Podcasts about Satisfied

Send us a textPsalm 107:9For he satisfies the longing soul,and the hungry soul he fills with good things.Support the show

** PLEASE SUBSCRIBE ** Welcome to On THE ONE . . . and Done! This is the show that celebrates the greatest funk songs ever created. Please be sure to like, comment and share the show, and set your alert notifications so as to never miss a video. Thank you very much for your interest and support!   Featured in OTOAD Episode 15: “Do It (Till You're Satisfied) 1974) by B.T. Express. Your tour guide for this affair is Scott “DR GX” Goldfine – lifelong funkateer, disc jockey, music journalist, author of Everything Is on THE ONE: The First Guide of Funk, and producer of TRUTH IN RHYTHM and Where'd You Get Your Funk From? Special thanks to P T F I for providing the theme music. Please drop down in the comments what other songs you would like featured on this program. Support the artists and musicians featured in this episode by purchasing their recordings and attending their performances (if applicable). https://www.amazon.com/b?_encoding=UTF8&tag=funknstuff-20&linkCode=ur2&linkId=7c3da202bf596f575ff2c2313ee3e209&camp=1789&creative=9325&node=163856011 TRUTH IN RHYTHM Show: https://funknstuff.net/watch-truth-in-rhythm-music-interview-show/tir-episodes-directory/ Where'd You Get Your Funk From?: https://funknstuff.net/wygyff-overview/ Jam Fans Forum: https://funknstuff.net/jff-overview/ Website: Funknstuff.net Email: ScottG@funknstuff.net Merch: https://www.teepublic.com/stores/funknstuff Everything Is on the One: The First Guide of Funk Book:  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1541256603/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1541256603&linkCode=as2&tag=funknstuff-20&linkId=b6c7558ddc7f8fc9fe440c5d9f3c400 Patreon:  https://www.patreon.com/c/TRUTHINRHYTHM  Donations: Help Support FUNKNSTUFF! Paypal: funknstuff.net@gmail.com Venmo: @Scott-Goldfine This is a review, analysis and appreciation video used to educate, evaluate, lend insights and stimulate comment on the songs and artists.  COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use. No copyright infringement intended. ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS. LEGAL NOTICE: All original video and audio content protected by copyright. Any use of this material is strictly prohibited without expressed consent from original content producer and owner Scott Goldfine, dba FUNKNSTUFF. For inquiries, email info@funknstuff.net. TRUTH IN RHYTHM is a registered U.S. Trademark (Serial #88540281).

We're celebrating our 10th anniversary all year by digging in the vaults to re-present classic episodes with fresh commentary. Today, we're revisiting our 2021 conversation with Richard Marx. ABOUT RICHARD MARX:Grammy-winning performer Richard Marx has sold more than 30 million albums as an artist, but if you only know him from late 1980s ballads such as “Hold on to the Nights” and “Right Here Waiting,” you only know part of the story. A prolific songwriter, Marx has landed fourteen songs at the top of various Billboard charts, and has written a #1 single in each of the last four decades. His genre-crossing songwriting success includes “What About Me” and “Crazy,” which Kenny Rogers carried to the top of the Adult Contemporary and Country charts, respectively; “Edge of a Broken Heart,” a hit for the female metal band Vixen; “This I Promise You,” a Top 5 pop single for NSYNC that stayed at #1 on the Adult Contemporary Chart for 13 weeks; Josh Groban's debut single “To Where You Are,” which also reached #1; and “Dance With My Father,” which Richard wrote with the song's performer, Luther Vandross, and which earned the pair the prestigious Grammy Song of the Year award in 2004. Additionally, Richard has scored three major hits with Keith Urban: the Top 5 “Everybody,” and the #1 singles “Better Life” and “Long Hot Summer.”  Despite all his songwriting success, however, Marx is best known as a singer and performer who today jokes about his 80s hairstyle and of-the-era drum sounds. But the songs are undeniable, all of which Marx wrote and produced himself. His debut self-titled album yielded four Top 5 singles: “Don't Mean Nothing,” “Should've Known Better,” “Endless Summer Nights,” and “Hold on to the Nights.” His follow-up, 1989's Repeat Offender, was even more successful, going quadruple-platinum and earning two number one Billboard pop singles, “Satisfied” and “Right Here Waiting,” in addition to the Top 5 “Angelina.” More hits followed, including “Keep Coming Back,” “Hazard,” “Take This Heart,” “Now and Forever,” and “Until I Find You Again.” In addition, Richard's songs have been integral to a number of successful film soundtracks. He earned a Grammy nomination for his contributions to St. Elmo's Fire; scored a Top 10 pop hit with “Surrender to Me,” which Ann Wilson of Heart and Robin Zander of Cheap Trick recorded for the movie Tequila Sunrise, and wrote “At the Beginning,” a hit duet for the film Anastasia that Richard performed with Donna Lewis. Over the course of his career, Richard's songs have been recorded by Barbra Streisand, The Tubes, Sarah Brightman, Monica, Natalie Cole, Michael Bolton, Paulina Rubio, Emerson Drive, Chicago, Billy Ray Cyrus, Vince Gill, Kenny Loggins, LeAnn Rimes, Celine Dion, Julio Iglesias, Berry Manilow, Daughtry, Vertical Horizon, Lifehouse, Dave Koz, Jennifer Nettles, Ringo Starr, and many others. His memoir, Stories to Tell, is available from Simon & Shuster.   Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

At today's Interactive Midweek Service, Pastor Femi Paul taught on “Satisfied with the Goodness of God”, unveiling the abundant blessing reserved for those who draw near and choose to dwell in God's presence. From Psalm 65:4–5, PFP reminded us that the person God chooses and brings close is blessed because God satisfies His own with the BEST. According to the Olive Tree Strong's Dictionary, “goodness” (ṭûḇ) is in the superlative: it means the best, good things, prosperity, and joy. God's house is not ordinary; it is the place where His goodness overflows. PFP then highlighted that those who dwell in God's house (Psalm 23:6) experience consistent mercy, protection, and satisfaction. He then posed a question: “Are you dwelling or merely visiting?” Many dwell in the world and only “visit” God occasionally, yet dwelling requires commitment, consistency, and prioritising God above all else. As Psalm 122:1 declares, there is joy in going to God's house, and Psalm 36:7–8 reveals that those who take refuge in Him are “abundantly satisfied” and drink from the river of His pleasures. The message was clear: when you dwell, God satisfies you with the fullness of His house, His goodness, joy, prosperity, and every blessing that makes life whole. Prayer: Lord, I choose to dwell in Your presence. Satisfy me with the goodness of Your house. Let Your mercy, joy, and prosperity flow into every area of my life as I remain rooted in You. Amen.

Renée Elise Goldsberry is a multi-hyphenate actress and singer, best known for originating the role of Angelica Schuyler in the groundbreaking Broadway musical HAMILTON, for which she won Tony® and Grammy® Awards and received an Emmy® nomination for the Disney+ filmed version. She is also known for her work in RENT, THE COLOR PURPLE, THE LION KING, ALL IN: COMEDY ABOUT LOVE, GIRLS-5EVA, and THE GOOD WIFE, and will return to Broadway in THE BALUSTERS in Spring 2026. In this episode, Renée shares memories of sharing the stage with Stephanie in their early careers and exploring life, faith, family changes, and motherhood in her acclaimed documentary, Satisfied, which is now available digitally. Watch Satisfied Documentary Who I Really Am album Tickets to Stephanie J. Block Holiday Concerts  Tickets to Schmigadoon on Broadway

Do you ever feel like you're going through life looking for things to fill you, success, comfort, relationships, and they feel good for a while, but somehow you still end up unsatisfied? Sometimes we do the same thing with faith. We sample a little grace when we're tired, a little forgiveness when we mess up, and a little encouragement when life gets hard, but we never fully experience the whole life Jesus offers.We will continue in the book of John with a message from John 6:41–59, “The Satisfied Life,” as we unpack what it truly means to find lasting fulfillment in Christ.

Carl and Zinno come back with more football and discuss whether or not Falcons' leadership needs to come in and address the team's struggles by making some sort of change and not settle for the results they are seeing week after week the past four weeks. As the conversation continued, they shared thoughts on whether or not, Michael Penix Jr. is getting the proper help he needs in order to succeed in this offense.

The Time Riders: Part 2 When you've got a time machine, practice makes perfect. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Always The Student. Mark was lying on his back, panting while Becky squirmed and writhed on top of him, moaning in pleasure. His hands were on her opulent tits, kneading them just how she loved it. The lovers were covered in sweat as she ground her cunt down onto his cock, taking him deep inside. He matched her sensual rhythm, pushing up while she pressed down, squeezing his shaft with each thrust he made. "Yes, Mark;” she gasped, her hands resting on his chest while she writhed on him shamelessly. It didn't matter that she was his former high school Physics teacher, or even that she still was, in a sense, she was committed to fucking him because she'd promised herself she'd enjoy this, and Becky did her damdest to always follow her own advice. "Yes, baby, right there;” Becky now began gyrating her hips in a circle on top of him, interrupting the rhythm that would certainly had led to both of them cumming and she wanted to prolong this session. She felt Mark regain control of himself, adapting to the new pace, although he continued to molest her tits, pinching and tugging on her nipples. Her flawless skin glistened with her exertions, the wonderful scent of a woman making love permeating the air. "Hmm, good boy," she purred, smiling down at him. "You're learning." "I've got the best teacher I could ask for." Mark replied, grinning back. "Forget all the time travel stuff you're helping me figure out, you're amazing in bed, Becky. I've never cum so hard before, not like when I'm with you." "You're so sweet, darling," she cooed, reveling in the feel of his throbbing cock deep inside her. Ever since that night he'd snuck into her home and failed so miserably at trying to seduce her so she would change his Physics grade, they'd become ardent lovers, with her being nearly as addicted to their sex as he was. "You make me cum really hard too, just so you know. And the gift you brought me back from London was so thoughtful. How would you like to fuck me next?" Mark nodded, pondering her question. He had indeed brought her back a gift, from London in the 1880's. He'd come back with a lovely dress from the period and a bottle of Italian wine. Even though she had never accompanied him on a temporal trip (except that very first one, to prove he had a time machine at all), she seemed to have an innate understanding of how to time travel without screwing things up, which was very easy. He took hold of her hips and slowly rolled her onto her stomach. She purred as she pushed her legs together and then knelt over her thighs. She put her chin on her arms and sighed as he pulled her ass cheeks apart and pushed his cock down into her cunt. Her clamped legs made her feel tighter than ever and he groaned in pleasure as he bottomed out. Keeping himself up on his hands, his back arched so that she was pinned beneath him, he began to piston his hips, fucking his teacher. "Oh, Mark;” she murmured. "It's so good this way. Your cock feels so wonderful inside me." "Uh, God;” he breathed, shuddering as she squeezed her cheeks together, clamping her cunt around him as he thrust. "I never wanna stop fucking you." "I don't want you to," she gasped as he hit her sweet spot. "And because you; oh; have your time machine; we can find a way; to fuck forever;” She squirmed and writhed beneath him while he pushed up and down on her, both of them getting slick with sweat. They groaned and panted together. He leaned down and bit her shoulder Becky keened in pleasure. Trembling, she arched her hips, pushing up against him. She could feel his cock twitching and swelling inside her. "Gonna cum;” he breathed, pushing down and straining. "Uh! Yes, cum in me, Mark!" she wailed. She pressed her face into a pillow as she screamed, feeling her student's cum spurting inside and filling her spasming cunt. Mark shook and groaned loudly, so glad they were in her house and could be as loud as they needed to be. Her slammed his hips down onto her, tingling pleasure blossoming through him. Mark collapsed on top of her, both of them limp and breathing heavily. He reached under Becky and put his hands on her tits, squeezing gently. She hummed and undulated her soft cheeks beneath him, milking his cock for all of his cum, her wet cunt wanting every last drop. They said nothing for several minutes, just lying there in bliss. Becky finally slowly turned over, Mark's cock slipping out of her and they wrapped their arms around each other, kissing deeply. He pushed his still-hard cock back in and moved back and forth gently inside her and she squeezed him in rhythm. Tongues tangled and they hummed contentedly into one another's mouths. "God, I want to find a way to have multiples of you fucking me all at once," she purred, smiling into his eyes and caressing his cheek. "One in my cunt, one in my ass, another in my mouth; hmm, that sounds heavenly." "Yeah, but won't I, like, blow up spontaneously, or collapse the universe if I encounter myself?" he asked somewhat warily. He liked the idea of fucking all Becky's holes, but not if it made everything go boom. She giggled and bopped his nose. "Silly. Why are you asking me? You're the one with access to this time-travel police force. What did you say they were called? TEA?" "Yeah, they said they're called the Temporal Enforcement Agency." Mark confirmed. "I called them Teabaggers and they didn't think that was funny." "Oh, be nice to them, darling," she chided gently. "After all, they're protecting the timeline for crazy kids like you." "Yeah, I guess," he admitted, knowing she was infinitely more sensible than him about these things. She was already so much smarter at this temporal stuff than he was. The only reason his little trip to 1800's London went well was because she'd prepped him and made him think it through. "Getting myself killed is apparently pretty easy." "Boo, and then we couldn't fuck anymore," she said, sounding sad. "And even if you stopped time-travelling tomorrow, I'd still want to fuck you. You've unleashed a demon in me." "I know it," he laughed. "I have to rest a few days after our marathon fuck sessions, only to come back in your next day to keep up with your libido. Not that I'm complaining, mind." She giggled. "Well I do love to fuck," she agreed. "Maybe one day, I'll go with you. I'd love to fuck in a harem bath house or a Parisian brothel." Mark rolled off her and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He could almost see the steam rising off them. As tricky as time travel was, he never would have ended up in bed with his Physics teacher if it hadn't been for his time machine. "That chronometer the agents gave me comes in really handy," he said, his thoughts drifting. "It actually gives me little warnings if I'm getting too close to another temporal event. It means I can't do some things I'd like to do, but things get complicated." She smiled. "You said they called it 'the Limelight Effect' or getting clock hammered, depending on what you were trying to do." He nodded. "They didn't like it when I called it 'clock-blocking'." "You said they had no sense of humor." Becky mused. "But maybe practicing with your Holmes Field Device in minor ways will help." He turned and looked at her. "How so?" "Well," she began, turning on her side to look at him, her hand propping up her head. Her nipples gently kissed the skin of his arm. "How about you take me out for dinner? We'll pick a low-traffic area, somewhere time travelers don't go. You said that your chronometer dials are difficult to physically turn and the Holmes Field device always skews numbers if you're trying to get anywhere that would prove troublesome." He considered what she was saying. "So, take you to some remote village in the past where no one else is ever interested in going. We can try finessing my control of the device." She nodded. "Precisely. I don't know about you, but I speak flawless French, we could visit a little village in France's past and we could get some dinner. You could learn how to deal with the locals, get a feel for what you'll have to do if you keep travelling the time stream." "It's weird how you can say words like 'time stream' so naturally, like it's normal," he sighed. "Still, you're right, careful practice is probably a good thing." "It'll be fun," she said, reaching over and taking hold of his hip to turn him into her. Her tits were now squashed to his chest, his soft cock against her gooey cunt. "How bad a teacher can I be for this? You made it through my physics class without tearing a hole in reality." "And yet I failed," he sighed. "I doubt I can fuck my way out of every bit of trouble I get myself into." She giggled and took his hand, pulling him off the bed and leading him to the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet to pee while she stroked his cock gently, She shivered as she peed, feeling his cum trickling of her, pulling him closer and taking him in her mouth. She hummed as she bobbed back and forth, enjoying their mingled taste. Mark had to admit that he was enjoying how relaxed she was around him now that they were lovers. "So," she said finally, pulling his cock out of her mouth with a quiet pop. "We'll shower and get cleaned up. Then we'll head to the public library to figure out where and what we're doing. Anybody asks, I'll say I'm helping you with your schoolwork." He smiled slyly, feeling a familiar tingle in his cock at the thought of showering with her. This was going to be a good night. "So here's a question," she remarked as she watched Mark get dressed in the outfit they'd bought for the occasion, hidden from prying eyes in her basement, where he kept the Holmes Field Device. They'd visited a costume shop and found clothing that was a good fit for the period they were visiting, that being France in the 1600's. "Did they ever tell you about any contacts you can make in the time stream? You know, like dealers?" He looked at her quizzically. "Dealers?" "Sure," she said, nodding. "There must be time-travelers who make their living by providing goods and services to other travelers. I mean, you need to be able to get money and supplies somewhere, so that you don't stick out like a sore thumb, right?" "Yeah, that'd make sense," he admitted. "I mean, I got lucky when I tried going to London and got that dress, I managed to pawn off some knick-knacks I'd brought with me, because I didn't know how else to pay for anything. And they thought I was just some ignorant American. I got out a lot quicker than I thought I would." "I think we should find out," she reasoned. "If you're going to do this, you should really learn how to find what you need." "Exactly how much time-travelling do you think I'm gonna be doing?" he asked, giving her a wry look before continuing to put on his new outfit. "Well, we know you have no future as a physicist, maybe you'll find something you're good at in the time stream," she giggled, making him sigh. She moved forward to help him get into his clothes, since he clearly had no idea what he was doing. "And even if you don't know how to find a dealer, I'm willing to bet that they'll know how to find a traveler." He couldn't argue with that logic and stood still while she corrected his attire, kissing his nose as she finished. He then watched as she got into her own period garb, doing so much more efficiently than he had done. She saw him looking at her and winked. "In spite of my physics major, I also did a lot of work in theater," she quipped, holding her top loosely in place over her opulent tits. "I've been in Les Mis a few times, so I know my way around period garb." "I feel bad about you bringing that jewelry to trade for money," he said, wishing he had more to offer. He didn't just yet, however. "Oh, they're nothing, it's just old gold I never wear," she said dismissively. "I'd probably just end up selling them in a pawn shop at some point. This way, at least it's getting some use. I sell these things I never wear, we get the proper currency, then we go and have some fun. I don't see how this can be a bad thing." "I guess I just feel like it should be me paying." Mark murmured, trying not to blush. "Silly," she giggled again. "You're an eighteen year-old boy. What one earth could you possibly have accumulated that the time stream would be interested in?" "Well, you got me there," he sighed, giving up and letting her continue. "Maybe I'll make it big in the time stream and then I can keep you buying you the presents you deserve." "Ooh, you honey-dripper," she cooed, smiling and kissing his nose before stepping back and examining him. "Well, you're starting to look the part. I'll use some gel in your hair to tousle it a little and then I think we're probably as close as we can get, since neither of us has syphilis or tuberculosis." He waited while she fixed his hair and then took care of her own, pulling her golden locks back in a bow. She was wearing a peasant dress, one that accentuated her small waist and large bust. His outfit, was more akin to a gentleman of northern Europe, with a blue vest and white breeches that he found rather tight, especially around the crotch. "So, milord," she lilted, threading her arm through his and smiling at him. "Shall we sally forth?" He nodded and walked over toward the time machine, his chronometer in hand. 17th Century, France. "Combien allez-vous me donner pour ce pendentif?" Becky asked the owner of the dingy little shop they were standing in. Candles flickered on the walls, dimly illuminating the musty room. The shop-owner, a wizened little man wearing crooked spectacles, looked up her with rheumy eyes. He held out a gnarled hand and she gently put the dull gold bangle into it. Her brought it close to his face, examining it intently. He weighed it in his palm and then scratched the inner surface, testing its contents. He licked his lip as he considered her offering. Finally he put it down. "Onze Louis," he declared, nodding. "Onze Louis, quatre livres, douze sous et vingt-et-trois deniers." Mark looked at Becky, who was considering what he had told them. After a few seconds, she seemed to think he was being reasonable. "Bien. Tout en livres et sous, s'il vous plait." The man counted out one hundred and sixty-six sous and pushed them across the counter. His eyes widened slightly as she pushed a gold necklace and two rings to him for appraisal. Half an hour later, they exited the shop with a small purse containing the equivalent of nearly fifty Louis, a small fortune by the standards of the period and their locale. "Here you go, milord," she said sweetly, pressing the purse into his palm. "It's only appropriate that you carry our funds, since you're the one cosplaying as the aristocracy." "Except my French sucks balls." Mark muttered as they walked down the dirt road. It was mid-morning and they'd arrived in a fallow field outside the town. Google maps indicated that it was empty in the modern day and online archive maps from France in 1652 indicated that it was much the same way back then. With careful calculations of time and distance, they'd arrived without incident. "Well, you speak Spanish, so we'll pretend you're from Madrid or something," she said simply, holding his arm again. "And I'll be the lusty French tart from Rouen who travels with you, keeping you enamored with our fair country." "You'd be stupidly good at Larp, you're really getting into this," he sighed. Larp?” Live action role playing. Any other hidden talents I should know about?" Mark inquired. "If I told you then they wouldn't be surprises," she pointed out. "We women love to be mysterious." "Well, at least you're a woman, most of the girls I know who do that stuff are just crazy." "That's because they're teenage girls, who are, by definition, 'bugfuck insane'." Becky added. "A lot of women are too, I suppose, but at least there's a chance our hormones have straightened out. Probably not much different here, except for the mortality rate." They walked down the cobblestone rode, attracting the occasional stare as they walked into the town. They stopped a stout, middle-aged man and asked where they might get some decent food and accommodations. "You are dressed rather unusually to be walking," he said, looking at Mark. "You seem to be a gentleman of quality, sir. I am the town's physician and apothecary, my name is Henri. And yours, monsieur?" Mark stuttered. "Mark, uh; mon nom; es;” "Marco," Becky interjected suddenly, relieving him of the burden of struggling to make his name known in French. "He is Senor Marco Del Strade, and he is a baron from Valencia." "I thought I was from Madrid." Mark whispered out of the side of his mouth. "Shut the fuck up, I'm thinking on the fly here!" she hissed back. "What did the Spaniard say?" asked the portly physician. "That didn't sound Spanish." "A curse of our association," she said sweetly, beaming a radiant smile at him. "The baron speaks no French, and I no Spanish, so we communicate en Anglais, with which we both have some facility." "A rather unusual arrangement," grunted the man. "Nonetheless, it would not do for our humble town to allow a gentleman of quality to not be looked after. I would recommend L'Auberge Des Loups." "The Wolves' Inn?" Mark muttered out loud, knowing enough French to get that translation. "That doesn't sound too safe." "Be at ease, my friends," Henri said, chuckling. "The wolf is on our town coat of arms, and the Inn is our most reputable establishment. If you have the money, they will give you what you need." He turned and pointed down the road. "There, you can see the inn from this spot. The two-story building with the gambrel roof and all the smoke coming out of the chimney. See it?" "Yes, good sir, and we thank you." Becky said, curtseying before smiling at the man and putting his rather fat, gout-ridden hand in hers. "For all of your help." "Ah, well, yes," he said, blushing and withdrawing his hand from hers. "When you go to the inn, tell the proprietor that Henri sent you. This will make things easier for you." And with that, the man waddled off. "He seemed nice, I guess," Mark mused as they resumed their trek into the town. "I mean, I missed a lot of what you two said, but it seemed to agree with you." "We just need to mention his name when we get to the inn and that'll apparently make our lives easier." Becky replied, thinking how quaint everything was. She couldn't believe she was actually in seventeenth century France! But then, she was fucking her former student who was a time-traveler, so clearly anything was possible. She had already promised herself she would enjoy every moment of this experience. She'd chosen the year as carefully as possible, noting that there were no major Plague outbreaks mentioned and she had insisted they bring very discretely concealed medications with them. Ignoring the stares of the townsfolk, they continued down the main street until they reached the inn. They tacitly avoided stepping in the various effluences that trickled between the cobblestones and stepped over the unconscious peasants who were sprawled in the middle of the street before opening the faded green doors and entering. Dark and musty, lit by wall sconces and an ancient wrought-iron chandelier overhead in which guttered many candles, the large common room was like something out of an HBO special, minus the lighting budget. Large, round table dominated the space, while a great hearth and a long counter encompassed most of the back wall. Lots of sun-browned peasant faces turned to look at them while some stringed instrument plunked away from a corner. The place smelled of smoke and what was probably body odor. Still ignoring the stares, Becky led Mark up to the counter, behind which stood a surly-looking man with a black moustache and beard. He observed them with interest as they approached. Mark stood silently while Becky addressed the man in French. "My lord the Baron is looking for clean and welcoming accommodations for the night," she began, indicating Mark. "Henri sent us to you, saying that you were the establishment in this town worthy of his business." "If you can pay, then yes, we will be able to room you comfortably," he answered, looking at Mark. "Our best room is one livre per night. I assume the baron can afford this?" She looked at Mark now. "A single night is one livre. Those'd be the silver coins. Get one out and just give it to him, without showing how much you actually have." Mark nodded and fished out one of the coins indicated, putting it on the counter for the proprietor to inspect. Satisfied, the man nodded. "This will cover the room. If his lordship has need of a bath or food, we can provide these things as well." "Fresh food?" she asked pointedly. "Only the freshest for the lord," laughed the man loudly, causing people nearby to chuckle. "Is he a mute?" "No, he is Spanish and speaks no French," she said flatly, fixing the man with a hard look. "You can speak to me, his servant, if you feel the need to communicate. You can bring him food now, and your finest wine, good sir." She then turned and took Mark's arm, leading him over to an empty table in the corner, once again ignoring the gazes that followed them. She sat down and sighed, nodding. "We'll eat and then see about the room and a bath," she declared, looking around and taking everything in. "If it's big enough, I'm sure we can get into all sorts of trouble in the tub." "I'd like that," he said, finally relaxing. "I'm glad you're taking to this so easily, because I'm way out of my element. London in the 1880's was hard enough, and all I was doing was pretending I was an American traveler. France in the time of the Louis the Sun King, that's a little out of my league." "Don't worry, once you hit your stride, you'll do fine," she said gently, patting his hand. "I've just had more weird experiences over the course of my life than you have and am adapting a little quicker is all." A jug of wine, two goblets, some hearty bread with butter and some onions and cheese was brought over by a wench who looked like John Rhys-Davies in drag. She belched and tottered off, having delivered her goods. "Although I'm not so sure about adapting to that." Becky said, shaking her head to clear it of the image. She unstopped the jug and poured the dark red wine into their goblets while Mark portioned out the bread, butter, cheese and onions. They both dug in, finally realizing how hungry they were. "Oh, wow, that's good," Becky remarked, looking into her goblet, having tried the wine. "Just remember to eat a lot of bread and butter, Mark, or you'll have the hangover from hell." He'd never had a wine quite like this before and they quickly polished off the jug before ordering another. They finished their bread and cheeses before being presented with a roasted suckling pig and two pheasants, stuffed with local herbs. They enjoyed eating, but the wine was strong enough to eventually get through all the food they'd lined their stomachs with. Becky was giggling and tipsy within the hour. "I can't beli; believe we're here in France," she said, her head tilted to one side. "An' we're gonna fuck; in the tub; an' then in our room, because; because; defiling the timeline; sounds like fun. It's fun, you know, to fuck across history;” "It is," Mark agreed, not as drunk as Becky but still feeling rather buzzed. His tongue felt thick from the wine, which she had explained was not treated with any modern pasteurization process and therefore would be full of tannins and sediments they would need to account for or suffer an assured hangover. "And you're the person I'd want to do it with, Becks;” Becky giggled and slid her hand along his leg, finally arriving at his crotch and giving the bulged contained in the tight breeches a squeeze. "You're not; not a time cop; you're a time cock; timeless cock;” Some musicians had come in a few minutes earlier and were sitting in another corner of the common room. They struck up a lively tune on their lutes, fiddles and a small drum. Becky's eyes lit up as the music reached them. "Oh, I love this song!" she said loudly in English before hopping up from the table and dancing her way with abandon into the middle of the room. People watched on and began to clap and cheer as she stood on a table and began capering. "How the hell does she know this song?" Mark wondered, frowning as he watched his Physics teacher begin to dance and sing. Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser! Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser! Un capuchon je lui donnerais Un capuchon je lui donnerais Danse, mon moine, danse! Tu n'entends pas la danse Tu n'entends pas mon moulin, lon la Tu n'entends pas mon moulin marcher. Mark watched in wonder as she tottered back over and flopped onto the bench next to him, breathing heavily and perspiring. She grinned at him lopsidedly and winked, still obviously rather inebriated. "Why did you know the lyrics to that song?" he asked, utterly baffled. She poured herself more wine and drained her goblet in one gulp, with a very loud Gluck! noise. Clearly, she was intent on partying. "Went to; a Catholic school; run by nunsh;” she slurred, trying to fill her cup again. "Lotsh of shingin' to; keep our little teen girl mindsh; off sheksh; Fuckin' love that shong, used to shing that shong; all the' time; fuckin'; great to dansh to;” "Yes, I noticed," he said, nodding and smiling. "You were almost flashing your tits and your cunt at the; the patrons;” "They can peek; but no touchy;” she said, taking another drink. "Thish pushy; only for you; I think; we'll shee;” She turned and looked at him, her eyes glazed and her skin flush from her exertions. "We're here; together, Mark, but; if you; ya' shee a girl ya' wanna fuck; I'm okay with; with that. "Jus' don' get the crabs!" She had broken into a snickering fit, pressing her forehead against the table as she tried to not fall over completely. Mark was chuckling and feeling really good watching how silly his teacher was being. She looked up suddenly, trying to wear a serious expression. "But one thing," she cautioned, holding up a finger and wagging it at one of the Marks she was looking at. There were three of them, so she chose the one in the middle. "No, moren one thing, but th' one thing'sh; important;” She leaned forward to whisper to him. "Keep your dicky in your pantsh unlesh; unlesh you know she'sh eighteen; 'cush the lawsh right now; 'she prolly legal to fuck 'em younger; but; you're from our time; our time;” She glowered at him drunkenly. "An' we don' fuck 'em if they're not eighteen; ya' got it?" He nodded. "Eighteen or older. Got it. And you can; miss, you can' "Not mish," she interrupted, waving away his comment. "Becky. Not fuckin' mish, remember?" "Sorry," he intoned, letting out a belch and patting his chest. The wine and cheese tasted great but were really fucking with him. "I'll be better; remember;” "Well, what wash it I can do?" she asked. "You were gonna; shay; I could do; what wash it?" Mark thought about that for a moment, unable to push through the wine-induced haze in his head. "I don' remember;” They both broke into laughter, much to the amusement of nearby patrons. Becky had her head on the table again, giggling until Mark slammed his palm on it in an expression of entertainment, shocking her and making her yelp. They looked at one another and burst into more fits of laughter. They'd drained another jug and polished off the pig and pheasants. Mark felt incredibly full, and drunk. Becky could barely stand up and she asked Mark to take her arm and lead them over to the proprietor behind the long counter once again. She shook her head a few times to clear it and he waited patiently for her to speak. "Shir, we'll be needing the bath now, and our room," she said slowly, making sure she could be understood. "Would you be so kind ash to show ush the way?" He tilted his head slightly. "Comment?" "You just spoke to him in English, Becks." Mark told her. Her glassy eyes widened and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to die of embarrassment. "For fuck's sakes;” she muttered. She took a deep breath and repeated herself in labored French. He nodded and led them up the back, away from the common room. It took Becky fifteen minutes to get up the single flight of stairs because it wouldn't stop spinning. Mark sighed as he sat in the large, round wooden tub, his arms resting on the side while his hands gripped the rim. The steaming water splashed over the side as he shuddered and groaned loudly, cumming. Spent, he sank back onto the small ledge and breathed heavily. The water stirred and Becky surfaced, exhaling. Her golden hair clung to her wetly and her glorious tits glistened. She grinned at her student. "See?" she declared, obviously pleased as she pulled her hair over her shoulders. "Told you I could make you cum before having to surface for air." "Jesus, you must've been down there over two minutes," he breathed, never ceasing to be stunned by her carnal skills. "How the hell do you hold your breath that long?" Becky cricked her neck and settled onto Mark's lap, her arms around his neck. She gave him a peck on the nose. "Lots of cardio and physical training." "Obviously." Mark agreed. "Not that I'm complaining, mind." "Hmm, didn't think you would," she purred. "But only half of this equation has been solved, big boy. I haven't cum yet. Since you're friend down there is taking a nap, how good are you at holding your breath?" "Not that good," he chuckled. "I'm happy to lick your cunt, but you'll need to keep it above water." She smiled and rolled her eyes before getting off his lap. He moved aside and allowed her to kneel on the little ledge he'd been sitting on, leaning over the rim of the tub and resting her forearms on it. She looked back at him and winked while wiggling her sexy, toned behind him. Her cuntlips were dripping and looked inviting. Mark knelt in the middle of the tub, behind Becky's ass and took hold of it, kissing the wet cheeks. Becky cooed and squirmed under the attention, one of her hands cupping a tit and squeezing it. She could feel Mark's lips and tongue moving slowly inward toward her core. She bit her lip and sighed. He touched her cunt, kissing it gently and sliding his tongue up and down the twat, which parted easily before him. Her heard her moan and tasted her tang as he pushed inside her while using his thumbs to pull her inner thighs apart so he could get further into his teacher's snatch. She shivered and pushed back against him, eager for more. "Hmm, Mark;” she cooed, her eyes shut as she felt his tongue inside her. "Yes, right there, lover. Oh, you really know how to use your tongue;” He smiled at her compliment and pulled his tongue out to massage her clit with it, rolling around the little bud and making her gasp sharply. He slid a finger inside her, followed by another and she groaned. He could feel her cunt tightening around his digits and began to push them back and forth slowly while he nibbled and sucked her clit. Becky shuddered again and leaned down, biting at her knuckle while squeezing her tit harder, massaging it vigorously. Mark lashed her clit while fingering her tight twat and then slid a single finger into her ass. Her breath caught in her throat and she gripped the ledge of the tub, her fingers raking along the iron-bound wood. "Fuck, Mark," she whimpered. "Yes, make me cum. I want to cum in your mouth!" Mark worked her cunt harder, sliding the fingers back and forth, pushing in deeper each time. His tongue massaged her clit relentlessly or he sucked on it. She was squirming and writhing back against him, groaning unashamedly. He was beyond caring if anyone heard them at this point. Becky was panting heavily now, her eyes glazing over as she ground her ass against Mark's face, feeling his fingers in her cunt and her ass, wiggling and pushing her closer and closer to orgasm. She would miss his cum inside her, but she would surely get it before long, Mark was developing good stamina under her guidance. She arched her back and moaned loudly as she began to cum, pleasure blossoming through her from her cunt and out to her fingers and toes. Her body shook while she climaxed, the wet, gooey ecstasy of colors in her mind letting her; Invasion. There was a smash, like wood splintering, the creak of worn metal. Her eyes snapped open in confusion, the unreal delight of her orgasm draining away as men in masks and dark clothes surged into the room, at least five of them and more shadows in the hallway. Most were holding knives or small clubs, but she saw the one in front carrying a heavy flintlock pistol. Even in the darkness of the room, lit only by candles around the wall, she could see the wicked scar on his cheek. "Arrêtez! Reste tranquille et je ne te tuerai pas!" he rasped, pointing his pistol at her while his comrades moved into the room and began searching for something. "Qui es-tu?" Becky demanded, getting angry not only about the intruders, but the fact that her orgasm was slipping away. She could feel Mark still kneeling behind her, looking on in shock at what was happening. "Tais-toi, salope!" the man barked, moving toward her and drawing a wicked knife from his belt, his men now ransacking the room. He placed the point of the knife at her throat and Mark felt a cold fear run up his spine. "Do not speak to me in that tone if you' He never finished the sentence as Becky grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the knife and twisted, hard. The man with the scar yelped as he lost his grip on the knife and the blonde woman leapt out of the tub, her knee smashing into his face. He staggered backward and then went flying as her foot slammed into his ribcage. He crashed through a table and this got the attention of the thugs he'd brought with him. They all looked in shock at the naked blonde tigress for a moment and then surged in on her, knives and cudgels ready. "A little help here, hero!" Becky shrilled as she scampered away from the incoming bandits. "This isn't sex, don't make me do all the work!" "Hey now!" Mark protested, half-rising out of the relative protection of the tub because of her taunt. "It's not like you do all' "Goddammit, Mark!" Becky shouted as she ducked the swing of a club and punched her attacker in the balls. "You'd better hope they kill us, because if I survive, I'm going to crack open your skull and suck your brain out with a straw! Help me!" Mark came to his senses and vaulted over the side of the tub, trying not to think about the fact that he was buck naked and rushing toward his teacher and her assailants. He crashed into the smallest man, bearing him to the ground and winding him. Not sure what else to do, he began punching the bandit, knocking his cloth mask askew so he could not see. The man struggled wildly to get out from underneath his naked foe. "Huh!" Mark choked out as another thug grabbed him by the throat from behind and started pulling him off the man he was on top of. He could feel his tongue beginning to bulge out of his mouth and was thinking he must look incredibly foolish, like Jabba the Hutt when Princess Leia strangled him with the chain. He couldn't die like that. He couldn't. With a limp dick and a swollen tongue? In front of Becky? He'd taken some karate, although he was no expert. His skin was still wet and he went limp, using sudden deadweight to break his attacker's hold on his throat, although he hissed in pain when he felt the man's ragged nails crease through his skin as he lost his grip. With a thud! Mark hit the floor and did the only thing he could think of doing; he grappled onto the man and took him down in a rough tumble. He desperately rolled until he was on top and rammed his knee into the man's stomach. He heard the man wheeze but then sparks exploded behind his eyes as something cracked across the back of his head. He didn't fall over but scrambled away in a panic, wishing he could see in the darkness or that the room would stop spinning. Becky landed in a heap on top of him, knocking him back to the floor. She was still naked and incredibly angry from the sounds of her. "That's it, buster!" she roared as she surged back to her feet and charged her attacker. Mark dazedly looked over and watched as his teacher sprinted across the room, her foe giving chase. She leapt in the air and to the wall, her foot making contact. Before anyone was ready, she sprang backward, smashing her foot across the man's jaw in a roundhouse kick that they must have heard on the edge of town. The man went down like a sack of flour. "Alright, who's next?" she shouted, standing in the middle of the room, naked and scratched up. She grabbed a pewter jug and slammed it backward into the head of a man coming up behind her. He went down. "I didn't know you did parkour!" Mark called out as he tackled another thug from behind, taking him to the floor. "I do a lot of things to take out my sexual frustrations!" she snapped back, picking up a bench and throwing it at two assailants to keep them off-balance. "Parkour, jiu-jutsu, archery, Krav-Maga. I was kind of hoping that fucking would allow me to vent a little steam!" "I can see why!" Mark said as he smashed the man's face into the floor repeatedly. Even in his weirdest dreams, he'd never imagined fighting French bandits while buck naked. He wondered if the Temporal Enforcement Agency would be up his ass about this incident. "Oh, shut up!" she shrilled, kicking a man between the legs from behind and then suplexing him after he doubled over in pain. The floor splintered with the impact, but Becky rolled to her feet and grabbed his cudgel. "You still owe me an orgasm, mister!" "Okay, okay!" Mark said hastily. A sallow man confronted him, wearing an eye-mask, who brandished a knobbed club. The bandit grinned at him, clearly intent on bashing his head in. Thinking quickly, Mark stood and looked somber, clasping his fist in his hand and bowing, like they did in his mom's tai chi class. The bandit looked confused for a moment before Mark bowed again and then made a motion urging the bandit to do the same. Still not sure what was happening but wanting to get on with things, the bandit bowed at the waist clumsily. Mark broke a chair over his head before grabbing the cudgel and rushing to Becky's side. "So very nice of you to join me," Becky panted as they faced off against the three remaining intruders, who were trying to surround them. Mark and Becky backed up toward the outer wall, the window behind them. The men closed in. There was a groan and a clatter as the man with the scar on his cheek slowly got to his feet from the pile of broken furniture he'd been laying in and approached them, his henchmen parting to make way for him. "Pour votre arrogance, je vous verrai mort." he growled, pointing his pistol at Mark. Trapped, Mark squeezed his eyes shut; click! Mark blinked and opened his eyes. The scar-faced man was scowling at his pistol, which was letting off a small tuft of smoke but had failed to go off. Was the powder wet? With a roar of fury, Becky was on him. "Get the other three!" she yelled as she rearranged his face. "I've got this one!" Too bewildered to be afraid and exhilarated to be alive, Mark charged the remaining three thugs, who were all backing away in confusion. None of this had gone according to plan, the majority of their fellow bandits were strewn around the room, beaten unconscious by a naked man and a crazy blonde hellion with big tits and a shaved cunt. "C'est des conneries!" she raged as she beat the man around the room, showing no mercy. "I came to the Sun King's France to drink wine, have a good time and get laid! And you fuckers just had to try and rob me, didn't you? All sorts of peasants to pick on, but no! You thought you'd get lucky with two strangers! Well va te faire enculer, pal!" Mark lost track of the whirlwind of violence his teacher had become while he ducked the swipe of a knife and then kicked the leg out from under a thug, dislocating his knee and dropping him. He whirled around and got lucky with the cudgel, cracking it across the jaw of another man, who spun like a top and fell to the ground. He was beginning to notice that he was taller than just about all these men, often by a significant margin. Some were barely taller than Becky. Had nutrition really been that bad in this era? The last one got desperate and lunged at him, but Mark twisted and used his foe's momentum to send him sailing past and smashing into the window. The unconscious man slumped halfway through the shutter and the sounds of commotion in the street below reached him. He shouldn't have been surprised that they were causing a stir. He looked around the room to see if any other foes were standing, but saw only sprawled bodies everywhere, some stirring slightly. The only other sound was that of a face being punched. He looked over to see Becky squatting on the scarred man's chest, grappling into his collar and socking him repeatedly in the mouth while swearing in French. "Nique ta mere!" thump! "Oh, you really pissed me off!" she growled as she huiled the man up by the shirt and dragged him stumbling over to the tub, where she pushed his head under the water. He thrashed about in a panic before she let him back up, gasping for air. "You like that?" she shouted, thumping his head off the side of the tub several times for emphasis. "Ya' think it's funny to barge into a girl's room when she's about to get her rocks off? Is that it?" She shoved his head back underwater again, waiting until he was thrashing around in terror again before pulling him back out and dragging him over to the bed. She threw him against it so that he was kneeling, supported by the straw-stuffed mattress as he swooned. "Hold him down, Mark;” she growled. Unsure of what to do aside from comply, Mark got on the bed and pinned the man's arms against the mattress, putting all his weight on them to keep him in place. He watched in growing confusion as Becky knelt behind the man and yanked his breeches down, exposing his pock-marked behind. She found his flintlock pistol and glared at it for a moment before fiddling with the mechanism, cocking it. The man's eye flared wide and he howled in pain and horror as she pushed the barrel inside his ass. "Alright, buttercup," she said with a sweetness that oozed cruelty. "You're going to explain who told you to come and rob us. And if you don't, I pull the trigger and put your brains on the ceiling." Mark warily shuffled aside on the bed, away from the top of the man's skull. "Do you understand me?" Becky asked quietly, giving the pistol a jiggle. "Probably not," Mark said, trying to sound conciliatory. "You're speaking English again." Becky realized he was right and swore under her breath. Rather than say it all again in French, she decided to just get to the point. She pressed the pistol in an inch further, ignoring the resistance she encountered. "Dites-mois qui vous a envoye," she growled. "Tell me or I blow an asshole in the top of your head." "Henri!" the scar-faced man gasped and whimpered. "He told us you would be here and you have much money!" "Oh, did he now?" Becky growled, forgetting to speak French as she glared at the bandit. "I am going to eat that man's children;” She roughly grabbed the man and spun him around to face her, without removing the pistol muzzle from his ass. His face was pale with fright and artfully rearranged by her fist. He was still leaning back against the bed, not daring to move, breathing heavily. "Maintenant," Becky began, still glowering at him. "You're going to tell me where to' She paused as she looked down at the man's crotch and saw that he was sporting a throbbing erection. "Are you fucking kidding me?" she shouted angrily, yanking the pistol out of his ass and then slamming the grip across his head with a loud crack! The bandit's eyes rolled into his head and he slumped to the ground, very unconscious. "Huh," Mark said as he glanced down at the prone villain. "I guess guys really can get erections from that sort of thing. I thought it was bullshit." "It ought to be, under these circumstances," Becky groused, folding her arms and looking pissed off. "You don't spring wood when a girl's got a gun shoved up your ass, especially after you try to rob her! I don't feel the least bit bad about not giving him a reach-around. Fucker;” "Would you really have pulled the trigger and blown his brains out?" he asked somewhat nervously. "Oh, of course, not," she snorted, giving him a wry look. "I'm not a monster." "You sure fight like one." Mark said, using his hand to indicate the carnage around the room. Bad guys were strewn everywhere, and he was pretty sure he couldn't claim most of them. "Well, they had it coming," she sniffed. "They interrupted my orgasm. It's just rude." She then turned and looked at him, her expression much softer. "Thank you, Mark, for all your help. You saved me, I couldn't have done it on my own." "Yeah, well, you wouldn't have been in danger if I hadn't brought you here in that damn time machine." Mark said, a feeling of guilt washing over him. She knelt next to him on the bed and hugged him close, their bodies pressing together. She smiled at him and kissed his nose. "Don't be sad," she cooed. "I haven't had this much adventure in ages." Mark smirked. "If you've got romps in your past that compare to this, I wanna hear about them." "Oh, you'll need to do a lot more fucking to coax those out of me, young man," she whispered, reaching down between them to take gentle hold of his cock and begin stroking. "But maybe I won't make it too difficult for; Mark, it's very rude to stare off into space while a girl is trying to seduce you. Mark?" "I'm not staring off into space, Becks." Mark said, staring past her shoulder. "Oh, really?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips and looking annoyed, still kneeling in front of him. "Then what is so fascinating that even my tits can't distract you?" He indicated a direction behind her with a nod. "Voyeurs." Becky turned her head slowly and looked across the room at the door. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed several dark shapes in the hallway, gazing into the room in astonishment. With a sigh, she got off the bed, grabbed a candle that hadn't been destroyed and walked over to the door, clearly beyond caring that she was still naked. She could see men and women now, backing up uncertainly at her approach. She also spied one particular silhouette, large and with a big beard, lurking near the back and trying to not be seen. "Oh no you don't, pal," she called out, snapping her fingers and then pointing at the man before making a beckoning motion. "Get your sorry ass over here;” Henri, the peasant girls, and hospitality. Mark sighed in pleasure and took another drink from the jug of wine he was holding, trying to not spill any. He pulled his lips away and looked down his body. He was sitting in a large, plush bed, blissfully naked. Between his legs, a local girl with dark brown hair girl was bobbing her mouth up and down on his cock ardently, clearly interested in pleasing him. "This one's the innkeeper's daughter?" he mused, enjoying her mouth. She paused sucking on him for a moment to look up and smile eagerly before returning to her task. "She loves cock for sure." "She's one of his daughters," Becky agreed, propped up beside him, equally naked and holding the head of a girl who was lying between her legs, her face buried in the blonde's cunt, which she was licking hungrily. "This is the other one." "You frightened him so badly that he's letting us fuck his daughters?" Mark laughed. "He's given us his personal quarters, given us all the food and drink we want and we can fuck his daughters?" "What can I say, I'm persuasive." Becky grunted, shivering and grinding herself into the face of the daughter. "He'll let us stay for the week, he doesn't want word getting around that a noble had a fiasco in his inn. He'd probably give us his wife, too, if I demanded it. We're too close to Paris and word would get around and wreck his business." "If trashing that room and leaving bandits everywhere doesn't, nothing would." Mark breathed, holding the girl by the hair. "Seriously, it looks like Metallica stayed in that room now. What'll we do about that Henri asshole?" "I'll think of it later, I'm a little busy." Becky hissed, squirming and knotting her fingers in the peasant girl's hair. "Uh, it's been so long, since a girl ate me." "You had a sexy phase? I didn't know you liked girls." Mark said, smirking at her. "Back in high school, maybe," Becky admitted. "Haven't been with one since then." "But I do have a question," he said, focusing past the daughter's wicked mouth. "In all the hassle and afterward, I never asked the innkeeper how old his daughters were." "So?" Becky gasped, eyes squeezed shut and bucking her hips. "Well, what if they're not eighteen? You said yourself that we have to hold ourselves to the standards of the time we come from, right?" "You're thinking of that now?" she groaned through clenched teeth. "I; fuck; Mark, it's 1640 right now. That means these girls can't be any less than three hundred and ninety-two in our time. Good enough?" "Good enough!" he laughed. Rationalization seemed to be a handy skill when you were time travelling. He looked over and saw Becky pull the girl away from her crotch and rustle over to him. He stayed still while she straddled his lap, facing down his body. With one hand, she took hold of his cock and held it steady while she positioned herself above it. The two sisters, every bit as naked as them, nestled on the bed below his legs, pressing against one another's sides. They grinned at one another and kissed, their tongues tangling as they waited for Becky to continue. With a sigh, his teacher lowered herself onto his cock, the mushroom head splitting her wet lips before sliding inside her. She sunk down with a groan until he was in to the hilt. She then slowly laid herself back against him, allowing Mark fondle her tits while she squirmed and writhed on him. The sisters moved in and began licking at his cock or kissing her cunt lips and clit while the two guests fucked. "Oh, Heaven;” Becky purred as she caressed his cheek, turning her head to kiss him, their tongues slithering around while she undulated slowly on his lap. "This is what time travel's all about;” Mark held her with one hand, fondling her tits and pinching her nipples while his other hand found the wine jug and poised it just over her torso. She hummed in pleasure as he trickled the dark red liquid over her fair skin, letting it cascade down her exquisite form. One of the sisters noticed and knelt up, beginning to lick it off Becky's tits and stomach while the other noisily slurped it from the Mark's cock and Becky's cunt. "God, forget the Sun King's France, we belong in Caligula's Rome," Becky moaned, shivering in delight at how decadent they were being. "We'll need to; hmm; we'll need to find time to attend an orgy, Mark; how's your Latin?" "Not as good as yours, I imagine," he replied, his tongue still swirling around with hers while they fucked. "But I'd be happy to learn it if we can attend a real orgy." He put the jug of wine aside and used both hands to molest her again, squeezing her tits and gripping her skin. Becky writhed and him, pressing down with her hips, shuddering as the two sisters licked her and nipped at her skin. She begged the universe n

Zephaniah 3:9-20

“110925am”. The post Satisfied! appeared first on Bible Baptist Church.

Ryan launches a multi-part series, Twisted Passions, addressing homosexuality and same-sex attraction from a biblical framework. He establishes why pastors should clearly preach what Scripture says while also equipping the church to counsel and care for strugglers, and he outlines upcoming topics: Is this sin “different,” are people “born this way,” and how do we raise kids in a sexualized culture? The aim is clarity, compassion, and confident hope in Christ for real victory.Topics DiscussedWhy churches must preach plainly on homosexuality (OT & NT texts)Common progressive rebuttals and why they don't hold up biblically (e.g., “love = affirmation,” misuse of John 8)Word study: ἀρσενοκοίτης and Paul's clarity in 1 Cor 6 / 1 Tim 1Beyond the pulpit: moving from denunciation to discipleship and counseling in the local churchShepherding kids in a perverted culture; building a proactive family planInviting listener questions/testimonies for future episodesKey TakeawaysScripture speaks clearly; pastors should, too—without hatred or compromise.“Love the sinner; hate the sin” isn't a cliché—Jesus says, “Go and sin no more.”Paul's terminology intentionally names male-with-male practice; it isn't vague.Churches must pair clear preaching with hands-on help for real people.Parents need an intentional, early plan to disciple children amid cultural lies.Ready to download the Cord App? Find it here!Download the Satisfied Battle Plan or listen to the rest of the series here!Satisfied is a monthly program on the Thee Generation Podcast designed to offer practical tools based on biblical principles so that anyone can experience full purity and lead others to do the same. To ask questions or share testimonies, send an email to satisfied@theegeneration.org.   If you've been encouraged by this podcast, please take the time to give us a five-star rating and write a brief review. That would help tremendously in getting the word out and raising the visibility of the Thee Generation for others. For more faith inspiring resources and information about joining Thee Generation, please visit theegeneration.org.

In the midst of life’s busyness, God invites us to step away into a quiet place and rest in His presence. Mark 6:31 shows that even Jesus, fully God and fully man, sought moments of stillness—sometimes with those He loved. Welcoming quiet allows our souls to recalibrate, hear God’s voice, and find true peace amid the noise of daily life. Highlights Jesus modeled the need for quiet and rest, inviting His followers to join Him. Quiet time isn’t just physical rest; it’s a soul-level invitation to be with God. Embracing stillness allows us to hear God’s tender voice, not our inner critic. Scripture encourages us to stop striving: Psalm 46:10, Psalm 131:2, and Jeremiah 31:3. Quiet helps us develop contentment, security, and joy in God’s presence. Practical steps: switch off distractions, focus inward, and allow God to fill your mind and heart. Regular quiet cultivates a deeper connection with God and His peace. Gift Inspiration: Crosswalk's Holiday Gift Guide Looking for a meaningful way to celebrate the season? Check out our Holiday Gift Guide—from beautifully illustrated Bibles and devotionals to novels, greeting cards, and picture books, there’s something for everyone on your list. Wrap up stories for loved ones, tuck a book into your own nightstand, and join us in celebrating the wonder of giving this Christmas! Full Transcript Below: Welcoming the Quiet By Cindi McMenamin Bible Reading: “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” (Mark 6:31 NIV) Jesus said these words to His followers after a busy day in ministry. Perhaps He felt drained from all the demands and expectations placed upon Him from crowds of people who wanted something from Him. Perhaps He felt burdened at all there was to do, and so many people to help that He needed to get away to a quiet place with His Father in heaven. And certainly, He knew His followers could use some rest and respite as well. And that’s why He invited them to come with Him to the quiet to get some rest. If Jesus, being fully God, yet fully man, could sense His need to go away to a quiet place, then we should sense our need for the stillness and quiet as well. And I find it interesting that Jesus, while there were times He got away by Himself to be with God, in this particular verse, He invited those He loved to come away with Him. Part of Jesus’ rest and refueling was to be with those He loved—in the quiet. Intersecting Faith & Life: Do you ever sense the need to get away from it all to a quiet place where you can get some rest? Perhaps you sense that every day. But that is more than just your body’s way of saying “get some rest” or your mind’s way of saying, I need a vacation. I believe it’s our soul’s way of saying “God’s been waiting. Get away with Him.” I believe it’s Jesus’ way of saying, “Come with Me to a quiet place where we can be together.” You and I can view quiet, alone times as reminders of our loneliness and do everything we can to avoid them. Or, we can try to get to a place where we think it will be quiet, but we’ll be taking our noisy minds and selves with us. But I encourage you to welcome the quiet as a much-needed respite from the noise—and as an invitation from God who has been whispering to you: Come with Me to a quiet place and get some rest. How often do we feel we must set aside time to be with God and then feel guilty for not doing it? How often our hearts may long for a getaway with Him, not realizing that getaway is available to us every moment of the day because He indwells us and calls us to come to Him within the recesses of our hearts. “Be still and know that I am God,” says Psalm 46:10 (NIV). We can get to know Him in the stillness as we allow Him to quiet our thoughts, and we begin to focus on His presence. Psalm 46:10 in the New American Standard Bible reads: “Stop striving and know that I am God.” Having a heart at rest means we are not striving to control, not anxious or stressed about what might happen, or all that we have to do. It means we are in a place of quiet contentment, like David sang in Psalm 131:2: “I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me” (ESV). Quiet. Full. Satisfied. Secure. Is it time to slow your pace, switch off the inner chatter, and ask God to still your mind from anxiety or busyness and flood it with His peace? Is it time to close the app, shut the lid on your device, or turn off the music or the TV, and develop a heart that not only welcomes but longs for the quiet stillness? It’s there you will begin to discern your Savior’s voice, which is much more loving than your own internal critic. It is there you will hear His tender words: I have loved you with an everlasting love… I have drawn you with kindness (Jeremiah 31:3). It is there you will be assured of His promise to never leave you or abandon you (Hebrews 13:5). It is there, in His presence, that you will find fullness of joy (Psalm 16:11). Embrace the quiet of your day—or escape to it by carving it out somewhere—so you can get away with God in your heart. Close your eyes. Enjoy the stillness of the moment and the assurance of His presence. Spend some time thanking Him for breathing rest –and quiet—into your day. Further Reading: Matthew 11:28-30 For a guided plan for growing closer to God in the quiet, see book: The New Loneliness Devotional: 50 Days to a Closer Connection with God. Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

Send us a textGuest: Kris Kluver, Founder of Life on Your Terms — speaker, facilitator, best-selling author, advisor, and coach helping leaders design fulfillment that matches their ambition.Summary: In this powerful replay, Kris Kluver flips the script on success. Too many high performers master their business but neglect their well-being — Kris shows how to align both. From defining what success really means to knowing when to say no, this conversation is about creating freedom, balance, and impact on your terms.Timestamps: 02:39 Who is Kris Kluver, the coach? 05:33 Are A-type personalities ever truly satisfied? 06:23 The evolution of Kris' brand 12:14 How to grow your business and yourself 20:37 Redefining success 26:09 One action to transform your life 29:59 Just because you can… should you? 31:49 The courage to change 37:39 The Life on Your Terms process 41:31 Rethinking failure 45:59 The offer that changes everythingLinkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/kriskluver/Kris' Website: https://lifeon-yourterms.com/Want to be featured as a guest on Making Data Simple? Reach out to us at almartintalksdata@gmail.com and tell us why you should be next. The Making Data Simple Podcast is hosted by Al Martin, WW VP Technical Sales, IBM, where we explore trending technologies, business innovation, and leadership ... while keeping it simple & fun.

Send us a textGuest: Kris Kluver, Founder of Life on Your Terms — speaker, facilitator, best-selling author, advisor, and coach helping leaders design fulfillment that matches their ambition.Summary: In this powerful replay, Kris Kluver flips the script on success. Too many high performers master their business but neglect their well-being — Kris shows how to align both. From defining what success really means to knowing when to say no, this conversation is about creating freedom, balance, and impact on your terms.Timestamps: 02:39 Who is Kris Kluver, the coach? 05:33 Are A-type personalities ever truly satisfied? 06:23 The evolution of Kris' brand 12:14 How to grow your business and yourself 20:37 Redefining success 26:09 One action to transform your life 29:59 Just because you can… should you? 31:49 The courage to change 37:39 The Life on Your Terms process 41:31 Rethinking failure 45:59 The offer that changes everythingLinkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/kriskluver/Kris' Website: https://lifeon-yourterms.com/Want to be featured as a guest on Making Data Simple? Reach out to us at almartintalksdata@gmail.com and tell us why you should be next. The Making Data Simple Podcast is hosted by Al Martin, WW VP Technical Sales, IBM, where we explore trending technologies, business innovation, and leadership ... while keeping it simple & fun.

Preached at Gospel Lighthouse in Bossier City, La.www.Churchlighthouse.com

In Philippians 4:10-14, Paul thanked the Philippians for caring for his needs, yet he explained to them that he had learned to be content in all circumstances because he was fully satisfied in Christ. We can experience Paul's unwavering satisfaction only if we go to the Source of it!

Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” John 4:13-14Support the show, a product of Hope Media: https://hope1032.com.au/donate/2211A-pod/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

At Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Charleston, SC, our senior pastor Rev. Craig Bailey preached again from Hebrews 11:6, encouraging us to diligently seek the Lord.

Online Service Sunday November 2, 2025Grace Community Church 5102 Old National Pike Frederick, MD 21702 Pastor Jon Keeler-Lead PastorPastor Kyle Barnette-Pastor of DiscipleshipPastor Paul Wareham-Community PastorWorship Set List-Take You At Your Word-Cody CarnesEnough-Elias DummerThe Goodness Of Jesus-CityAlightHis Glory And My Good-CityAlightWelcome! Thank you for joining us today. Please check out our event on YouVersion to follow along with today's message.Make sure you head over to our website: http://www.gracetoday.org​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​Email prayer requests to: GracePrays@gccfred.org

Philip dives into a voicemail left by a caller who was upset that a News/Talk radio station is delivering journalism. Please Like, Comment and Follow 'Philip Teresi on KMJ' on all platforms: --- Philip Teresi on KMJ is available on the KMJNOW app, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube or wherever else you listen to podcasts. -- Philip Teresi on KMJ Weekdays 2-6 PM Pacific on News/Talk 580 AM & 105.9 FM KMJ | Website | Facebook | Instagram | X | Podcast | Amazon | - Everything KMJ KMJNOW App | Podcasts | Facebook | X | Instagram See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Philip dives into a voicemail left by a caller who was upset that a News/Talk radio station is delivering journalism. Please Like, Comment and Follow 'Philip Teresi on KMJ' on all platforms: --- Philip Teresi on KMJ is available on the KMJNOW app, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube or wherever else you listen to podcasts. -- Philip Teresi on KMJ Weekdays 2-6 PM Pacific on News/Talk 580 AM & 105.9 FM KMJ | Website | Facebook | Instagram | X | Podcast | Amazon | - Everything KMJ KMJNOW App | Podcasts | Facebook | X | Instagram See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 20 Zane s Assembly In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             Running into a wall is bad, having it fall on you is worse but not being missed is the worst         Since I had mastered the moment so successfully with conversation I shut the hell up and took the crowd toward my room. Halfway up the stairs I expected Jill to call out but it didn't happen. I counted myself lucky, handed out fresh t-shirts to Paris and Leigh, only to have Paige regale them for fifteen minutes about all the female swag I had in my dorm room, from female silk robes in a variety of lengths and colors to thongs and dog collars. Girls should not look at me and lick their lips; it is scary because I thought that men went to college to chase women, not the other way around. Back at the start of the year, I knew that I was such a Man-Stud that I'd pick up more than my fair share too. I now have multiple women in my life and one day soon I hope to chase one down and call her my own, provided the other women let me. "We will see you later," Leigh gave me a sexy nudge with her hip. I nodded and promptly made sure my windows were locked. They had the annoying habit of being unlocked with glowing neon signs outside that said "Kappa Sigmas enter here". This time I was ready for them. I was also on the ball enough to know that when none of the Kappa Sigmas were upset by my action, that indicated there was something going on that I was clueless about. I was hardly convinced to let my guard down by the limited conversation the three sorority sisters and I had as I escorted them out of the house and kissed them goodnight. I diverged to the dryer to warm up Paris and Leigh's shirts. I kissed Aunt Jill goodnight as well. She gave me a bemused, maternal look as I headed back to my room before my 'bed time'. I must have looked like I felt, pretty exhausted. I joined Iona and Paige in the bathroom where we went through the nightly routine before heading for bed. They stripped slowly; I crawled into bed fully clothed and was feeling rather clever with myself. "No, you don't," Paige insisted. "Zane," Iona gave an angelic smile, "you have to do what you feel comfortable with but this is a matter of trust between us." Was Iona beating me up with a variation on the argument I'd used on Vivian a few hours ago? I was definitely undecided so Iona brushed my lips with hers. "It's okay." The only thing worse than being manipulated is being manipulated with sincerity. I shucked my clothes and shot them to the foot of the bed. I took in the view of Paige and Iona stripped out of their bras, then panties. Paige even made a little game of it, shooting her panties at my head. She missed so I snatched them as they sailed past. Paige flashed me a wicked grin as I did so. "Hey, Zane," she purred. Paige put her knee on the bed, followed by the other, so that she was standing on her knees. "Hey," Iona mimicked from the other side. Together, they sensually flowed toward me and each other. When they were settled against my hip they looked down and smiled. "You both look lovely," I sighed dreamily at my slightly-built beauties. They graced me with a smile once more before looking into one another's eyes. Then they kissed, and after that they really kissed, and several steamy seconds later the girls extended their right hands to their opposite's breast. They rolled their tits beneath their palms. I would have wept at this point but it would have been unmanly. When their left hands joined in the fun I nearly lost it. Did I mention they hadn't stopped kissing yet? It was hard enough that I was intimately familiar with their bodies, head to toe. I was the first man either of them had put lips to lust with (discarding Paige's grade school fiascoes). I had licked, teased, and plucked those nipples they were now so readily fondling. I had placed them naked in bed with other women and beheld their first steps into a far more sexually dynamic life than a strict fundamental Christian life would have deposited them in. I would have continued to wax poetic on the vision above me but the horror of my decision to sleep with both their naked bodies without sex was grinding my happiness into despair. "Oh, wow," Paige giggled, "it's throbbing on his stomach." She was referring to my cock. If it had something larger than a series of nerve clusters, my cock would have been screaming at me, questioning my sanity and demanding a passionate reason I wasn't mounting them both, drilling them hard, and going back for seconds, and thirds. They both leaned down onto one arm before reclining to their sides. "Good night, Zane," Iona whispered. She kissed me on the lips, rather chastely, then rolled over so that her back was to me. She wiggled her ass tight against my thigh because, you know, I have a thing for asses. "Sweet dreams of me," Paige gave a sultry roll of the voice. She rested her head on my shoulder and languidly placed her right arm on my chest and her right leg on my groin. Her hand came to rest on the top of my sternum while her knee covered my balls and the base of my cock. My sexual organ gave her limb a sympathetic throb. Paige sighed pleasurably, enjoying the torture she was putting me through. My right arm cradled Paige and drew her tighter. She kissed my chest with a feather-light touch. My left arm draped around Iona with my wrist being poked by her left nipple (it was still aroused by Paige's attentions) while my fingers coasted along her stomach. I drummed my hand on her abdomen; Iona snuggled in deeper and gave me a delightful little murmuring noise. That was enough to send me off to sleep and I was grateful. If I hadn't been asleep I knew I was going to stick my cock into something, even if it was an electric outlet. I couldn't screw Iona and wouldn't sex up Paige because she would never let me get over having broken down and nailed her in defiance of my own word. What woman doesn't want to think her body can drive a man to forgo his honor? Again, she would never, ever let me forget it. I wasn't sure how long I'd been asleep when I heard my bedroom door open. I wasn't sure what Jill would want this late but that wasn't a problem. The first one through the door was Leigh but Paris and Ricky Frasier snuck in right behind her. I need to invest in some home defense apparatus, things like pit-traps, trip-wires, and nests of feral Chihuahuas. "Don't worry, Zane," Leigh whispered. "We are here for Paige." "Ah," I grunted. Paige stirred next to me, rolled onto her back, and smiled at the newcomers. "We won't need you tonight," Paige assured me. "This is all-girl." "I see; I need to go back to campus and spank Barbie Lynn, Opal, and Brandi's bottoms until they glow red," I growled. They had turned Paige onto the whole lesbian orgy theme. "Hold on," I begged the girls as they began stripping. I rapidly moved to the closet, pulled down two comforters and two pillows for Iona and I to use as a bed. I set things out and Iona gave me one of those sleepy, sweet, innocent smiles and joined me on the floor, a comforter as a mattress and the other as a cover. I quickly became obvious to me that the object of Leigh, Paris, Ricky's and Paige's fun wasn't to have intercourse with one another but to drive me nuts. It wasn't ego talking here; statistically, an ass, calf, or grinning head pops over the same side of bed you are on only so many times before it becomes enemy action. It was working too; I was rock hard and sleep was escaping me. Sadly, fate intervened, to my detriment. In movies you often see couples roll out of bed, say 'ow,' then go back to passionate love-making. Paris came off the bed with a squeak; me, I felt a stomach-churning pain and a soundless scream escaped my lips. Paris' knee had come straight down on my nuts and impacted them into the hardwood floor with only a thin quilt providing any absorption. Paris' playful grin and giggle turned into fear as she saw my face. "Zane?" she whispered, "Sorry?" "Zane, are you okay?" Iona inquired at my side. Paris backed off me, allowing me to wheeze and roll over in a ball facing Iona. Iona cradled me in her arms. "Zane, what's wrong?" she worried. I wasn't articulate at the moment but Paris was. "Oh, God," she gasped. "I landed on his nuts." Paige and Leigh immediately poked their heads over the bed, appearing in my peripheral vision. I heard Ricky padding around from the other side of the bed. "Damn it," Leigh moaned. "Now what are we going to do?" "How about show a little sympathy?" Iona grumped at the others. I know her heart was in the right place but pulling me tight to her bosom with a nipple resting on my upper lip didn't do my damaged genitalia any good. There was a light, coastal breeze off Madagascar calling for my cock to get hard once again and damn me if it wasn't answering. The resulting pain was describable, similar to having my testicles used by an 800 pound gorilla to sink the cue ball on a Carom billiards table. And damn if that bastard wasn't determined to get it done no matter how many attempts it took. Next time some psychopath stares me dead in the eyes and asks if I've ever prayed for death, I can match his gaze and say 'Hell yes.' "Leigh, get some ice," Paige whispered. "Paris, go to the bathroom down the hall and get some ibuprofen and salve. Iona, help me get him back on the bed." The girls hurried off quietly, for which I was thankful. I was equally thankful that Iona and Paige were so gentle in moving me off the floor and onto the bed, and yes, I hammed it up a bit. Once the rush of taking charge of events passed, Paige began to flash me guilty looks. This was definitely her plan and she'd miscalculated the body motion dynamics of three women playing sex games on a queen-sized bed. "I, I apologize," Paige admitted. "This was my fault." I was somewhat more than stunned. "Okay," I gasped. "Flesh heals but memories are forever." "That means you are going to get me for this," Paige realized. "I'd buy a seat cushion if I were you, Ms. Spanky-bottoms," I tried to joke, but the pain got in the way of my laughter. Paris padded back in with a pill bottle, a foil tube, and a glass of water. She handed the pill bottle to Paige and the water to Iona. When Paris started unscrewing the top to the salve, things became difficult. "Paris," Iona grumbled, "why do you get to put the cream on his balls? It was your knee that caused his pain." "I know," Paris whimpered, "and I want to make it up to him." Paige popped the pill cap and handed me two ibuprofen; Iona propped me up. I took the pills and she put the water to my lips. "I'll take care of it," Iona insisted. "My plan, my fault, I'll take care of it," Paige countered. "Take care of what?" Leigh panted as she slipped into my bedroom with a bowl of ice. "Massaging Zane's poor crushed nuts," Ricky murmured. "If I've hurt him permanently, I'll never forgive myself," Paris moaned piteously. Was she more afraid of my promise to get her back or the other ladies' retaliation for the maiming I'd gone through? "I said I would take care of it," Paige insisted. "No, I think I will take care of it, if no one minds," I ground out. The implication was that if they didn't let me medicate my massive melons of masculine might, I'd come after them all, in thirty or so minutes when I could freely move once again. It took me a second to realize that no one was arguing with me. "Ricky, could you please get a damp hand-towel from the bathroom," Iona requested. Ricky looked confused so Iona added, "We can't put the ice cubes directly on his scrotum unless we really do want to take him to the emergency room." "Oops, sorry," Ricky sounded embarrassed. "That makes sense. I'll be right back." When Ricky left, Paige and Iona reclined on either side of me. "Hold on," I requested. "I'd like to give Paris a hug." Iona scooted first, letting Paris crawl on all fours over my body. I gave her a kiss with as much strength as I could exert. "I," she mumbled. "We were playing a game and it was an accident. I already feel somewhat better," I assured her. "Besides, I'm pretty sure I have yet to fuck you to orgasm and that's not a challenge my cock takes lightly." Paris wept and collapsed onto my chest. I lay back, head on a pillow, so I could stroke Paris' hair. When Ricky returned I struggled around Paris to kiss her and Leigh as well. I also took the opportunity to coat my scrotum with the salve, which instantly cooled my pain, then started heating damaged parts up. Leigh applied the towel holding the ice gently to balance out the sensations. We hugged, confirmed our date for Saturday night, and parted ways. Iona, Paige, and I returned to the bed and tried to get back to sleep. This time we kept our limbs to ourselves, though we remained close. I waited a while before surrendering to my dreams. A decision was reached internally that the next time I took Iona out for a quiet weekend, I would have to make it somewhere off the beaten path, somewhere in Appalachia no doubt. Iona gave me a precious, sleepy smile as I climbed out of bed in the morning. I looked at her heavy eyes, questioning her intent, when she pulled my pillow into her chest and drifted off into slumber once more. Paige was dead to the world, undoubtedly wrapped up in the remorseless rest of the Damned. I was able to dress uninterrupted and glide downstairs to find Jill already up and puttering around. I was about to find out what she had heard last night. "Good morning, Zane. Are you feeling better?" Jill asked. "Feeling better?" I questioned. "Your, you know, down there, are you feeling better?" she clarified somewhat. I imagine my jaw dropped because she looked at me with an obvious amusement. "How did you know?" I finally responded. "Oh, Iona came to my room last night and explained the situation as well as apologizing for the disruption," Aunt Jill explained. "She's a very forthright and honest young lady, and she doesn't currently have a fianc either." "What, whoa, wait a second, Jill," I stammered. Things were going way too fast for me. "How is it you are okay with two girls sleeping in my bedroom and three more coming over when three months ago we couldn't even discuss sex at all and its only place was in the marriage bed? What happened that I missed?" "Zane," Jill sighed patiently, "when God closes one door he opens another. I had to accept that my life with Tim was over and I had to move forward with my life with you. That means I am going to get more mileage out of counseling you as opposed to dictating abstinence." "And you have this epiphany after you burn all the stuff I brought back from Thailand," I groaned. "We both did things we probably regret," she reasoned. "You've been talking to Iona, or more likely, Iona's been calling you," I began piecing it together. "After you told me about what those girls were making you do, like crawl around on your knees, I tried to get some of your classmates to tell me what was really going on," Jill related. "Iona was the only one who would talk to me and she and I have communicated pretty regularly since then," Jill finished. "She's a truly sweet girl and I think you two make a cute couple." In case you are wondering, there is no good response to that statement. "She tells me you are interested in that 'Christina' girl. She's, elegant," which was Jill's way of saying Christina wasn't a 'humble Christian girl' like Iona. Something in that train of thought made me put a few other faces to the descriptor 'elegant'. "Is that why you didn't like Mom, Dad, and, well, was Uncle Tim snobby as well, elegant?" I mused. Jill stopped looking in the fridge were she was figuring out what we'd be having for breakfast. "Yes," Jill said quietly. Tim hadn't wanted to marry Jill; he'd wanted to marry Jill's older sister, Kathryn. Jill matched herself against Mom, the free spirit, and Dad, the joker, who were both sophisticated Devil-May-Care people born of wealth and privilege. In a way, Tim was from the same background, except that he ended up arrogant and emotionally distant. Of course, Tim had to grow up with Granddad, who was a real peach, and my Dad, who was always larger than life, always doing whatever task their father put before him and always going one step beyond. Worse, Dad always had the courage to be himself. Dad was the brilliant rebel, the Prodigal Son who was always welcomed back home; Tim was the plodding workhorse. The best example of this was the first time each of them ran away from home. Tim ran away to the tree house in the backyard at the house in Wyoming. The first time Dad ran away, he ended up in Hawaii. When the FBI caught him, he was working in a Japanese restaurant, stock-piling Australian dollars, and had a map of the Great Barrier Reef. Now that I think of it, I must get my nuttiness from Dad. "Jill, I'm sorry Tim wasn't the husband you deserved," I told her softly. I rested a hand on her shoulder and she backed into me. I wrapped my arms around her from behind. "Thank you, Zane," she told me in a soft voice. She looked out of the window over the sink for a few seconds. "Do you think we should get a pool?" Jill broke the silence. Huh? "Who are you and what have you done with my Aunt Jill?" I teased her. It took a second for Jill to get it but when she did, she laughed. "Wait," she teased back, "would I be a clone, an alien, or, what were those things I heard about, oh, pod-people?" "I think you are the Pink Power Ranger," Paige snickered from my elbow where she had materialized mysteriously from the ether. Jill squeaked and spun around while I was busy putting my heart back in my chest. Jill struggled out of my arms, blushed, and went back to the fridge. "Did I interrupt something?" "Yes; my desire to live a longer life," I coughed. "Now that we have the useless pleasantries out of the way, what I really want to know is if all the equipment is in working order," Paige smirked. I thought of a smarmy reply, an angry reply, and even ignoring her, but another idea won out. "Hey, Babe," I whispered in a husky voice to Paige as I stepped into body contact with her, "it hurts a little right now but thanks for asking. I'm glad you are watching out for me." I drew a line with right hand along her collarbone and shoulder to her neck and finally circling her ear. "Oh," Paige gulped. Her eyes grew wide. "Of course, Zane. I want to watch out for you, I care." I let my arms drape around her and linked them up at the small of her back, pulling her tight to me. Paige slipped her arms beneath me and did likewise, with the added gesture of placing her ear to my chest. Iona slipped into the kitchen as she did so. She gave me a cute wave, side-stepped us, and went to help Jill. I figured from Iona's actions that she was going to keep Jill busy getting the four of us breakfast, so I took Paige's right hand in my left and led her out into the hall. As I headed for the porch in the back, someone came through the front door, attempting to be stealthy. It was Leigh; I'd clearly caught her doing something wrong. "Yes?" I questioned. She looked to Paige then back to me. "I forgot to return your keys," Leigh evaded. "What are you doing with my keys?" I sounded a bit cross. Paige squeezed my hand tightly, expressing her own tension. "Paige gave them to me to use last night," Leigh gulped. "You are hopeless as a conspirator," Paige growled at Leigh. I took a deep breath instead. I was going to have as little stress in my morning as possible. "Please give them to Iona in the kitchen, Leigh," I sighed. A quick look to Paige showed her that I wasn't angry so she didn't resist as I resumed our journey. Out on the porch I took a large, cushioned, low-swung wooden chair and sat down. "It's cold out here," Paige shivered. I responded by pulling her into my lap. It took her a moment to figure out what to do with herself. She settled on sitting sideways with her left arm over my shoulder and her head laying on top of it. It took twenty-five minutes for Iona to come out and get us. "Breakfast," Iona said. I looked at her curiously, trying to judge how she was taking the loss of the time promised to her this weekend. She winked and went back inside so I guessed everything was okay and our weekend postponed. "Do you want to go inside?" I gently inquired of Paige. "Two more minutes," she whispered. I kissed her on the head and listened to the breeze in the leaves, the birds chatting in the trees, and her breath on my neck. Slowly her head rose after the two minutes had passed and she was staring at me, or rather at the side of my head. "Yes?" I asked, as I turned and looked into her eyes. "You are so dumb," she whispered. Paige kissed me with a tenderness that bespoke a depth of passion that I had not fully realized. "I wouldn't trade this moment for anything in the world," I breathed back. "I would have been better off if I had turned away that very first day I saw you," she got around to responding. I knew she was saying that she could come up with no quick strategy for getting Christina out of the way and that perplexed her. I had to do something. "Don't forget to get that seat cushion," I joked. She seemed a bit cross, then grinned. "If I let you do something else to my bottom will you forgive me?" she teased me with a sensual ass wiggle. "Really?" I perked up. Paige wouldn't consider anal sex before now, though I was all for it. "No!" she giggled. Paige leapt off my lap and raced inside. I made a grab for Paige with no intent of ensnaring her, she was having too much fun being pursued, and pursue I did. "Help me!" Paige squealed. "Help me; he's trying to get my bottom!" So much for any sense of decorum, I sighed. Paige made it to the dining room and quickly was using Leigh as a shield. Jill looked at me quizzically while Iona gave a weary sigh and looked heavenward for guidance. "So, Leigh, are you joining us for breakfast?" I obfuscated the crisis. "Yes," Leigh hesitated. "Your Aunt Jill is thanking me for finding your keys." "If that is okay with you, Zane?" Jill demurred. Huh, and by that I mean, since when has my opinion in this household been sought or even obeyed? "If it pleases you, Jill, I wouldn't mind eating Leigh", I had a slip of the tongue, "I mean eating with Leigh." Leigh's eyes sparkled and Jill totally missed the implication (I assumed because 'eat' a girl made no sense to her sexually repressed mind.) Iona gave my arm a light slap. "Have a seat, Leigh," Jill smiled in a way I wasn't familiar with; it was almost like she was content. The resulting meal of country ham, grits, and cantaloupe was simple but satisfying. We were all hot, sweaty, and laboring for breath. Had we been in bed and undressed, the situation would have been perfect. Instead, we were in my workout room, working out. I had allowed an hour to digest our meal but now we were finishing my daily physical regimen. Paige and Leigh were on their backs, staring at the ceiling and cursing the fact that I was finishing up my final exercise. Iona was on her stomach on the mat next to me, moaning softly. I seriously considered insisting that Paige and Iona take up a sport. Leigh was another story, but I'm sure I could get Tawny, her sorority president, to get her to do something strenuous, that didn't involve me and sex. "I have given up any hope of ever fucking you to death, Leigh panted as she looked my way. "Thanks," I grinned back. "Without the help of several sisters," Leigh gasped as Paige lazily smacked her on the stomach, "to wear you down first. I don't know how Barbie Lynn can walk after those marathon sessions with you." "It usually involves screaming out to God multiple times and a long nap afterwards," Iona groaned. "So," Leigh sat up, "have either of you," "Hammered me through the sheets, and I swear I blacked out as I came," Paige boasted wearily. "Umm," Leigh purred, "good memories." Have I left the room? Should I hand out customer satisfaction surveys? "That night was fantastic, wasn't it?" Iona sighed. "Three damn orgasms I'll never forget, and then there was Rio and her devilish fingers," Leigh murmured happily. "Wait! Iona, you and Zane, Rio too?" Paige propped herself up. "He was a very gentle gentleman," Iona declared. "Oh," taunted Leigh to Iona, "I recall you doing quite a savage dance on the tip of his tongue." Iona blushed and Paige gawked. "So that three-way with you and Barbie Lynn wasn't your first time, well, what do you know?" Paige mused. "All this physical stress has me thirsty," Leigh stated. "Yes, I think a protein drink is in order," Paige agreed, and winked at me. "Oh, hell no!" I defended myself. "Me, no sex weekend, remember?" "But, Zane," Iona rolled over and batted her eyelashes at me, "it was so sweet and salty." "Iona," I nearly wept. "I apologize, Zane," Iona pouted. "I was only teasing." "I can always hope to soak up some of that sexual energy at 12:01 Sunday night," Paige sighed. "Nope, sorry, going out with Heaven Sunday night," I informed them. "Oh, pooh," Iona grumped. "She'll drain him alright." "Is Heaven really that good?" Leigh seemed curious. "Let's not have this discussion," I stood up. I was ignored of course. "Oh, he goes at her five, six, seven times a night," Iona stated. "She walks funny the next day too." "How come there is never any footage of them together?" Leigh persisted. "You would think with that much sexuality and the howling she made from our towel closet at the party that there would be something on his site." "I am not going to be part of this discussion," I repeated as I made for the door. "Now I'm taking a shower." For a group of girls who couldn't stand a minute ago, they clearly were capable of nearly killing me as they stampeded for the shower, women. Before Iona and I got in, I held her back by the arm. "Five, six, seven times, walks funny the next morning, I'm sure Heaven will like that," I whispered. "I thought a little embellishment couldn't hurt," Iona smiled with an earnestly pure face. She knew Heaven's nature and would help conceal it until Heaven decided it was no longer necessary; Iona was that kind of best friend. "Do you ever get tired picking up after my shipwrecks?" I had to ask. "Come on, Zane," Paige called from inside the shower as the water cascaded down on her and Leigh. I decided that keeping them occupied was my best bet to keep the volume down. As I pulled the curtain aside, I caught a glimpse of Iona behind me, shaking her head 'No'. Undercover  Underage Willa was waiting for Valarie and I when we arrived. She had strategically placed her bike at a break between the groups of hotel units so she could quickly duck out of sight. I had no desire to do anything stupid like get in a fight. She rested on the seat of her ride. I was following Val's advice so I pulled up some distance away and kept to the middle of the parking lot because you never knew what could come popping out a door. I approached alone, again, I didn't want to freak Willa out any more than she already was. "I've got a line on those IDs," she greeted me. I'd asked her for some fake IDs so me and some of the girls could get into clubs. "Yeah," I said deadpan, "I'm sure you did." She keyed on my mood but didn't outwardly react. How should I handle this? "Willa, you are an undercover cop," I sighed. "I don't know who you are with and I don't care. I don't want to cause you trouble, I simply want a favor." Willa rocked off her ride and took a few steps toward me. "Asshole," she growled, "that isn't funny. I ought to fucking slap you like the punk-ass bitch you are." "You won't, you are a cop and that's still assault because I'm not threatening you or threatening to blow your cover so that your life would be at risk," I related. Seeing Willa's consternation, I explained. "Valarie has been through this a time or two." "Zane, I'm not a cop and I'm not kicking your ass because you are a cute guy, but stop screwing with me," Willa changed up her defense. "Fine," I shrugged. "I'm going to have a talk with Belle. I'm sure she will believe me. I felt I owed you a chance because you are a law enforcement officer and you are risking your life for me, the general public." "Don't go to Belle," Willa reached out and put an arm on my bicep. "It doesn't matter that your idea is a load of crap; Belle will tell Deacon and then I'm screwed." "Willa, you can walk away from this situation whenever you want," I told her. "Belle can't. This is her life and I'd prefer she not die living it." "Zane, you hadn't even met her before Thursday night." she groused. "That's pretty much what I said," Valarie finally chimed in. "I'm only here because Zane doesn't know anyone else who could be relied on to keep their mouth shut." "You don't believe this crap about me being a Fed, do you?" Willa joked. "Absolutely," Valarie said without hesitation. "Zane is crazy but he's spot-on when dealing with women. Case in point: Zane took that little fluff with him to the bathroom while peeling off Rio's girlfriend, a black belt in Karate, to guard me. He knew he would get you bitches to give Rio up, though he didn't have a plan going in. If he tells me you are a cop, you are a cop." I clearly had Willa flummoxed. After a minute in silence I shook off Willa's hand and turned for my car. I stopped when I had the door open. "I'm going to see Belle at the Fallout Shelter tonight," I said. "If you do something to stop me, I'll make sure Tara knows, and while she and Belle have problems, they are twins and she won't let her sister do serious time." "I'm not confessing to anything but I think there is something you should know. Deacon Baker served with Belle's husband and brother-in-law. Her brother-in-law ran the Warlords chapter but he and his brother got caught up in an ATF sting. They wrapped up Belle's husband but before they could grab the brother, who could tie up the whole criminal enterprise, he vanished. He was last seen with Deacon," Willa explained. "Deacon didn't wait around to see if the guy would stay loyal; he removed the threat," Willa added. "If he thinks I'm a threat, he'll have me removed too." "Cry me a river," Valarie rolled her eyes. "You are sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." "I'm not a damn cop," Willa snarled. "Where are you from?" I asked Willa. I caught her off-guard but she snapped back soon enough. "Tampa Bay, Florida," she shot off. "Nope. I think you are from Wisconsin or Minnesota, it's your skin complexion and the way you roll some of your consonants off your tongue and lips," I said. Willa's eyes narrowed. Now she was pissed. "Are you going to shoot us with the 9mm at your back or help Zane out'?" Valarie sounded bored. "This is totally wrong," Willa persisted. She tried to stare me down but I could see something inside give way. "I'm not saying I am an undercover cop but if I was, what would you want?" "Give Belle as much shelter as you can. Hopefully she ends up with probation," I offered. "What is in it for me?" Willa sighed. "What can I do for you?" I answered. "Do you know who took out Deacon?" Willa inquired. "Yes," I replied. I could feel Valarie's head snap behind me and her eyes bore into the back of my head. "Who was it?" Willa increased her intensity. "I would tell you but I like living without the benefit of life support," I joked. "I'd cry bullshit, damn you, except I saw the beating they took and that scares the crap out of me," Willa grumbled. "Okay, Zane, if you ever get the chance to tell me, do so." "Deal," I agreed. "Great; we are all friends," Valarie stated sarcastically. "Now fuck his face, suck his cock, and we can get going; I have to eat dinner with my sister, Dad, and the cunt he married." "What?" I glared at Valarie. "No way!" Willa declared. "Listen, bitch, you are going to need to describe what it feels like on your tongue from the ball-sack to the tip of his cock," Valarie lectured. "I've seen a video," Willa countered. "And you are such a bang-up storyteller that the 18-year old boy genius ID'd you in two minutes, or have you missed the last ten minutes of your life?" Valarie mocked her. "He seems to be the exception," Willa noted. "The average girl that attracts Zane's attention can do calculus in her head, and the one who can't is his family," Valarie responded. "Now consider his interest in Belle; she's probably a poor girl raised in a college town. That means she could have gone to college but was already soured on the whole establishment idea by a string of college fuck wads. Her sister went on to become a Law-dog that busts UV assholes all day long; Belle became an ass-kicker who flaunts her body at a bar frequented by the very higher education types that screwed with her in high school," Valarie continued. I wasn't sure how much of this Val was fabricating but it didn't matter. "Now she dangles her forbidden fruit in front of them, yet none ever get a taste, am I wrong?" Valarie queried. "You see an outlaw biker and think they are too lazy or stupid to get a real job. I see someone who wants to do their own damn thing, you don't fuck with us and we don't fuck with you." "Belle is smarter than you think she is, Willa, or whoever you are. If you don't think you are fucked yet, consider this: When was the last time Belle gave a college guy the time of day, much less walked one out of a beat-down dictated by her chapter president?" Valarie smirked. "Zane had me fighting side-by-side with him against half of the FFU faculty and students so I can attest to his peculiar form of magic." "Fuck," Willa growled. "Now, get on your knees and blow him so we can all go about our business," Valarie rumbled back. "I'm still in the midst of a no-sex weekend so I'm going to say 'No'," I intervened. "Can't we just shake and part as friends?" Willa tried. "At least kiss him," Valarie suggested. "Val, stop it. We have some level of understanding and that's good enough for now," I told her. I was checking on Valarie's okay so I only saw Willa's closure at the last moment. One look into her eyes told me she was deceiving herself that this was going to be a quick kiss to get it over with. Our lips met and my hands found their way to her hips. I pulled her to me without trapping her. A few seconds later she broke the kiss. I could read the confusion in her eyes. Her plan was to do it and be done but her impulse was to come back again. She kissed me again but his time, her tongue caressed my lips and I let it slip in. After that, I really couldn't stop myself from kissing her back intensely. Soon my lips wandered to her cheeks, chin, and neck before nibbling on an ear until she moaned and thrust up against my body. "Ugh, ah, fuck," Willa moaned. "It has been too damn long." I rotated us around, pressing Willa's back against my car. I lowered my body down Willa's, nibbling and tickling with my tongue as I did so until I was chewing on the top of her low-cut t-shirt. "You are not happily married, are you?" I inquired between a tongue stroke and some suction. "Umm, ah, no." she replied. "Why do you ask?" "I don't want you to do something you'll regret," I answered before working my way back up her throat. Willa lolled her head back, extending her throat for my attention. "Nope," she gulped with sexual tension, "no one at all." That was my cue to work with both hands to pull her shirt out of her jeans. That done, I let my fingers roam under the shirt and caress the flesh of her stomach. "Oh, stop that, no, wait, don't stop, yessss," Willa moaned. When her shirt was high enough, I began working over her tender flesh. She was clearly getting into it but I wanted more from her. I popped the button on her jeans and unzipped them. Willa's underwear was appropriately lacy. I pulled the panties down as I peeled the jeans open until I could make out her finely trimmed landing strip. I kissed along the line from her cunt fur to her hip bringing forth a hearty moan of pleasurable release. My fingers made small circles back to her ass, squeezing both cheeks and rubbing them together. Willa was stroking the top of my head and lightly yanking on my hair. I took that to be a positive endorsement of my efforts so far. When I started back up her body, Willa spread her legs wide apart and coaxed me along. I got to the base of her bra; I could sense her nervousness so I stopped pushing up her shirt there and went back to her shoulder. I had just made it back to Willa's lips when Valarie cleared her throat. "Excuse me, but I do have somewhere else to be," Valarie teased us. Willa had to reorient herself. The look she gave me was somewhat accusatory but happily, it transformed into some level of understanding. "Damn, you are sexy," she purred. She rested her elbows on my shoulders and looked me over with sensuality on her lips. "I mean, you really are sexy and I want to do this again, and we didn't even have sex yet," Willa grinned. "What makes you think we are going to have sex? Don't we have a professional relationship?" I mused. Willa reacted by putting more pressure on my shoulders, then hopping up so she could put her legs around my waist. "I kinda-sorta owe you," she gave me a wicked look. "Besides, you might like it." I had to dissuade her somehow; my life had far too many complications to get this close to the Warlords right now. "I don't know, Willa. I like lots and lots of anal sex," I cautioned her. I figured that would buy me some space. "Oh," she grunted, "I love it. A big cock like yours would feel fantastic in my ass," she added with a deep pant. Wow, that backfired spectacularly. Maybe I should inform her that I've been called needle cock by women who know me well. To add insult to injury, Valarie broke out in uproarious laughter. "There you go, Tiger," Val chuckled. "That will keep her in her place. It just so happens her place is face down and ass up with you riding roundup." Willa took a deep breath, then dismounted me. She patted me on the chest and gave me one final kiss. "We need to be going," she sighed. "I'll make sure to stay in touch." Valarie and I waited behind as Willa got on her ride and drove away. Only then did Valarie give me one last jibe herself. "Dude, I swear your lips are dusted with cocaine because I've never seen women act so nuts around a normal guy," she teased. "Are you saying I'm abnormal?" I shot back. "Ha," she laughed. "I'm calling it like I see it. I'd caution you about a girl and handcuffs but you have six sets that I know of so all I can advise is dodging when they shoot at you and lawyer up the moment they read you your rights, and I'm gone." Her bike roared to life and she peeled out, leaving me to contemplate what further screw-ups I'd added to my life. Girls, all I can say in any of our defenses is that none of us had been to a college block party except Rio, and we were dumb enough to listen to her advice on what to wear and what it would be like. We didn't even know how screwed we were until we arrived at the party destination and by then, it was too late. My only excuse was that Vivian had sworn Rio and Mercy had behaved themselves last night. Of course, first we had to get the clothes we were going to wear. The salesgirls eyed us with a devilish curiosity when we filed into the chic women's boutique, the only one in town. I was getting away with jeans and a red t-shirt from a local band called "Confetti". According to Rio, girls had to dress 'rough and ready', which translated to tight leather pants, shot boots, and either halter tops or sleeveless shirts. In retrospect, I should have known that when the salesgirls began regarding me as a pimp, I'd fucked up royally. "What do you think?" Barbie Lynn came flouncing over to where I was sitting, showing off her bright yellow halter top (that wasn't much into halting anything) and buckskin pants with the prerequisite frills along the outside of each leg. "Don't those things come with a bra?" I gulped. On the grave of my Viking ancestors, I swear those two orbs were just, right there, free and mouth-wateringly delicious. "What?" Barbie pouted. "Don't you like them?" she leaned forward, pressed her boobs together, and wiggled them in front of me. "Best ever," I panted. Barbie Lynn glowed at that declaration, then turned around and presented her ass mere inches from my face. "Better than this?" she taunted. "Ah!" I cried out; my pledge was in immoral danger. I tried to get out of my chair by brushing by her tush but only managed to flip the chair over on its side with me still in it. Eyes tracked me as I struggled to stand. "It has the Zane seal of approval," Barbie Lynn addressed the room. "I'll take it." "Wait! Zane? The Zane?" One of the salesgirls inquired. Multiple girls nodded. "That would make you the girl in the shower," she directed to Barbie Lynn. "Sure thing," Barbie Lynn boasted. "You've got, stamina," the other girl blushed, "both of you." "That's where I've seen all of you before," the first girl said as she put it all together. "Except you," she pointed at Vivian. "Honestly, I was suspicious it was a porn hoax. I mean, what kind of guy scores that many hot babes?" "Umm," Rio patted Mercy's bottom, "we're hot babes." "Are you two really, actually, the second girl stammered to Rio. "You do those things?" "Do you mean is she my bitch toy? Then yes, she is," Rio answered smugly. "Mercy, lift your top." Mercy paled, gulped, but did as requested. Rio put her arms around Mercy's midsection and pulled her close, latching onto a nipple as they came together. "No!" Vivian shouted. "There will be no public displays of pornography." Rio made a lip-smacking noise as her lips released Mercy's breast. Mercy kept her shirt raised as Rio looked back to the salesgirl. "Satisfied?" Rio gloated. The girl nodded in stunned amazement and Vivian coughed as a reminder. "Mercy, you can lower your shirt now," Rio added without even looking at Mercy. "Wow, this is so weird." The first girl shook her head, then that light came on and she looked at me with amazement and amusement. "You are trying for your 'No Sex' weekend? Well, if we can't get you laid before this weekend, we aren't selling you the right clothes." "I'm counting on it," Paige smirked. Her choice was a slick black bustier and leather pants that laced up on the side. In fact, they were more lacing on the sides and less leather. I'm not saying she looked bad; I merely vowed to get a few pictures of her in the outfit for my spank bank collection, not that I have any realistic hope of spanking the monkey anytime soon. Whoa, are women I don't even know now ganging up on me? What the hell? Adelaide and Ginger, our two salesgirls, went all out to get the ladies the skimpiest outfits allowed by law. I didn't mention the occasion because that would make me feel bad about not inviting them. "So, what are you getting all dressed up, or down for?" Ginger asked innocently enough. "Oh, there is a college-student-only bloc party tonight. Zane got an invite and he's sneaking us in with him," Iona responded with the naivet of a girl who had nil knowledge of social networking or class distinction. "Oh," Ginger muttered, and cast a sideways glance to Adelaide before looking at me. "Well, Addie's husband doesn't like doing that kind of stuff," she said lamely, "and Finn, my boyfriend, has to work late anyway." She was giving me an out and I wanted to take it. Somehow this seemed to be one too many times sticking out my neck foolishly. I'd already bent my invitation by inviting my FFU crowd. I then told myself that I'd double back and invite them, on the sly. I recalled the little discussion Valarie had with Willa only a few hours ago. Yes, I could act like your standard college cock and tell the townies it was okay to come in the back door. If I did that, I could only pray Rio punched me in the face. I'd say 'kick me in the nuts' but I clearly didn't have any. "Ginger and Adelaide, we are gathering by the water tower around 9:45 before we head to the spot," I told her. "You and your guys join us there and we'll go in as a group. It is the warehouse on Hammond Street and the word is 'Comet', in case you show up later." "Oh, I'm not sure we can make it," Adelaide responded. What she was also saying was 'are you sure you know what you are doing?' "There is one condition," I added. Now the two salesgirls were suspicious. "You have to dress like the rest of them do," I motioned to my girls. "You sold these ladies these clothes so it is only fair you dress similarly." Now the two exhaled, then smiled and groaned playfully. They could hardly say no after the money they'd taken from me, my credit card, actually. If I carried that much cash and a cop searched me, I'd mistake me for a drug dealer too. "We'll see what we can do," Ginger evaded. "Oh, that won't be a problem," Opal chimed in. "Go around the store and pick out what you want; Zane will pay for it." "For the love of God, would you stop spending my money? You are as bad as Rio," I griped. "Who is trying to be worse to you than I am?" Rio sounded both offended and up to the challenge of making me even more miserable than I was. "Oh, come on, Zane," Brandi complained. "You are a gazillionaire." "You've been listening to Rio," I shot back and glared Rio's way. "It was Mercy who told me that," Brandi corrected me. I shifted my gaze to Mercy, as did Rio. "We'll talk when we get outside," Rio cautioned Mercy, who seemed decidedly uneasy. I had to hand it to Ginger and Adelaide; for ten minutes they showed constraint, and then they went bonkers. I really don't think a woman can wear a pink gossamer scarf wrapped around her chest and call it clothing but Ginger was giving it a shot. Ginger had a small chest - 32A, but her nipples were works of art. I couldn't keep quiet about them. "Ginger, if your boyfriend lets you walk around in your domicile with a top on, he's committing crimes against the male and female, worship of the female form," I blathered. Ginger blinked, and then blushed before grinning at me wickedly. "Yes?" she prodded me. I took that as an invitation to walk up, bend at the waist until I was at eye level with her chest. Her nipples swelled under my scrutiny. "Zane, if you lick or bite them, I will stomp on your foot and break some toes," Vivian warned me. I was, in my estimation, good. I leaned forward a few more inches until I could blow forcefully upon each nipple. Ginger rolled forward on the tip of her toes, thrusting her chest forward, but I retreated just in time. She fell back and I pursued with long, continuous breaths this time. Her nipples didn't come out and say 'Hi', they launched rescue flares and lit bonfires on the beaches of my desire. Ginger was moaning and whimpering as she kept trying to force physical contact while I kept frustrating her. Her thighs were working back and forth as her cunt began burning her up. "Ginger," Adelaide worried, "what about Finn?" "I know," pleaded Ginger, "but you've seen the cock on this guy and he's driving me crazy-horny, and he hasn't even touched me yet." "Friends," Adelaide insistently reminded Ginger. "All his friends are here and watching." "I'll be her friend," Brandi volunteered, though Opal hooked her waist before she could show everyone how much of a friend she wanted to be. "Oh, we don't mind," Rio remarked. "Most nights with Zane are a learning experience for all of us." "I mind," grumbled Paige. "Paige, honey, he always comes home to us," Barbie Lynn reassured Paige. "Besides, we know where he's sleeping tonight and who will be with him," Iona added. "Fine, okay," Paige decided. "Zane," she beckoned me with a 'come hither' finger curl. "Sorry, Paige," I quickly responded between puffs of air on Ginger's nipples, "I'm busy." "Zane," Paige warned me. "Paige, not now," I grumped. "Zane!" Paige became more insistent. I didn't respond so what she said next was inevitable. "Zane, bouncy, bouncy." My groan was fueled by stymied lust; I stood up and walked over to Paige. Once I was in front of her, I used both hands to brush Paige's hair off her shoulder blades. I brought my hands together at the back of her head, wrapping my left hand in her ponytail while dropping my right down her side before snaking it to the small of her back. I pulled the hair back gently, tilting her head up as I pressed my hand on the small of her back until we were rubbing against one another. I leaned in for a slow, intensive kiss which Paige intercepted by standing on her toes. Our kiss was a see-saw affair that saw our tongues roll together and our lips shifting from lingering touch to gentle caress that lasted over a minute. "What are they doing? Or more like it, what is she doing to him to make him do that?" Adelaide quizzed the ladies. "Oh, that's a game they play," Rio explained. "He pretends she's a witch who has put a spell on him and she pretends she's going to be the first Mrs. Zane Braxton." "Say those words and Zane will perform any sexual act on you that you desire," Barbie Lynn teased. "No, it doesn't work like that," Iona got out right before Ginger interrupted. "Zane, bouncy, bouncy," Ginger demanded. That earned a round of chuckles. "Sorry, I tried that too," Brandi admitted. "Apparently each girl has to find her own command phrase." "Are you okay now?" I whispered to Paige. I really had to deal with these girls going wacky around me; we had things to do before the party started. "You are worth every gold doubloon I've spent on you," she smiled back. "Um, I'm the one spending money on you," I corrected her. Paige turned half-way around, bumped me with her hip, and wiggled her ass. "As I said, you are worth every coin," she winked. Hardy-har-har. "Okay, friends and acquaintances, let's finish with our purchases," I commanded. "We've still got some ground to cover before tonight." "What else do we have to do?" groaned Vivian. "I'm getting Mercy tattooed," Rio grinned with a dire mirth. "I want a design right above the ass, both subtle and understated; I don't know if I'm going with '1-800-HoT-SLuT' or 'Nothing Under 6 inches Allowed." "No, you are not!" growled Vivian. "No way, no how. Zane?" "Vivian, Rio is yanking your chain," I calmed my guardian. "You have to understand that Rio wouldn't put anything on Mercy that she wouldn't wear herself. She definitely wouldn't put something on Mercy that Mercy couldn't live with; trust me on that." "That's right, Viv," Rio chortled. "I can't tell you how many times I've regretted having 'Eat at the Clam Shack' tattooed right below the beltway." "You don't have a tattoo there!" Vivian countered. "Someone's been peeking," Rio skewered Vivian with a shark-like grin. Iona shook her head and walked up to Vivian, presenting her phone. "Here is the design they've chosen," Iona explained. It was an intricate weaving of lines and shadows I'd been shown once before. "See, in this end is Songs of Solomon 2:16 and on the other end is a Chi Rho woven into the greater design. It clearly has Christian imagery," Iona explained. "It's" Vivian sounded surprised, "actually rather, nice looking." "What's Songs of Solomon 2:16?" Ginger inquired. "'My lover is mine and I am', it should say 'his' but I think in this case it is 'hers'," I answered. "That's sweet," Adelaide said. "You can bet it was Mercy's choice, then," Opal smirked. "No, it was Rio's idea,&quo

This week, Jake and Bob welcome Dr. Shane Owens to explore how desire, the heart, and theology work together for our good, through the lens of St. Augustine's Confessions. Dr. Owens breaks down St. Augustine's healing journey and how by understanding the desires motivating our actions, we are led into deeper communion with God. They also discuss how memories shape our view of reality, why we distrust a good God, and what the Scriptures teach us about our identity. Key Points: Our desires ultimately point us towards God Sin is a result of misdirecting our desires towards something that is not God. It is an attempt to counterfeit the beautiful Memory is dynamic, not static, and returning to our heart to examine our memories plays an important role in forming our identity and facilitating healing. St. Augustine's willingness to be vulnerable in his "Confessions" is a model for vulnerability and understanding our desires. Scripture helps us recognize true beauty and reveals our true identity There will always be a tension between our desires and satisfying those desires. Healing and maturation occurs when we listen to our desires but wait for true fulfillment in God rather than settling for counterfeits. Resources: Return to the Heart: The Biblical Spirituality of St. Augustine's Confessions by Dr. Shane Owens Dr. Owen's Instagram Bible Across America "Vice As Counterfeit Beauty" chart from Dr. Owens' book (see our website here) Dr. Owens on the Abiding Together Podcast Connect with Restore the Glory: Instagram: @restoretheglorypodcast Twitter: @RestoreGloryPod Facebook: Restore the Glory Podcast Never miss out on an episode by hitting the subscribe button right now! Help other people find the show and grow in holiness by sharing this podcast with them individually or on your social media. Thanks! Chapters: 00:00 Introduction 02:56 St. Augustine's Healing Journey 13:52 Connecting Desire, the Heart, and Theology 26:02 Every Sin is Counterfeit Beauty 35:05 Why We Distrust A Good God 43:06 Allowing Desire to Guide Even When We Aren't Satisfied 48:05 Memory Shapes How We Perceive Reality 58:05 Restoring the Glory Through Childlike Trust

On this episode, we explore why satisfied customers leave — and what it takes to turn satisfaction into lasting loyalty.Most B2B and B2C businesses assume that satisfied customers will stay. But research shows that 20 to 70% of new customers leave within their first 100 days — even when they rate their experience as "satisfactory." Drawing from examples across a wide variety of industries, our expert guests reveal the critical moments in the customer journey when satisfied customers are driven to leave, the hidden costs of customer attrition that extend beyond lost revenue, and the practical strategies that transform transactional relationships into emotional connections strong enough to keep customers coming back.Listen for the compelling insights of Joey Coleman, keynote speaker and author of Never Lose a Customer Again, and Brian Breslin, vice president of fintech and SaaS at TELUS Digital.Visit our website to learn more about TELUS Digital.

SIMPLER PODCAST WEBSITE - thefour56.org/simplersubscribe, follow & leave reviews plsHosts: Ryan Dalgliesh, Pierce Love and Micah Marianocheck out the Simpler podcast (@simplerpod) on the social platform of your choice if it's fb or instasee what's happening in our personal/disc golf/art lives @piercelove_ @micahmariano @converseandcanvasSIMPLER BIBLE - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.simplerbible.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠RYAN'S ART -  ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://converseandcanvas.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠MICAH'S SITE - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://micahmariano.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠MICAH'S WOODWORKING - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://audaxwoodworks.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠EAGLE'S WINGS - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://facebook.com/eagleswingsdiscgolf⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠THE FOUR56 CHURCH - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://theFour56.org

Renée Elise Goldsberry is on the pod and yeah no there are no typos detected this actually happened! We covered so much ground and I am still in awe of what a warm, generous, honest, and thoughtful person Renée is. This episode is *packed.* Want to hear about her album Who I Really Am and what it was like to record it over four years and how Renée put her heart and soul into it? Done! How about her new Satisfied documentary, which is a deeply personal look into originating Angelica Schuyler in Hamilton while also raising small children and realizing she didn't have to choose because YEP we covered that, too. Oh hey maybe even Girls5Eva and a deep dive into Wickie Roy's whole vibe and (some of) her best lines and why women should never apologize for being ambitious? CHECKKKKK. Did I fangirl over Documentary Now!'s genius and hilarious Original Cast Album: Co-Op and tell Renée how often that episode is brought up on this podcast because we all love it so much? I SURE DID. #thebrownandthebeige #rooned Plus! Renée beautifully unpacks the dichotomy of her experiences as the last Mimi Marquez in Rent on Broadway and first Angelica Schuyler in Hamilton on Broadway.  This really is such a fantastic conversation. We laughed, we got chills, and we made a date for ten years from now to “talk about what wonderful things have transpired.” If you think it's not on my calendar for 2035 (with a reminder set for a year before) you don't know me at all.  Renée Elise Goldsberry's website Renée Elise Goldsberry - "Who I Really Am" (Album) Renée Elise Goldsberry - "Satisfied" (Single) Renée Elise Goldsberry - "Staring" Documentary Now! Original Cast Album: Co-Op /// Gillian's Website The Hamilcast on Twitter The Hamilcast on Instagram Join the Patreon Peeps

The Stool said 4-0 was feasible with the schedule for the month, but we know how things go for Nebraska usually when all looks well…yes, they had a horrible clunker vs. the Gophers, but still won their other 3 games As this program continues to build and avoid dumb critical mistakes…how do you assess October now that it's over?   Show Sponsored by MIDWEST BANKOur Sponsors:* Check out Avocado Green Mattress: https://avocadogreenmattress.com* Check out Hims: https://hims.com/EARLYBREAK* Check out Infinite Epigenetics: https://infiniteepigenetics.com/EARLYBREAK* Check out Uncommon Goods: https://uncommongoods.com/EARLYBREAKAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Part 11 - A Song of Blessings (Psalm 1) Psalm 5:12, 84:12, 1:1 I. To Have a Blessed Life, We Must Be Separated from the World (Psalm 1:1) ● By Avoiding Sinful Wisdom Colossians 2:8 ● Blank Slide ● By Avoiding Sinful Ways Verse 1; Proverbs 23:7; Ephesians 5:11 ● By Avoiding Scornful Words Genesis 13:10 – Lot Looks Genesis 13:11 – Lot Chooses Genesis 13:12 – Lot Sits II. To Have a Blessed Life, We Must Be Saturated with the Word (Psalm 1:2) Hebrews 4:12 ● Appreciating God's Word “Delight” ● Assimilating God's Word “Meditate” ● Appropriating God's Word “Day and Night” John 13:17 III. To Have A Blessed Life, we will be Satisfied with Wonders (Psalm 1:2,3) ● We Will Be Joyful Verse 2 ● We Will Be Thoughtful Verse 2 ● We Will Be Hopeful Verse 3; Matthew 5:13 ● We Will Be Fruitful Verse 3; Philippians 1:11 ● We Will Be Beautiful Verse 3 ● We Will Be Successful Verse 3 Psalm 1:4-6

In a world that promises satisfaction through success, comfort, and achievement, Jesus offers something radically different: righteousness as a gift, not a goal. This Sunday, we'll discover how seeking God's kingdom leads to the only satisfaction that truly lasts—and why the more we're filled, the more we hunger for Jesus.

In a world that promises satisfaction through success, comfort, and achievement, Jesus offers something radically different: righteousness as a gift, not a goal. This Sunday, we'll discover how seeking God's kingdom leads to the only satisfaction that truly lasts—and why the more we're filled, the more we hunger for Jesus.

Sermon by Adel Akl from Psalm 17:15

Sermon by Adel Akl from Psalm 17:15

We would love to pray for you! Please send us your requests here. --------Thank you for listening! Your support of Joni and Friends helps make this show possible. Joni and Friends envisions a world where every person with a disability finds hope, dignity, and their place in the body of Christ. Become part of the global movement today at www.joniandfriends.org. Find more encouragement on Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, and YouTube.

Have you ever thought that simply enjoying God's presence blesses His heart? This devotional, inspired by Deuteronomy 10:8, reminds us that like the priests who offered the bread of presence, we are called not only to receive from God but to minister to Him. Through meditations on Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, we're invited to delight in who God is—not just what He gives—discovering that our joy in Him brings Him joy. Worship becomes more than duty; it becomes a shared intimacy that transforms prayer, meditation, and daily life.

Dan and Jay go off the rails with innuendo. You've been warned! Also, in your endo!

Dave Lomas teaches from Mark 12:28–33 on how the design for a whole, integrated life is found in living out the greatest commandment. Slides available at https://bit.ly/4ndHyBG

When life feels unbearable and God seems silent, where do we turn? In this message from Psalm 42–43, Pastor John invites us to pause—to be honest about our weariness, and to rediscover the hope that comes from trusting in God's steadfast love. Through stories of deep faith and real struggle, we learn how to fight for joy, anchor our souls in God's promises, and find peace even in the valley.Mission Church — www.missionlasvegas.com

Message me with comments or questionsYour body already knows how much food it needs—your job is simply to listen. In this episode, I break down one of the most powerful mindset shifts for ending emotional eating: learning to eat until satisfied, not full.You'll discover why this one change affects everything—your cravings, your energy, your sleep, and even your ability to trust yourself around food. Through my Three R's to Food Freedom framework, I'll show you how to build daily routines that reconnect you to your body's natural cues, helping you slow down, savor your meals, and stop before autopilot takes over.We'll explore how to identify satisfaction in real time, balance blood sugar for steady energy, and release the old “clean plate” mentality for good. You'll learn practical tools—like the one-bite-left practice and mid-meal check-ins—that help you retrain your brain and create calm, confident eating habits that last.If you've ever struggled with overeating or second-guessing your hunger, this episode will help you find peace at the table—and freedom beyond it.

Send us a textIn this special episode recorded live at the NeoHeart Conference 2025 in San Diego, California, Ben and Daphna sit down with Dr. Steve Abman, the Dr. John Patrick Cleary Living with Legends Keynote Address Speaker. A true leader in pediatric medicine, Dr. Abman serves as Professor of Pediatric Pulmonary Medicine, Co-Director of the Pediatric Pulmonary Hypertension Program, Director of the Pediatric Heart and Lung Center, and President of the American Pediatric Society.Through candid reflection and storytelling, Dr. Abman discusses his journey from social activism to medicine, his mentors who shaped his path, and the power of collaboration in improving outcomes for children with cardiopulmonary disease. He reminds us that the future of neonatology depends on staying curious, working together, and keeping the baby—and the family—at the center of every decision.This conversation is an inspiring reminder that science advances not just through data, but through generosity, humility, and shared purpose.

Philippians 3:12-16; Luke 9:51-62David Bailey

Philippians Philippians 3:12-16; Luke 9:51-62 David Bailey

A talk by Thanissaro Bhikkhu entitled "Happy but Not Satisfied"

Why do our best efforts to fight sin often fail? In this episode of Light + Truth, John Piper opens 2 Peter 1:3–4 to show how victory comes through deeper joy in God.

Are you striving yet satisfied — pushing forward with purpose while also feeling quietly full and pleased? That paradox is the sweet spot of sustainable success — and it's exactly what we're diving into today. In this episode, we explore Striving Satisfied through a wholistic lens. It's not about complacency; it's about blending gratitude and growth, fullness and hunger — so you can achieve without burning out. You'll learn how to: Celebrate micro wins and retrain your nervous system to register accomplishment (instead of chasing more) Shift your self-talk from “I should” to “I did” — and feel the energy difference instantly Ritualize rest with sensory pleasure breaks that nourish your creative spirit Design systems that respect delight — because structure and joy can coexist Use accountability wisely to transform good intentions into real, embodied results I also share powerful reflection questions to reframe the “yeah, but…” loop that steals satisfaction, plus two inspiring client stories showing how this practice transforms both confidence and results. Episode Mention: The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron

Download our Mobile App! iOS | Android --- Moisture seeps in a humid cave, echoing as drops fall into a hidden pool. Twilight arrives, waking a community of tiny bats. Unfurling their leathery wings, wrapped protectively during sleep, they shake off the stiffness. Chattering cheerfully, they venture into the night for food. Satisfied, they return to their safe cavern at dawn. ---