely. Hold on to that moment, use it as a refuge." She glanced at the clock again and stood. I stood as well, taking a tissue from the box on the coffee table to dry my eyes. She walked me to her office door. "Thank you for sharing today, Charles. I think you are doing very well." As she opened the door, she asked. "Have you gone to the aromatherapy shop we talked about last week?" "No," I said dejectedly. "I was going to, but..." I had meant to go, but sometimes certain things were just impossible to make myself do. Going into an unfamiliar place and talking to a stranger was one of those things. Sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn't. This hadn't been a particularly good week, and the thought of talking to someone new, someone who would ask questions about why I was there, questions that would bring up painful memories, was simply unthinkable. Yesterday, I had made it all the way to my car and had the key in the ignition, but then I just sat there, unable to make myself go through with it. "That's ok." Said Dr. Clarke. I knew she knew why I didn't go, and I had gotten to the point where I felt safe sharing my feelings with her, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of shame. "Addy is very good at what she does, and she has helped many of my clients. She's a friend." I nodded and started moving through the doorway. Ending conversations always seemed so awkward. I never knew what to say. "Thank you for being so open today, Charles. See you again next week." She was looking at my eyes, and I met her gaze briefly before looking away. In recent years, I had become very uncomfortable making anything more than the briefest of eye contact with people, especially women, so I was usually at a huge disadvantage when it came to reading people's motivations and emotions. In that brief glimpse though, I caught the impression of empathy and a real desire to help. It felt really good to know that someone cared. I gave her a genuine smile and left. I left her office with the intention of going directly to the shop she had recommended, but by the time I was in my car, I just... couldn't. This is what my life had become. I could go from being on the verge of drowning in a sea of sorrow to feeling positive and optimistic in an instant, then back just as fast. But mostly, it was what I called 'the gray'. I am self-aware enough to understand how it began. Instead of dealing with certain traumatic events, my brain decided that it was easier and far less painful, just to push them aside. The problem is, that those things don't just go away. No matter how hard you push them down, they keep bubbling back up, and you end up pushing everything away in the effort. Then one day you realize that living in the gray was the only way to survive because every little bit of emotion, good or bad, could open the gates and let all the pain come rushing in. I had pushed everything and everyone aside for the sake of self-preservation, and it was killing me. I knew I needed help. I knew that the person I was, wasn't really me. The problem was, I had been in the gray so long, that I couldn't remember how it was before, not really. I knew that I had been happy once, that I had hopes and dreams. But that was all gone, lost in the gray. Chapter Nineteen. The next day turned out to be one of the good ones. I was able to get myself out of bed, dressed, and in the car. I decided that I would finally make it to this aromatherapy shop Dr. Clarke wanted me to go to. I turned the key in the ignition, and my geriatric Honda Civic purred to life. I quickly released the emergency brake and shifted into reverse. I backed out of my parking spot with a sigh. There, I did it. The hard part was over, and now that I had started the task, it would be easier to go through with it. Don't ask me why that makes sense, I wouldn't know how to even start explaining. I enjoyed my drive across town. It was a beautiful day in Duluth. Down near Lake Superior, it was a little breezy and a comfortable 65 degrees, perfect for driving with the windows down. Climbing the hill on 194, the farther I got away from the lake, the hotter it got. By the time I got to the shop, it was nearly 80 degrees, and I had begun to sweat. A typical July day in the Twin Ports. I've always said, that this was one of the things I loved most about living in Duluth. It could be hot as hell up on top of the hill, but if the wind was right, it was always cool near the lake. I shut the car off and set the E brake. I wiped a bit of sweat off my brow, and it occurred to me that I was wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday and that I hadn't showered. Hit with a sudden wave of shame and embarrassment about meeting someone new in this state, I almost just left to go back home. With an effort of willpower, I opened the car door and stepped out. Task begun. I walked in and was greeted by a smiling older lady that I assumed was Addy. "Hi, um, Dr. Clarke sent me." Addy's smile widened. "Oh, come in, come in. I'm Addy." "I'm Charles," I replied, meeting her eyes for the briefest moment. "Pleased to meet you, Charles. How is Rose doing these days?" Dr. Clarke's first name was Virginia. She had grown up in Virginia, Minnesota, and I think she was still annoyed by her unimaginative parents, because she liked to use her middle name, Rose. I almost exclusively used 'Dr. Clarke' when speaking with or about her. "I've been seeing her for a couple of months now. She's nice." I never seemed to know how to answer questions like that. I grimaced inwardly at my awkwardness. "She's a sweetheart, and good at her job. I saw her for years." She led me over to a glass counter filled with hundreds of small labeled bottles. "So, are we looking for something to help you relax?" "Something to help me remember." I paused briefly, trying to find the right words. "Well, remembering isn't the issue." I felt a rush of awkwardness and a little bit of embarrassment in talking about something so personal with a stranger. My cheeks flushed, and I looked at the bottles in the case to ensure I didn't accidentally make eye contact. "I want to be able to focus on just the one thing." "Tell me about it." I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. "There's smoke from the campfire, mostly oak. Maybe a tiny bit of something acrid, like someone had thrown a plastic plate in the fire." As I spoke, I could hear Addy selecting a few bottles from a rack within the display case. "Pine trees. Even with the smoke, the pines smell strong." "Spruce?" Addy asked politely. "No, White Pine. The needles and sap are everywhere." "Anything else?" I took another deep breath but didn't reply. "Sometimes there's things around us that have a scent, but we're either too used to it, or its faint enough that we don't remember without smelling it. What else was there? Is this a campground?" Addy asked in what I recognized as being in a deliberately unobtrusive way. "It's a cabin," I replied, searching the mental image for things that may have a scent. "It's an old log cabin, surrounded by white pines. There's a log pile. My brother had been using the chainsaw earlier. My truck is parked in the driveway, it smells like gas because the tank leaks a little bit. Someone had mowed the little patch of grass in front of the cabin." "Is there anyone there, wearing perfume or aftershave?" I nodded my head in the affirmative. Addy gave me time to answer. "She..." I struggled to find words to describe Melissa's scent. How do you describe such a thing to someone? How do you describe a sunset to a blind person, or describe to a deaf person the emotions evoked by the Moonlight Sonata? She smelled like love, and I still smell her on the clothes I keep in her dresser. "You know how strawberry plants don't smell like strawberry? Not like the fake strawberry candy scent?" Of course, she did, but I went on. "A strawberry blossom. Delicate, faint, with just the promise of sweetness." "She was someone special," Addy said, in more of a statement than a question. "I ended up marrying her. She;" A tear rolled down my cheek. "Nine years ago;" I just couldn't force the words out of my mouth. I could tell Addy the exact date and time. I could tell her that we had just gone to see The Martian in the movie theater and that the night was clear and cool after the late August thunderstorm earlier that afternoon. I could tell her what song was playing on the radio. I could tell her the look on Melissa's face when the headlights crossed through the median in front of us. What I couldn't say, was physically unable to, was that nine years ago, Melissa died. "It's okay, dear," Addy said. She had a grandmotherly voice, full of kindness and understanding. For the briefest of moments, the power of that gentle voice made me believe that yes, everything would be okay. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll have something for you to try." I nodded and wandered away from the counter, absently browsing the candles and incense as I tried to compose myself. As I looked through the shop it occurred to me how posh the place seemed. High-dollar products are meant to be sold to people who have the luxury of ignoring price tags. I did not have that luxury. I felt anxiety and a general shame of the complete fuck up I had become. If this costs more than about forty dollars, I wouldn't be able to afford groceries this week. "Charles, it's ready," Addy called from the other side of the store. I walked over and closed my eyes as she extended a small glass bottle filled with clear liquid. I breathed deeply and conjured the scene in my mind. The scent of Addy's mixture hit me like a lightning bolt. It was like reading a book in the dark, and then someone turned on the lights. Everything came into sharp focus like I was there. The smoke, the pines, and, My breath caught in my throat. Buried deep within the mix there was something light, something so tenuous you hardly knew it was there. It was Melissa. In my mind, she threw herself into my arms, and I could smell her. I could smell her. "How?" I asked, looking her in the eyes for the first time since my initial glance. Addy smiled warmly, and I could see genuine care in her face, not just the politeness of a shop owner to a customer. "If she had been wearing perfume, it would have been harder. We remember scents much better than we think we do. Sometimes all we need is a little hint, and it's brought right to the front." Dr. Clarke was right, Addy was good. "Your idea about the strawberry flowers was good. They're very faint and don't smell like much at all, definitely not strawberries. But when you know that you have strawberry flowers, and you smell them, your brain brings up the memory of strawberries. Scents are all connected in our minds, and are rooted deep down at the very foundation of memory." Addy put a rubber stopper in the bottle and carefully placed the bottle in a velvet pouch with her shop's logo on it. She held it out for me to take. A tear dripped off my jaw, and I quickly wiped my face on a sleeve. "How much?" I started to ask, again acutely aware of my wrinkled clothes, my general lack of personal hygiene, and the depressingly small balance of my bank account. Addy cut me off with a raised hand. "Rose is a friend of mine, and any friend of hers is also a friend of mine." She pushed the velvet bag into my hands. "No, I can't;" Addy stopped me again. "Most of my clients just want something that smells nice in their bathroom, or to cover the smell of weed. I'm perfectly happy to take their money." She placed her hands on mine, still clutching the velvet bag. "It's very rare that I get to help someone. Take it as a gift, with my thanks." I was speechless, and fresh tears rolled down my face. I couldn't remember the last time someone was so altruistically kind to me. "Thank you." Was all I could say. To be continued in part 6. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts, for Literotica.

They say the 'devil is in the details', and while famed author C.S. Lewis' book "Screwtape Letters" illustrates that proverbial phrase, today's version is all about the digital; that modern-day technology is seemingly paving the road towards the demonic. It's not that social media or the digital world is morally aberrant at their core, but it's the fast-paced entrance down a rabbit hole of TikTok videos, influencers, and political punditry, giving us quicker access to all that is wrong with us. Actor Max McLean is an expert on C.S. Lewis after studying and portraying him on stage and screen. McLean's newest venture is producing the film version of The Screwtape Letters. Even though the book was written in 1942, its premise still applies today and perhaps was meant for such a time as this. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Reaction pouring in about possible peace deal in Mideast... Zohran Mamdani will be live on 1010 WINS social medica pages this morning... Some parents are not pleased with Mamdani's plans to end the Gifted and Talented school programs... full 501 Thu, 09 Oct 2025 09:37:48 +0000 CORhEVBuygPd6gBFYmyUG4IzVM6sO1iq news 1010 WINS ALL LOCAL news Reaction pouring in about possible peace deal in Mideast... Zohran Mamdani will be live on 1010 WINS social medica pages this morning... Some parents are not pleased with Mamdani's plans to end the Gifted and Talented school programs... The podcast is hyper-focused on local news, issues and events in the New York City area. This podcast's purpose is to give New Yorkers New York news about their neighborhoods and shine a light on the issues happening in their backyard. 2024 © 2021 Audacy, Inc.

Listeners call in to voice their grievances about the state of the Browns with Andy Baskin and Jeff Phelps.

✨ Welcome to Silent Podcasts' Amazing Race Coverage! ✨ Join Sabrina, Isaiah, and Janelle each week as we recap every episode of The Amazing Race!

The Jaguars stunned the NFL and beat Kansas City. The Chiefs are 0-3 in one-score games this season. The Steelers have a negative point differential. Joe thinks the Steelers will beat the Bills in Pittsburgh. The NFL is wild open. Joe's eyes vs. PFF. Joe likes PFF, but Aaron Rodgers has a 50.4 overall grade and doesn't make sense.

Hour 1 with Joe Starkey: Joe thinks the Steelers will beat the Bills in Pittsburgh. The NFL is wild open. Joe's eyes vs. PFF. Joe likes PFF, but Aaron Rodgers has a 50.4 overall grade and doesn't make sense. Joe has been overwhelmed with love and support from listeners and sports figures reaching out to wish him condolences for losing both his parents. Former Pirates manager Derek Shelton texted Joe.

Spurs Chat: Discussing all Things Tottenham Hotspur: Hosted by Chris Cowlin: The Daily Tottenham/Spurs Podcast Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

✨ Welcome to Silent Podcasts' Amazing Race Coverage! ✨ Join Sabrina, Isaiah, and Janelle each week as we recap every episode of The Amazing Race!

Poni praises Tomlin and Arthur Smith along with the players for executing. The Bills are the only team in the AFC with a better record than the Steelers. Poni says that this means Tomlin is doing a good coaching job. Mullsy disagrees with this take.

Season 4 Episode 8: You Only Live Twice (1967) is all about Bond, James Bond, in honor of Bond Day on October 5th. Fun fact, this podcast was going to originally be a deep dive into the Bond universe, where we watched and discussed all of the movies and related content. You read that right, all of it. Thankfully, Puji changed his mind as he didn't want to completely torture Marbles and Rachel. We also have Erick joining us again as a special guest! you might be asking, why Erick?? Well just like Bond, he's got a special set of skills that make him perfect for the role. He just takes down bad movies instead of bad guys.You Only Live Twice (1967) is an action spy film staring Sean Connery as James Bond. During the Cold War, American and Russian spacecrafts go missing, leaving each superpower believing the other is to blame. As the world teeters on the brink of nuclear war, British intelligence learns that one of the crafts has landed in the Sea of Japan. After faking his own death, secret agent James Bond is sent to investigate. In Japan, he's aided by Tiger Tanaka and the beautiful Aki, who help him uncover a sinister global conspiracy."The bonds Name. James Name" Pleased to... what? "Bond Name's the james" Are you alright? "Barnes Nond's having a stronk, call a Bondulance"Music Credits:Downtown Walk by | e s c p | ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://escp-music.bandcamp.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Music promoted by ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.free-stock-music.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Creative Commons / Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0)⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

[2 Cor 12:1-10] Paul was driven to boasting by necessity, in order to respond to the super apostles who are false teachers leading the beloved Corinthians astray from the truth, but he only boasts in his weakness.

Message by Pastor Mat - Sept 27, 2025 Apologetics, Debate, Bible Discussions, Evangelism, and much more Discerning the fruits of the Spirit vs the fruits of self - Mark 7:5-23 "The mystic fruit bowl" - https://youtu.be/kw7QiLQMQ_M?si=356Fx_r9ohUeTLwjThe Deity of Jesus Christ and the Gospel of Salvation - https://www.youtube.com/live/gquqBQIL_0U?si=7zmPLi1X0CcW-v7f(Discussing discipleship) Bible study on Luke 9:60-62 "Let the dead bury the dead" - https://www.youtube.com/live/BkWtkOrEs-Q?si=y-zyqNGfWi3kzVu2To know more on how to be saved, what are the requirements and such, please see our playlist on the Gospel and Eternal Security (assurance of salvation) - https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3pJdCnnwrEeCQOCTTmDW1GjUYxpd44DG&si=_rT-lThl0klHt5Cd Our Ministries Website - https://christiancoffeetime.ca/ 1John 5:20) "And we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know him that is true, and we are in him that is true, even in his Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life." - Intro Music: A Flourish by Niya is licensed under a Creative Commons License.https://creativecommons.org/licenses/...Support by RFM - NCM: https://bit.ly/2xGHypM -

Hannah McNair Seems NONE Too Pleased with the Texans 0-3 Start in 2025.. UH OH!! full 776 Fri, 26 Sep 2025 22:17:13 +0000 fUqb0gkQyKRPCjMSqMWweP8HZwG9Wh0W nfl,afc,houston texans,afc south,nfl news,texans,nfl week 4,texans news,hannah mcnair,sports The Drive with Stoerner and Hughley nfl,afc,houston texans,afc south,nfl news,texans,nfl week 4,texans news,hannah mcnair,sports Hannah McNair Seems NONE Too Pleased with the Texans 0-3 Start in 2025.. UH OH!! 2-6PM M-F © 2025 Audacy, Inc. Sports False https://play

DJ & PK deabted if what we have seen from BYU quarterback Bear Bachmeier is legitimate and what he still needs to show as he moves forward.

Aaron Rodgers said that he did not play well. Poni says that the Steelers should be able to rely on the defense to win them games based on how much money they have invested into it. The guys also agree that the offensive line did not play poorly yesterday.

Pleased to bring on Tanya Delahoz, one of our founding agents of our Breckenridge, Colorado market in Summit County.  Hailing from New Jersey, Tanya grew up as a competitive ski racer throughout childhood.  What should have been a quick stop to Breck during those years ended up being a 25+year tenure as a permanent resident, where she now resides with her husband and two children.   For those of you who are aware of Breckenridge, the resort town has just been named The Most Charming Small Town Downtowns by HGTV, making it the only Colorado town included in the list of 40 most charming small town downtowns in the US.  The city is right off Highway 70, which also connects to prominent resorts like Beaver Creek, Vail, Copper, Arapahoe Basin, & loveland ski resorts.  Just about an hour away from Denver, Colorado, the area is a major attraction for locals & the global ski & outdoor enthusiasts.   Founded in 1859 during the Colorado Gold Rush, Breckenridge was a mining town before becoming a ski destination. The resort's Peak 9 was named after a prospector, and remnants of mining history, like old equipment, can still be seen around town. Please follow Tanya at the links below!  Instagram Website Compass

Cora says if you told him opening day they'd be fighting for a playoff spot he'd be pleased

Nebraska Football pleased Nick rather than impressed him on Saturday? Why? - September 9th, 9:25amAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Your Daily Prayer

Wiggy says there is a clear difference between Mayo and Vrabel and their coaching styles

If God loves us enough to make our joy full, he must not only give us himself; he must also win from us the praise of our hearts.

On Monday's Football Daily, David Wilson brings you all fallout from the opening Sunday of the English Premier League, plus reaction to St. Patricks Athletic's huge cup win over Shelbourne.Ruben Amorim's short and fiery press conference.Keith Andrews baptism of fire.Stephen Kenny pleased with his side's durability to keep going.Joey O'Brien rages against the machine.And Neymar is forced to tears as Santos get pummelled.Become a member and subscribe at offtheball.com/join

Jim Durkin and Matt Rinella celebrate recent cuts to the Recreational Boating and Fishing Foundation, the nonprofit that administers that Take Me Fishing program.  They also take issue with Outdoor Life coverage of this development.  

Fear Not, Little Flock: God Is Pleased to Give You a Kingdom Today's Homily reflects on St. Louis Marie de Montfort's unwavering conviction that God . . . . . . had called him to found a congregation to renew the Church, despite repeated failures during his lifetime. His steadfast faith led him to pray ardently, write a rule of life, and even compose a letter to members of a congregation that did not yet exist . . . urging them, as Jesus did, to “fear not, little flock.” God is Pleased to Give His People a Kingdom The central message is that God is pleased to give His people a kingdom, not reluctantly but joyfully, and that this identity as heirs to the kingdom outweighs all weakness, poverty, or insignificance. The Homily challenges us to live in hopeful expectation of God's promises, preparing themselves for the kingdom by living faithfully, using the great trust God has placed in them. Jesus' call to be vigilant is a reminder that those entrusted with much are accountable for much. The Eucharist is presented as the supreme moment when Christ entrusts Himself to His people, sending them forth with the true greatness of His presence to live according to the gift they have received. Hear more within this Meditation Media. Listen to: Fear Not, Little Flock: God Is Pleased to Give You a Kingdom --------------------------------------------------------------- Quote from the Homily Note the expression, it has pleased God, the Father, to give you a kingdom. What a remarkable statement that is, not simply that God has promised something. But that he's delighted to make that promise that in making this promise to you, there is something that pleases his heart. It is not that God begrudgingly gives you something. It is not that God reluctantly agrees to help you. God is pleased. Pleased to give you a kingdom. Note the weight of that statement. God is pleased. It delights God to call you into His kingdom and to open the possibility that the very wealth of heavenly goodness is yours. And he does it, not reluctantly, but joyfully. It pleases him to do this for you. And in quoting the Lord, Father de Montford spoke to his community that did not yet exist. --------------------------------------------------------------- St. Louis de Montfort The statue of Montfort currently resides in the Montfort Spiritual Center Chapel. The video at the top of the post on the QoAH website is a small collection of paintings and statues of St. Louis de Montfort from around the world. --------------------------------------------------------------- Gospel: Luke 12: 32-48 First Reading: Wisdom 18: 6-9 Second Reading: Hebrews 11: 1-2, 8-19

Training camp is in full sing and there's some fisticuffs and character building!

Jamie James is a songwriter and musician who has been making music his whole life, and this Spring, he released his debut solo album, Straight Up, recorded with some longtime bandmates. James has always been into the blues and blues rock, and he's known for his work with Dennis Quaid & The Sharks, longtime collaborations with the late Harry Dean Stanton, and as the frontman of the '80s rockabilly trio The Kingbees. Rejoined with friends Tom Walsh (drums), Ken Stange (organ), and Tom Mancillas (bass), James took a group of songs that he wrote during the pandemic while recovering from open heart surgery to Kitten Robot Studio in Los Angeles. They recorded the ten songs on Straight Up live in the studio in one day only, capturing their years of experience playing together for the album. As an artist now in his 70s, James has a lifetime of perspective to bring not only to his songwriting, but to how he makes and records music, and the big lessons seem to be: Stay creative, stick to what you love, and make music with the people who bring you energy to do more. I spoke to Jamie James about his approach to Straight Up and his love for the blues. Pleased check out his latest release on Spotify https://open.spotify.com/artist/6HyO3Bh4rQJUI9bewsdbtr?si=rR_GScFNS06I_BT5BwSL8w About Music Matters with Darrell Craig Harris The Music Matters Podcast is hosted by Darrell Craig Harris, a globally published music journalist, professional musician, and Getty Images photographer. Music Matters is now available on Spotify, iTunes, Podbean, and more. Each week, Darrell interviews renowned artists, musicians, music journalists, and insiders from the music industry. Visit us at: www.MusicMattersPodcast.com Follow us on Twitter: www.Twitter.com/musicmattersdh For inquiries, contact: musicmatterspodcastshow@gmail.com Support our mission via PayPal: www.paypal.me/payDarrell               

Pleased to bring on Cheryl Foote, our founding agent from our Steamboat, Colorado market, on the Real Takk Pod.  Born & raised in Minnesota, Cheryl attended Regis College in Denver, which brought her to Colorado.   Cheryl moved to Steamboat Springs in 1996, and fast forward almost 30 years, Cheryl & her family call Steamboat their home.   Cheryl has a wealth of knowledge in the steamboat market with hundreds of transactions completed from townhomes, single-family homes, land, condos, and high-end fractional ownership.  For those of you who are aware of Steamboat Springs, the town got its name in the early 1800s from French trappers who heard a chugging sound, like a steamboat's engine, coming from a natural mineral spring. This “Steamboat Spring” stopped chugging after railroad construction in 1908, but the name stuck, and the town still boasts over 150 natural hot springs. The term “Champagne Powder” was coined in Steamboat to describe its light, fluffy snow, which has just 6% water content due to cold temperatures and low humidity. This trademarked snow type, popularized in the 1950s, makes Steamboat a top destination for skiers seeking smooth, powdery runs. Please follow Cheryl @Cheryl_foote on IG & I will plug her website below:  Compass Instagram Personal Website

Rapture Kit Radio Show Package The Great Last Days Apostasy (Dr. Hixson's new book) NBW Ministries website Newsletter Signup NBW Ministries store Spirit of the False Prophet Audiobook YouTube Rumble Podbean Spirit of the False Prophet Spirit of the Antichrist Volume One Spirit of the Antichrist Volume Two Faith, Bible Study, Christian Living, Application, Not By Works

Series: N/AService: Sunday AM WorshipType: SermonSpeaker: James VaughnTo download this video, go directly to the video page on Vimeo by clicking the in-video title above.Look for the download button below the video there.If you feel this was beneficial to you, please like and share this video.

Series: N/AService: Sunday AM WorshipType: SermonSpeaker: James VaughnTo download this video, go directly to the video page on Vimeo by clicking the in-video title above.Look for the download button below the video there.If you feel this was beneficial to you, please like and share this video.

Rangers stay hot and beat the A's last night. Micah Parsons responds to Jerry Jones' comments about his contract. Ozzy Osbourne passes away at 76.

SHOW SCHEDULE 7-15-2025 GOOD EVENING: The show begins in the markets, pleased that inflation continues moderating... 1917 CBS EYE ON THE WORLD WITH JOHN BATCHELOR FIRST HOUR 9:00-9:15 #MARKETS: SOCIALISM AND ITS DISCONTENTS - INFLATION ACCEPTABLE. Liz Peek, The Hill, Fox News and Fox Business. 9:15-9:30 #MARKETS: SOCIALISM AND ITS DISCONTENTS - INFLATION ACCEPTABLE. Liz Peek, The Hill, Fox News and Fox Business, continued. 9:30-9:45 SYRIA: ANARCHY. Jonathan Schanzer. 9:45-10:00 GAZA: QATAR IS THE PROBLEM. Jonathan Schanzer. SECOND HOUR 10:00-10:15 BERLIN: BORIS PISTORIUS DRIVES THE BUS. Judy Dempsey, Senior Scholar, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace in Berlin. 10:15-10:30 EU: INVESTING IN EASTERN EUROPE. Judy Dempsey, Senior Scholar, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace in Berlin. 10:30-10:45 #LONDONCALLING: HONG KONG AND THE STABLE CURRENCY SINCE 1983. @JOSEPHSTERNBERG @WSJOPINION. 10:45-11:00 RUSSIA: THE FADING CSTO. Ivana Stradner, FDD. THIRD HOUR 11:00-11:15 AUSTRALIA AND TAIWAN. Gregory Copley, Defense & Foreign Affairs. 11:15-11:30KREMLIN AND TRUMP'S ULTIMATUM. Gregory Copley, Defense & Foreign Affairs. 11:30-11:45 ARMENIA AND THE RISE OF AZERBAIJAN. Gregory Copley, Defense & Foreign Affairs. 11:45-12:00 KING CHARLES REPORT: SWAN UPPING. Gregory Copley, Defense & Foreign Affairs. FOURTH HOUR 12:00-12:15 ROK: ACCOMMODATING THE KIMS AGAIN. David Maxwell. 12:15-12:30 ROK: ACCOMMODATING THE KIMS AGAIN. David Maxwell, continued. 12:30-12:45 SOMALIA: AL SHABAAB ADVANCES. Caleb Weiss, Bill Roggio. 12:45-1:00 AM SOMALILAND: READY TO SECEDE. Caleb Weiss, Bill Roggio.

Pleased to have back on, the absolute GOAT of our channel, Jessica Northrop of Compass Denver.  This is her third time back on the channel since we've launched, so it's great to catch up with her in 2025!   As the founding team of our Denver, Colorado office, Jessica has closed & represented over half a dozen personal friends of mine in the Denver Metro Market.  She's been in the business since she was 17 years old, has raised her family there, eats & sleeps in what I consider one of the best cities in America.  Jessica is ranked the #1 agent in various categories in the Denver market.  She is the go-to pro for all things Denver market.   Please follow her on IG at @jessica_northrop Website Linkedin Facebook