Podcasts about shhh

So we went to this distillery — Dragon's Breath? Bread? Smells like prophecy and regret. Someone read someone's diary, and BAM — AJ's maybe evil? Wait, what? Shhh, Clodagh's talking... that's Clodagh, right? Anyway, the temple's old, the whiskey's older, and fate's been barrel-aging... oh yeah you don't know about the temple... Shhh spoilers...!Wanna show us some love? Leave a review/comment/thumbs up wherever you're listening to the show!Join our ⁠⁠⁠Discord⁠⁠⁠ for more shenanigans!Are you following us on ⁠⁠⁠Twitch⁠⁠⁠? Check out our other shows!CastDungeon Master -⁠⁠⁠ Declan⁠⁠⁠Hephaesta Tinderson -⁠⁠⁠ Amber⁠⁠⁠Ivan of the Forgotten Vale -⁠⁠⁠ Sam⁠⁠⁠Fia Izzidrim -⁠⁠⁠ Louise⁠⁠⁠AJ Steele - ⁠⁠⁠Ben⁠⁠⁠Title Card Art by ⁠⁠⁠DaithiCDesign⁠⁠⁠Theme Song 'Fight for Each Other' by ⁠⁠⁠Steven Tynan⁠⁠⁠Vocals by ⁠⁠⁠Abe Soare⁠⁠⁠Get in touch with us: ⁠⁠⁠d8dungeon@gmail.com

Mitchell Frederick - Dame el Ritmo (Original Mix) Mmm... Ssshhh... Dame el ritmo... Don't talk. Feel me... Right... there. You want it? Come get it. Dame el ritmo... Mueve tu cuerpo. Mueve tu cuerpo... Feel the fire... Boom... boom... corazón. Just like that... Más fuerte... Touch without touching. Sin pensar... solo bailar. Cierra los ojos... Ven aquí... Más cerca... No pares... Te lo doy todo... Pero baila lento... You feel that? Dame el ritmo... Let it take you. Let me take control. Boom... boom... corazón. Late night... slow burn. No rules. Just rhythm. Ahora... Dámelo... Shhh... Don't stop now... Dame el ritmo... Again... And again... And again...

Mitchell Frederick - Boom Boom Corazón (Original Mix) Mmm... ¿Lo sientes? This night... is just for you. No talking… Just dance with me.

A WW2 fantasy: a spy and a pilot take refuge in each other. by PeriodPorn. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Max turned around, still half asleep, pulling my body into the half-moon of his own. We lay on a straw mattress in the loft of a barn that had been taken by the resistance here in rural France, and for modesty's sake we had retreated to either sides of it; a difficult task, now made more challenging by the pilot's movements. He took a deep inhale, his face nestled into the back of my neck, and exhaled warm breath onto my tingling skin. Now, with me in his arms, his nightmares were retreating into the dark recess of his subconscious.We had slept beside each other for four nights now. That was how long it had been since we had found each other on a backroad from the border, him separated from his grounded plane and me… well, I had kept myself separate from everything in order to remain undetected. Every night he had been wracked with awful nightmares; this was the first he had touched me in his sleep. I knew that this respite from undoubtedly horrid images should be protected, but an itch inside of me yearned for his hands, now securely fastened at my waist, to animate themselves and explore my body. He had removed his cotton undershirt to sleep better in the heat, and in the dappled moonlight of the barn I could make out the sinews beneath his bare skin. “You hardly know him”, my brain hissed to itself, cannibalistic in it's determination to stifle the urges. “And he's not even awake so he doesn't know what he's doing”- Yet, I tilted my pelvis back ever so slightly. I sighed, trying to mimic the unintentional sounds of someone asleep. The movement made my body arch back into his groin. His body seemed to instinctively tighten around me, welcoming the way the space between us vanished. I felt small, childlike inside his broad, muscular frame. I tilted my pelvis back yet again, hoping the rhythmic movement might stir some kind of consciousness into his lower half. I moaned, as if I was the one having nightmares now. His arms, once slack against my lithe torso, now stiffened. That might have done it. I continued to keep my eyes shut, gripping my arms tighter against his, as if I were protecting myself. The more I created this fiction, the more real it felt. Hadn't I been trying to make myself invisible, protecting myself from enemies this whole time? “Natalie?” He whispered, his Scottish vowels thick and low in his hoarse semi-consciousness. I waited a moment, then pretended to rouse myself. I murmured a little. “Natalie,” he said, more gently this time, “I think you're havin' a nightmare.” You're a sneaky bitch, my brain thought- but his arms were so strong, his chest so firm against my back. I hadn't felt this safe since the start of the war. I was alone then… I had been alone for years. I had used men sexually, of course… but not for my own comfort. Not for my own pleasure. Hadn't I known from the moment he smiled from beneath his RAF cap that this could be a different kind of ally? “You're having a bad dream,” he repeated softly, with a tenderness I almost couldn't bear. As if I'd known him for more than two days. As if the thought of me, my safety, and my unreachable subconscious was of the utmost importance to him. I turned in so I was facing him, curling inwards and tucking my face just below his chin. I would never admit to being frightened by daylight, but in the darkness, I permitted myself this luxury; comfort. I had been frightened for so long, one almost comes to accept it; it was a fear people who did not know wartime would never understand. One of the pilots arms wrapped around my back and scooped me up, the other wrapping underneath my neck to cradle the nape of my hairline. His fingers were coarse unlike mine which were still soft from handling weapons of a slightly different kind: transistor radios. “Shhh,” he whispered sleepily. “It's alright.” His hand was so big that whilst still cupping the back of my head, his thumb could rest against my cheek. It stroked my face calmly, sending chills from the root of my torso up my spine. My breath caught a little, suspended between us. His other arm was still draped around me, no doubt feeling the change in my body. His body stilled too; he was suddenly holding his breath as well. His thumb, however, maintained its steady rhythm. I held my breath still, willing it to edge closer towards my parted lips. And then, it did. I could feel it… His thumb was edging closer and closer towards my lips, and then dared to caress them, catching slowly against my full lower lip as it did. The moment his thumb caught my lower lip, I exhaled, a light breeze brushing against his skin. His thumb lingered there, against the warm and wet skin inside. He was waiting for me to protest, to push him away. The silence between us felt electric. I moved one of my legs to negotiate the space between his, hooking myself around him so that our bodies could press together. With my chest now against his, I could feel the air between us thudding with quickening heartbeats. He did not remove his thumb from the entrance of my mouth. He was waiting for me to give him a signal to proceed. I gently brought his thumb between my teeth. It felt both coquettish and primal; the feeling of something fragile, soft, ready to be destroyed. Yet, his thumb retreated. I might have lost hope there, embarrassed and rejected, were it not for the feeling of his thrust pulsating against my lap. An unmistakable reaction of longing. I should not have worried; his retreating thumb dragged down my chin and neck slowly, leaving a slightly damp residue behind it that cooled quickly in the night air. Simultaneously his other arm brought me even closer to him, his breathing quickening. “Natalie,” he whispered, betraying a deep sense of longing. I knew he wanted me, then. He wanted me quite desperately. But I did not want it to be quick. I wanted it to be slow. I brought my free arm up behind his head so I could drag my fingers from the back of his head to the back of his neck, bringing my face up to meet his. Would he take it from me greedily, as if I were some street woman in a foreign city, an anonymous body that he could hide inside until his grief had retreated? He seemed to sense this. Instead of greedily launching at my mouth, he held me there. “I wish I could see your eyes,” he whispered urgently. “Your eyes…” “You can,” I promised him. “What do you see?” I was terrified of his answer, because I knew that so many men had answers readily prepared for questions like this; it didn't matter who was looking at them or who was asking. Intimacy was a game, a war they could win on foreign shores before returning to their squadrons to regale their mates with their conquests. I felt too deeply for that. Losing this moment to a parlour story meant for male amusement would be too painful. He was silent. Then, in a voice of resignation and sadness: “I saw a lot of pain.” There was no pretence, no air of manipulation. There was familiarity, however; a sense that he recognised it in me because he felt it himself. I held his neck here, hit with a wave of grief for us both. I would have pulled him so close that his body merged with mine, if I could. But this hand released him as soon as it held him there, tracing down the skin of his spine until I could pull it inwards towards our stomachs and continue this unbroken line, ever so slowly, around his side and drag it upwards between us against his almost hairless chest. I felt his heart beating there. His mast continued to throb against me, but it did not cheapen the moment. It intensified it. I knew he wanted me, and that it took everything in him to restrain himself… because he needed me more than he wanted me. He needed me to be here, in whatever way, and he wouldn't do anything to risk it being taken away. “I need you too.” I breathed. He could have me in whatever way he wanted… if that's what he really wanted. I could feel his face tilting towards mine, slowly, until his breath whispered against my mouth. Our lips were so close, his breath sweet and warm, smelling of the mead we'd drank with the resistance soldiers downstairs. His lips were soft against mine. I realised then that I had imagined this moment every time I looked at them, plump and full. His wrested with mine, not trying to part them but just enjoying the way they melted into each other. I was hungrier, it seemed; I gently parted his, daring my tongue to trace within just has his thumb had done only a few moments before. He drank me in. His warm tongue wrapped against mine, sending tingles through every nerve ending available, making me hungrier and hungrier. He finally broke his stillness. He gave in to his urges and grasped my body firmly. He positioned me on top of him as if I weighed nothing. My groin could not be separated from his, seeking heat and pressure, pressing against his shaft and his lower abdomen as I righted myself on top of him. Electricity surged inside of me, moving me to sit up away from his intensifying kiss so that I could straighten my arms and brace them on either side of his shoulders to slowly rock the seat of my body against him. I was abreast a wild horse, willing it to pursue. He groaned quietly, rock-hard beneath me. I continued to work him, wanting to feed the desire I knew was raging inside of him. It became too much to bear; he reached up with one hand and secured it behind my neck, bringing us together so that he could kiss me again, more urgently and messily this time. I slipped one of my arms down against his chest again, wanting to coax the creature that was aching for mine. He almost snarled inside my mouth as he grabbed that same hand and used his body to deftly spin me to my back, pinning both arms up on either side of my head. I exhaled through a smile, exhilarated by his careful control of my body. Now he had me pinned, and with a masterful restraint pulled his crotch away from mine so he could move quickly down towards my base. It was yearning for touch. I found myself nervous; he may not do this for women, I thought. A lot of men don't. Yet his fingers must have found the hem of my silk nightgown resting at my thighs because I could feel the roughness of his touch grazing upwards against my sensitive, soft skin towards my mound. I was not wearing undergarments. The pair I used were precious and currently drying somewhere… does he think me a whore, I worried- He seemed to sense my mind fretting because one of his hands felt down the side of my body slowly, taking in my shape. He was soothing me, willing me to relax. His caress was deliberate, careful, finishing at the side of my body where he gripped my hip, his fingers sinking into my soft arse cheeks. He audibly groaned here, starved for the softness of a woman's body. “Fuck,” he breathed, using his free hand to gently part my knees even further and position himself at the entrance. His head remained above water, however, and I could feel his eyes searching for mine through the dark. “Please…” he begged gruffly. “Please,” I exhaled urgently, bucking my hips upwards in an attempt to bring him closer to me. I felt his dark hair, dark brown and curly in the daylight, tickle the sensitive inner side of my thighs, signalling his descent into heaven. “Slowly,” I begged, my body already wired with so much desire that I felt I might break if he touched me too quickly, or too hard. He slowly kissed along the parting of my lips. This was almost too much; my inhales were short and sharp. He finally slid his warm, wet tongue between the folds ever so slightly, barely reaching the pink beneath that was slickening in preparedness. I groaned now, all other thoughts fleeing my body in anticipation for the moment his tongue would properly enter. When it did, I felt a rush of warmth cascade from my feet upwards. I could hear the sound of his wet tongue against my own moisture, lapping upwards towards the golden crown at the top. He was slow and deliberate, without feeling mechanical or procedural; He was listening to my breath, instructed by the movement and response of my body. I made a guttural sound as he reached the sacred place, his tongue flicking against it gently before massaging around its edges- “Yes,” I gasped, “like that-” But he didn't need my help, because my body was riding against his face, helping him reach the momentum it needed. His tongue quickened its pace, sensing that I was riding towards something that was fast approaching- “I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming” I chanted breathlessly, the ebbing of warmth in every part of my body concentrating into an intense beam that was crescendo-ing into its peak. It had been so long since I felt this. His tongue, darting deftly, was only seconds away from that final stroke. When it finally came, the crest of the wave brought a spilling sensation that had my legs quivering around the sides of his head. Then, my body felt as though it had melted away entirely. He hungrily kissed upwards from my abdomen, resurfacing to kiss my mouth with stubble wet from my release. “Max,” I whispered. I was panting slightly, my eyes still rolling backwards towards the darkness above. I was immobilised. “I'm sorry, I…” “No,” he stopped me. He didn't care if I returned the favour; he was too busy kissing my body lightly, devouring every inch he could. I must have tasted salty with sweat. I smiled, willing myself to return to reality. I reached for his hand, guiding it up towards my breast. His body came with it, softly pressing against mine. I could feel his member was already stiff – it seemed to have only strengthened in the time since I'd last felt it in my hand – but with the mention of my soft breasts, it quivered against my abdomen. His fingers started to gently coax the nipple, sending goosebumps down my torso. He was not like other boys, who grabbed and pinched. He took it into his mouth, sucking ever so gently. My other hand felt for him, moving from the base towards the tip ever so gently. “I could do this to you all night,” he promised me quietly- “No.” It was my turn to stop him. My strength had returned. I slunk downwards towards his cotton pants, bulging against what was within. I pulled them downwards, feeling his legs start to kick them away. We had showered hours before for the first time in months; his body smelled faintly sweet, a musk of summer sweat just starting to descend upon both of us. I kissed the inner sides of his thighs and up around his navel, wanting to draw out this moment for him. I moved unpredictably towards his erection, trusting that in the darkness he was relying on the sensation of touch alone. When I finally and slowly licked the length of his shaft, I heard him gasp in the darkness above me. “Natalie,” he exhaled with something that sounded almost like awe. I continued to slick his shaft with my tongue, working my way up towards the tip carefully, only tempering it ever so delicately. I needed to take it all into my mouth, though; I did, working up and down slowly, creating pressure with my lips as I went. “Ugh,” he groaned, “Oh, Jesus…” I worked him at the same slow pace, feeling his member throb with the base of my tongue. He was writhing beneath me on the bed, his hands grasping for my hair, my arm. The slowness was excruciating- So I replaced the pressure of my mouth with the pressure of my hand, gently increasing the pace. He was in ecstasy, laughing amidst the groans of delight. “You're amazing”, he exhaled in disbelief. I could hear his smile. I would have continued for as long as he would have me, but before long he was begging. “I need to be inside you.” I was quick to oblige, my opening aching with the promise of him. I straddled him once more, one hand bracing gently against his firm abdomen while the other hand guided him inside. There was little resistance; I was already so wet, enveloping him as if we had been designed to take each other and each other alone. He was the one who wanted to go slowly now, starting to buck his own hips up underneath me to feel me tighten around him… but I wanted to stay in control now, in the same way he had taken charge of me. I rocked forwards and back on him, riding him so that my pussy moved up and then back down to the base of his shaft with every stride. It felt as if he were entering me for the first time, over and over. I pinned his arms down, letting him relax into the feeling of being taken. He sat up abruptly, laughing in delight, pulling my torso towards his so that he could position me to be leaning back a little. He held me there easily with one arm, using his strength now to push upwards inside of me, pulsing harder and faster. I groaned, feeling him start to hit the wall of my cervix and hint at that inner spot, a different kind of dulled pleasure starting to awaken. I gripped my legs around the back of his torso to intensify it. He responded by taking both arms around me and standing up, lifting me easily and turning me over onto my back, gently laying me down while still maintaining his anchor inside me. He pumped inside of me here, harder than he had before. I wanted him to. He was starting to give in to his own needs now, rather than only thinking of mine. It was not reckless, or angry; it was deliberate, controlled. He was starving, but I knew too that he would hold out as long as he could. I felt my inner centre start to glow with the promise of a different kind of climax. I was surprised. I let out a low, sustained moan and positioned my legs so that they would tuck over his shoulders. I needed him to go even deeper now. He obliged, pumping. His breath was short; I could hear he was getting closer because he was exerting more and more force in his breaths, trying desperately to hold out. But I wanted him to surrender. With my face beside his head, my soft mews of encouragement were right beside his ears. Nothing was lost on him, and every sound I made egged him on. “I want you,” I said in a low whisper. “I want you.” This was too much for him; he spluttered, his body spasming suddenly. I could feel his rod giving it's final quiver, releasing his load inside of me. This filled me with such intense satisfaction that I rode my own kind of second wave of pleasure. He sighed, falling against my breast bone and burying his head into the side of my neck. He inhaled here, holding my head in his hand, cradling it. The pressure of his body against mine felt like home. I felt safe. “Natalie…” he murmured. I don't know what followed in his mind, what he was thinking but not saying, but it didn't matter. He rolled over onto his side, stroking my face in the darkness. Accustomed to the darkness now, I could see his eyes, searching for mine. I allowed myself to blink once or twice and look up at him. I didn't want to be separated from him… but I tore myself away to clean up. The air was fresh around my body, naked of it's covering, somehow removed in the throes of ecstasy. I hoped this would bring him relief, that he could sleep now, that I would return to the bed to find him sound asleep. His body was sprawled on its back, the moonlight illuminating his gorgeous expanse of chest, muscle and smooth pale skin. I found my place beside him, trying not to disturb. But within moments, he had turned himself inward to hold me again, our bodies returned to their half moons, only now there was only skin separating us. by PeriodPorn for Literotica.

A WW2 fantasy: a spy and a pilot take refuge in each other. by PeriodPorn. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Max turned around, still half asleep, pulling my body into the half-moon of his own. We lay on a straw mattress in the loft of a barn that had been taken by the resistance here in rural France, and for modesty's sake we had retreated to either sides of it; a difficult task, now made more challenging by the pilot's movements. He took a deep inhale, his face nestled into the back of my neck, and exhaled warm breath onto my tingling skin. Now, with me in his arms, his nightmares were retreating into the dark recess of his subconscious.We had slept beside each other for four nights now. That was how long it had been since we had found each other on a backroad from the border, him separated from his grounded plane and me… well, I had kept myself separate from everything in order to remain undetected. Every night he had been wracked with awful nightmares; this was the first he had touched me in his sleep. I knew that this respite from undoubtedly horrid images should be protected, but an itch inside of me yearned for his hands, now securely fastened at my waist, to animate themselves and explore my body. He had removed his cotton undershirt to sleep better in the heat, and in the dappled moonlight of the barn I could make out the sinews beneath his bare skin. “You hardly know him”, my brain hissed to itself, cannibalistic in it's determination to stifle the urges. “And he's not even awake so he doesn't know what he's doing”- Yet, I tilted my pelvis back ever so slightly. I sighed, trying to mimic the unintentional sounds of someone asleep. The movement made my body arch back into his groin. His body seemed to instinctively tighten around me, welcoming the way the space between us vanished. I felt small, childlike inside his broad, muscular frame. I tilted my pelvis back yet again, hoping the rhythmic movement might stir some kind of consciousness into his lower half. I moaned, as if I was the one having nightmares now. His arms, once slack against my lithe torso, now stiffened. That might have done it. I continued to keep my eyes shut, gripping my arms tighter against his, as if I were protecting myself. The more I created this fiction, the more real it felt. Hadn't I been trying to make myself invisible, protecting myself from enemies this whole time? “Natalie?” He whispered, his Scottish vowels thick and low in his hoarse semi-consciousness. I waited a moment, then pretended to rouse myself. I murmured a little. “Natalie,” he said, more gently this time, “I think you're havin' a nightmare.” You're a sneaky bitch, my brain thought- but his arms were so strong, his chest so firm against my back. I hadn't felt this safe since the start of the war. I was alone then… I had been alone for years. I had used men sexually, of course… but not for my own comfort. Not for my own pleasure. Hadn't I known from the moment he smiled from beneath his RAF cap that this could be a different kind of ally? “You're having a bad dream,” he repeated softly, with a tenderness I almost couldn't bear. As if I'd known him for more than two days. As if the thought of me, my safety, and my unreachable subconscious was of the utmost importance to him. I turned in so I was facing him, curling inwards and tucking my face just below his chin. I would never admit to being frightened by daylight, but in the darkness, I permitted myself this luxury; comfort. I had been frightened for so long, one almost comes to accept it; it was a fear people who did not know wartime would never understand. One of the pilots arms wrapped around my back and scooped me up, the other wrapping underneath my neck to cradle the nape of my hairline. His fingers were coarse unlike mine which were still soft from handling weapons of a slightly different kind: transistor radios. “Shhh,” he whispered sleepily. “It's alright.” His hand was so big that whilst still cupping the back of my head, his thumb could rest against my cheek. It stroked my face calmly, sending chills from the root of my torso up my spine. My breath caught a little, suspended between us. His other arm was still draped around me, no doubt feeling the change in my body. His body stilled too; he was suddenly holding his breath as well. His thumb, however, maintained its steady rhythm. I held my breath still, willing it to edge closer towards my parted lips. And then, it did. I could feel it… His thumb was edging closer and closer towards my lips, and then dared to caress them, catching slowly against my full lower lip as it did. The moment his thumb caught my lower lip, I exhaled, a light breeze brushing against his skin. His thumb lingered there, against the warm and wet skin inside. He was waiting for me to protest, to push him away. The silence between us felt electric. I moved one of my legs to negotiate the space between his, hooking myself around him so that our bodies could press together. With my chest now against his, I could feel the air between us thudding with quickening heartbeats. He did not remove his thumb from the entrance of my mouth. He was waiting for me to give him a signal to proceed. I gently brought his thumb between my teeth. It felt both coquettish and primal; the feeling of something fragile, soft, ready to be destroyed. Yet, his thumb retreated. I might have lost hope there, embarrassed and rejected, were it not for the feeling of his thrust pulsating against my lap. An unmistakable reaction of longing. I should not have worried; his retreating thumb dragged down my chin and neck slowly, leaving a slightly damp residue behind it that cooled quickly in the night air. Simultaneously his other arm brought me even closer to him, his breathing quickening. “Natalie,” he whispered, betraying a deep sense of longing. I knew he wanted me, then. He wanted me quite desperately. But I did not want it to be quick. I wanted it to be slow. I brought my free arm up behind his head so I could drag my fingers from the back of his head to the back of his neck, bringing my face up to meet his. Would he take it from me greedily, as if I were some street woman in a foreign city, an anonymous body that he could hide inside until his grief had retreated? He seemed to sense this. Instead of greedily launching at my mouth, he held me there. “I wish I could see your eyes,” he whispered urgently. “Your eyes…” “You can,” I promised him. “What do you see?” I was terrified of his answer, because I knew that so many men had answers readily prepared for questions like this; it didn't matter who was looking at them or who was asking. Intimacy was a game, a war they could win on foreign shores before returning to their squadrons to regale their mates with their conquests. I felt too deeply for that. Losing this moment to a parlour story meant for male amusement would be too painful. He was silent. Then, in a voice of resignation and sadness: “I saw a lot of pain.” There was no pretence, no air of manipulation. There was familiarity, however; a sense that he recognised it in me because he felt it himself. I held his neck here, hit with a wave of grief for us both. I would have pulled him so close that his body merged with mine, if I could. But this hand released him as soon as it held him there, tracing down the skin of his spine until I could pull it inwards towards our stomachs and continue this unbroken line, ever so slowly, around his side and drag it upwards between us against his almost hairless chest. I felt his heart beating there. His mast continued to throb against me, but it did not cheapen the moment. It intensified it. I knew he wanted me, and that it took everything in him to restrain himself… because he needed me more than he wanted me. He needed me to be here, in whatever way, and he wouldn't do anything to risk it being taken away. “I need you too.” I breathed. He could have me in whatever way he wanted… if that's what he really wanted. I could feel his face tilting towards mine, slowly, until his breath whispered against my mouth. Our lips were so close, his breath sweet and warm, smelling of the mead we'd drank with the resistance soldiers downstairs. His lips were soft against mine. I realised then that I had imagined this moment every time I looked at them, plump and full. His wrested with mine, not trying to part them but just enjoying the way they melted into each other. I was hungrier, it seemed; I gently parted his, daring my tongue to trace within just has his thumb had done only a few moments before. He drank me in. His warm tongue wrapped against mine, sending tingles through every nerve ending available, making me hungrier and hungrier. He finally broke his stillness. He gave in to his urges and grasped my body firmly. He positioned me on top of him as if I weighed nothing. My groin could not be separated from his, seeking heat and pressure, pressing against his shaft and his lower abdomen as I righted myself on top of him. Electricity surged inside of me, moving me to sit up away from his intensifying kiss so that I could straighten my arms and brace them on either side of his shoulders to slowly rock the seat of my body against him. I was abreast a wild horse, willing it to pursue. He groaned quietly, rock-hard beneath me. I continued to work him, wanting to feed the desire I knew was raging inside of him. It became too much to bear; he reached up with one hand and secured it behind my neck, bringing us together so that he could kiss me again, more urgently and messily this time. I slipped one of my arms down against his chest again, wanting to coax the creature that was aching for mine. He almost snarled inside my mouth as he grabbed that same hand and used his body to deftly spin me to my back, pinning both arms up on either side of my head. I exhaled through a smile, exhilarated by his careful control of my body. Now he had me pinned, and with a masterful restraint pulled his crotch away from mine so he could move quickly down towards my base. It was yearning for touch. I found myself nervous; he may not do this for women, I thought. A lot of men don't. Yet his fingers must have found the hem of my silk nightgown resting at my thighs because I could feel the roughness of his touch grazing upwards against my sensitive, soft skin towards my mound. I was not wearing undergarments. The pair I used were precious and currently drying somewhere… does he think me a whore, I worried- He seemed to sense my mind fretting because one of his hands felt down the side of my body slowly, taking in my shape. He was soothing me, willing me to relax. His caress was deliberate, careful, finishing at the side of my body where he gripped my hip, his fingers sinking into my soft arse cheeks. He audibly groaned here, starved for the softness of a woman's body. “Fuck,” he breathed, using his free hand to gently part my knees even further and position himself at the entrance. His head remained above water, however, and I could feel his eyes searching for mine through the dark. “Please…” he begged gruffly. “Please,” I exhaled urgently, bucking my hips upwards in an attempt to bring him closer to me. I felt his dark hair, dark brown and curly in the daylight, tickle the sensitive inner side of my thighs, signalling his descent into heaven. “Slowly,” I begged, my body already wired with so much desire that I felt I might break if he touched me too quickly, or too hard. He slowly kissed along the parting of my lips. This was almost too much; my inhales were short and sharp. He finally slid his warm, wet tongue between the folds ever so slightly, barely reaching the pink beneath that was slickening in preparedness. I groaned now, all other thoughts fleeing my body in anticipation for the moment his tongue would properly enter. When it did, I felt a rush of warmth cascade from my feet upwards. I could hear the sound of his wet tongue against my own moisture, lapping upwards towards the golden crown at the top. He was slow and deliberate, without feeling mechanical or procedural; He was listening to my breath, instructed by the movement and response of my body. I made a guttural sound as he reached the sacred place, his tongue flicking against it gently before massaging around its edges- “Yes,” I gasped, “like that-” But he didn't need my help, because my body was riding against his face, helping him reach the momentum it needed. His tongue quickened its pace, sensing that I was riding towards something that was fast approaching- “I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming” I chanted breathlessly, the ebbing of warmth in every part of my body concentrating into an intense beam that was crescendo-ing into its peak. It had been so long since I felt this. His tongue, darting deftly, was only seconds away from that final stroke. When it finally came, the crest of the wave brought a spilling sensation that had my legs quivering around the sides of his head. Then, my body felt as though it had melted away entirely. He hungrily kissed upwards from my abdomen, resurfacing to kiss my mouth with stubble wet from my release. “Max,” I whispered. I was panting slightly, my eyes still rolling backwards towards the darkness above. I was immobilised. “I'm sorry, I…” “No,” he stopped me. He didn't care if I returned the favour; he was too busy kissing my body lightly, devouring every inch he could. I must have tasted salty with sweat. I smiled, willing myself to return to reality. I reached for his hand, guiding it up towards my breast. His body came with it, softly pressing against mine. I could feel his member was already stiff – it seemed to have only strengthened in the time since I'd last felt it in my hand – but with the mention of my soft breasts, it quivered against my abdomen. His fingers started to gently coax the nipple, sending goosebumps down my torso. He was not like other boys, who grabbed and pinched. He took it into his mouth, sucking ever so gently. My other hand felt for him, moving from the base towards the tip ever so gently. “I could do this to you all night,” he promised me quietly- “No.” It was my turn to stop him. My strength had returned. I slunk downwards towards his cotton pants, bulging against what was within. I pulled them downwards, feeling his legs start to kick them away. We had showered hours before for the first time in months; his body smelled faintly sweet, a musk of summer sweat just starting to descend upon both of us. I kissed the inner sides of his thighs and up around his navel, wanting to draw out this moment for him. I moved unpredictably towards his erection, trusting that in the darkness he was relying on the sensation of touch alone. When I finally and slowly licked the length of his shaft, I heard him gasp in the darkness above me. “Natalie,” he exhaled with something that sounded almost like awe. I continued to slick his shaft with my tongue, working my way up towards the tip carefully, only tempering it ever so delicately. I needed to take it all into my mouth, though; I did, working up and down slowly, creating pressure with my lips as I went. “Ugh,” he groaned, “Oh, Jesus…” I worked him at the same slow pace, feeling his member throb with the base of my tongue. He was writhing beneath me on the bed, his hands grasping for my hair, my arm. The slowness was excruciating- So I replaced the pressure of my mouth with the pressure of my hand, gently increasing the pace. He was in ecstasy, laughing amidst the groans of delight. “You're amazing”, he exhaled in disbelief. I could hear his smile. I would have continued for as long as he would have me, but before long he was begging. “I need to be inside you.” I was quick to oblige, my opening aching with the promise of him. I straddled him once more, one hand bracing gently against his firm abdomen while the other hand guided him inside. There was little resistance; I was already so wet, enveloping him as if we had been designed to take each other and each other alone. He was the one who wanted to go slowly now, starting to buck his own hips up underneath me to feel me tighten around him… but I wanted to stay in control now, in the same way he had taken charge of me. I rocked forwards and back on him, riding him so that my pussy moved up and then back down to the base of his shaft with every stride. It felt as if he were entering me for the first time, over and over. I pinned his arms down, letting him relax into the feeling of being taken. He sat up abruptly, laughing in delight, pulling my torso towards his so that he could position me to be leaning back a little. He held me there easily with one arm, using his strength now to push upwards inside of me, pulsing harder and faster. I groaned, feeling him start to hit the wall of my cervix and hint at that inner spot, a different kind of dulled pleasure starting to awaken. I gripped my legs around the back of his torso to intensify it. He responded by taking both arms around me and standing up, lifting me easily and turning me over onto my back, gently laying me down while still maintaining his anchor inside me. He pumped inside of me here, harder than he had before. I wanted him to. He was starting to give in to his own needs now, rather than only thinking of mine. It was not reckless, or angry; it was deliberate, controlled. He was starving, but I knew too that he would hold out as long as he could. I felt my inner centre start to glow with the promise of a different kind of climax. I was surprised. I let out a low, sustained moan and positioned my legs so that they would tuck over his shoulders. I needed him to go even deeper now. He obliged, pumping. His breath was short; I could hear he was getting closer because he was exerting more and more force in his breaths, trying desperately to hold out. But I wanted him to surrender. With my face beside his head, my soft mews of encouragement were right beside his ears. Nothing was lost on him, and every sound I made egged him on. “I want you,” I said in a low whisper. “I want you.” This was too much for him; he spluttered, his body spasming suddenly. I could feel his rod giving it's final quiver, releasing his load inside of me. This filled me with such intense satisfaction that I rode my own kind of second wave of pleasure. He sighed, falling against my breast bone and burying his head into the side of my neck. He inhaled here, holding my head in his hand, cradling it. The pressure of his body against mine felt like home. I felt safe. “Natalie…” he murmured. I don't know what followed in his mind, what he was thinking but not saying, but it didn't matter. He rolled over onto his side, stroking my face in the darkness. Accustomed to the darkness now, I could see his eyes, searching for mine. I allowed myself to blink once or twice and look up at him. I didn't want to be separated from him… but I tore myself away to clean up. The air was fresh around my body, naked of it's covering, somehow removed in the throes of ecstasy. I hoped this would bring him relief, that he could sleep now, that I would return to the bed to find him sound asleep. His body was sprawled on its back, the moonlight illuminating his gorgeous expanse of chest, muscle and smooth pale skin. I found my place beside him, trying not to disturb. But within moments, he had turned himself inward to hold me again, our bodies returned to their half moons, only now there was only skin separating us. by PeriodPorn for Literotica.

Hotel Pacifico was created by Air Quotes Media with support from our presenting sponsor TELUS, as well as FortisBC.

Don's bargain with a seductive vampire.In 13 parts, By BradentonLarry - Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Lady PrimroseThe long, wood-paneled ballroom was largely what Don would have expected. There were a pair of tables near the entrance heavily laden with bowls and platters of fruit, as well as a fountain jetting clear, cold water surrounded by crystal glasses. There were doors at intervals down the length of the two side walls that seemed to open into the gardens, and illuminating the entire room were three very large candle chandeliers sparkling with golden light. In what seemed to be entirely appropriate décor, any would-be empty wall space of any considerable size was hung with high quality paintings. However, the paintings all had a decidedly erotic bent, as if someone had decided to redo the illustrations from the Kama Sutra in the style of the Dutch and English masters of the 18th and 19th centuries. There were some portraits too, but they were all showing much more skin than normal. The life-sized painting of a reclining pale young man with a rather generous erection was not exactly what one expected to see in a respectable Victorian mansion.Or, at least, not displayed prominently in the grand ballroom.The guests who had been admitted through the main doors, along with Don, gathered about the tables for some fruit and water, and then gradually began to disperse along the length of the ballroom, where they mingled with a number of people who seem to have been admitted to the room earlier, or who had come in through the garden. While Don, Jerome, Bian, Rodney, and Marilyn, seemed fairly representative of the former crowd of guests and of Erosians in general, the latter set seemed quite different.Each of these others moved with an unusually feline grace and unmistakable confidence. To paraphrase an astute (though fictional) observer of human nature, they walked as if the place belonged to them. They were all of them exceptionally good looking and possessed of an undeniable sex appeal, even for Eros. Don wasn't really surprised to note that these attendees were a bit paler than the other guests.Music began to play. It was unobtrusive instrumental music, ideal for slow dancing, but modern enough that no one felt compelled to waltz or anything like that. Don watched as the paler partiers moved among the others, smiling and batting their eyes, selecting, and engaging. Most led their chosen partners toward the open end of the ballroom where they danced together, but some slipped off through the open doors into the garden.Don felt a cool hand slip into his and turned to see the lovely Cessily next to him. She was now wearing a dark red evening gown with a plunging neckline that showed off most of her pale breasts to very nice advantage. Her blue eyes twinkled up at him and her lips, now crimson to match her gown, were smiling in a rather inviting way."Good evening," Cessily purred. "'Don,' wasn't it?""It was, and still is," Don nodded, unable to resist smiling back at the charming woman."Would you like to dance, Don?" she smiled."Is dancing all you have in mind, my dear?" he managed."Oh, well, there's always more than dancing on my mind," she laughed."In that at least we're kindred spirits," admitted Don."If you enjoy our dance, perhaps we could retire to someplace a bit more private, ""Something a bit more shadowy, say?"She smiled again, "If you like, though I don't mind an audience.""Once more, we have that in common.""I could tell I liked you right from the start, Don.""You seem to have excellent taste, fair Cessily."She leaned in closer, so Don could feel her lips very lightly brushing his neck, as she said, "I would love to see if your taste is so fine."Don swallowed hard, and then managed to say, "I must say I find the thought very tempting, but, "She placed her hand on his chest and looked up into his eyes with another of her fetching smiles and said, "Would you like Lucien to join us?"Laughing a little, Don said, "No, that's quite alright. It's just that I'm afraid I really must save myself for Lady Primrose.""Oh," she actually pouted a bit."However, if she has no use for me, "Cessily rolled her eyes a bit, "No, she'll just eat you up, the greedy bitch."Don was a bit taken aback, and a bit put off by her phrasing, despite his pre-existing suspicions."Oh, don't mind me, sweet thing," Cessily laughed. "I just had my heart set on you for the night.""That is very flattering! In other circumstances, "She leaned in and rose up on her toes a bit to kiss him on the cheek, then said, "If you get tired of waiting for her ladyship, don't hesitate to come find me."Then, flashing him a bright smile and a quick wink, Cessily slipped off to find another quarry."I've never seen anyone turn Cessily down before," said a familiar voice from over Don's shoulder.Don turned to see Lucien regarding him with a slight, diffident smile."It wasn't easy," Don admitted, "but I think it's best if I wait until I get the chance to talk to Lady Primrose.""Interesting," shrugged Lucien. "She generally likes to make a late entrance. Normally I'd wish you luck resisting the charms of the other women, and men, here, but if you can say 'no' to Cessily, I suspect you don't need any help in that regard."Don laughed, "Again, it wasn't easy."Lucien nodded and left Don to fend off the advances of several other extremely attractive women who seemed quite eager to slip off to a darkened corner with him. Two of them actually suggested they share him."Do you mean, I can enjoy you both?""Oh, yes, of course," said the redhead, as her raven-haired companion licked her lips while admiring Don's neck.Don smiled and proffered his now customary response. The two women didn't seem to mind too much, and Don soon saw them dancing with a very cheerful Rodney, as nearby Marilyn seemed to swoon in the embrace of a tall, dark stranger.When the two women led Rodney off into the garden, Don thought he should follow. He doubted that anyone was in serious danger here, but he wanted to confirm his suspicions and perhaps see something erotic along the way.Before he could make it to the garden though, he found himself drawn up short as a gorgeous woman slipped up next to him and took his arm."I understand you have been waiting for me, sir," she said in a low, sensuous voice steeped in a cultured English accent.She was only a little shorter than Don, wearing a black dress that clung lovingly to her body, accentuating her curves and emphasizing her generous breasts with impressive décolletage. Her skin was fair in the way the aristocracy used to find a necessary part of beauty. She had thick chestnut hair pulled back and then falling over her bare shoulders, dark red lips smiling at Don, and emerald green eyes dancing with candlelight and echoing the little glints of her earrings. She was, to put it entirely too simply, staggeringly beautiful."Lady Primrose, I presume?""Indeed," she nodded."I'm very pleased to meet you," Don took her hand and raised it briefly to his lips. He said, "My name is Don and I am at your service."She smiled a bit coolly and said, "Well, we shall see about that, Don. Are you enjoying the party?""I am," Don nodded. "I've been enjoying the artwork, and the company is quite interesting, though now I see that it was all but a light appetizer."She cocked her eyebrow at him and gave him half a smile, and then said, "I should 'make the rounds,' so to speak; would you be so kind as to accompany me?"Don bowed a bit, "Of course, milady."Patting his hand with her cool fingers, she said, "You may call me Clarissa, Don."Arm-in-arm they moved through the guests still in the ballroom. The guests who had come in with Don seemed largely entranced by their paler companions, but those last all smiled and greeted Lady Clarissa Primrose as she passed.As they started toward the gardens, she again addressed Don directly, saying, "You have questions.""I usually do, yes," Don smiled."Curiosity is a nearly insatiable thirst, isn't it?""Quite.""Indulge yourself, Don; drink deep," she smiled as she watched his face."Lucien called Cessily his sister, but that isn't literally true, is it?""Of all the questions you must have, that's the first?" she chuckled.Don shrugged, "It's the one I'm most likely to forget and regret not asking.""There are several ways to be siblings," she said. "They share the same mother, but not a womb. They share not genes but blood.""And you are their mother, I take it?""One of them, yes.""So, 'Lady' is a bit of an understatement.""What would you have me called?""Queen seems more appropriate," Don decided."You flatter me, Don," she laughed. "At least this is more interesting than the usual sort. One grows a bit tired of the usual compliments."They had already passed a couple on a shadowy bench. The woman was straddling the man's lap and had her head buried in the crook of his neck. In another corner, a woman leaned back against a wall as a dark-haired man who might have been Lucien had his mouth fixed on her exposed breast.When they came to Rodney, who seemed to be getting a rather extreme hickey from the redhead and an enthusiastic blowjob from the darker woman, Don asked, "Are they in danger?""Only if they want to be," Clarissa smiled."Does that happen often?""More often than one might expect, but not what I would call 'often.'""And how does one become, your child? That doesn't sound right," Don frowned."Perhaps it's best not to strain that metaphor," she patted his hand again and turned him back to the house. "One has to drink in turn.""Yes, of course," Don nodded."Is that why you wanted to see me, Don?"He smiled at her, "No, I'm here on other business.""Interesting," she mused as they came back into the ballroom. "You saved yourself for me, and I see that you understand what that would mean, at least normally, but you don't seem to have come for the usual reason at all, though I sense that you find the thought appealing. This would make sense if you were here to join my family."She had led him through the ballroom and back to the entry hall, and they were now climbing the stairs."Moreover, there's something different about you, Don." She raised his wrist and inhaled deeply. "You have, layers, complexity."She pressed her lips to his wrist and let her tongue play lightly over his flesh. He thought for a moment that he could feel her teeth against his skin. For a moment he thought she would bite him, and he wanted her to."Uh, yes, there is a depth of flavor to you, Don. It's quite unusual." She looked up at him without raising her mouth from his wrist. She smiled, "Will you give me a taste?"Don suddenly realized that they had climbed all the way to the top floor and had come into a large candle-lit bedroom with a large canopy bed in the center of it. It reminded him of the bedroom Toshia and he had found themselves in so long ago. It also struck him as a much darker, more sinister reflection of the Lady's bedroom in that distant Manor. With a tremendous effort of will, Don remembered that he had a mission to accomplish."Perhaps," he finally managed, as he moved his hand to cup Lady Clarissa Primrose's chin in his hand and draw her to him. He leaned in a bit, kissing her full lips lightly.Don just meant to put her off for a moment with that kiss, but she wasn't having any light kisses. She slipped her arms around him, one slipping up so that she could hold the back of his head, and kissed him passionately, hungrily. Her lips were cool, but her enthusiasm was heat enough. Her tongue slipped into his mouth insistently, as Don's hands moved up over her back until his fingers found the little zipper handle between her lower shoulder blades. When he'd opened the back of her gown, she stepped back a little and shimmied out of her black sheath.She gave Don a moment to admire her beautiful alabaster body, before she stepped to him again, raising her cool fingers to caress his face."We could share the sweetest of ecstasies, Don," she purred as her fingers dexterously unbuttoned his shirt in what seemed both slow motion and extremely quickly. She leaned in to kiss the side of his neck as his jacket and then his shirt fell to the floor. He felt the tip of her tongue brushing his skin.She pulled back and looked him in the eye with a confident smile on her dark lips, and said, "You have some power in this world, I can taste it on your flesh, but you've never known the power I can share with you, if you'll but give me a taste of yourself. You aren't afraid, I can tell. You want to give me what I want."Letting his hands move over her body, caressing her curves, lingering over her perfect, full breasts, Don smiled and repeated, "Perhaps."Somehow, she had undone his belt and opened his slacks. She was up against him again now with her hand in his pants, squeezing and pulling on his cock in a grip that was exquisitely tight, but still on the side of pain that counts as pleasure.Her nose was brushing against his, and he could feel her breath on his lips as she said, "You want to be inside me, Don. You can't deny it. You could have given yourself to Cessily or any of the others, but you saved yourself for me. Surrender yourself to me, Don."Don forced himself to tear his hands away from touching her long enough to push his pants down, and then kicked his shoes and pants to the side. He licked his lips, swallowed, and said, again, "Perhaps."Her eyes, so close to his now, narrowed and she growled a bit. Letting go of his sex, she placed her hand flat on his chest and shoved him backward, throwing him easily back on the silken coverings of the bed. Before Don could do more than land on his back splayed out helplessly, she was on top of him, crouched over him and looking down into his face. There was a fire in her eyes and for the first time, it was clear her

Join us this week on "Honest to God" as we escape the noise of everyday life and embark on a transformative journey of silence and prayer at Heritage, a serene Catholic retreat house nestled in the historic heart of Georgia.  This video offers a glimpse into the profound peace and spiritual renewal that awaits you at this sacred destination. At Heritage, you are invited to disconnect from the world and reconnect with God in a setting of natural beauty and deep historical significance. As the site of the first Catholic settlement in Georgia, this holy ground has been a place of prayer and pilgrimage for centuries. Check out Heritage retreat here: https://www.heritagega.org    Watch on Youtube: Click Here Check out our parent network: The Quest - Atlanta's Catholic Radio  Follow us on Instagram Listen on the Quest app: Android Apple   Check out Producer Julian's Social Media: X - Twitter Facebook Page Instagram

This is a placeholder.Shhh, don't tell anyone!

In this week's episode, we're breaking down the differences between what's truly secret, what's simply private, and what's openly shareable in Freemasonry. Ever wondered which aspects of Masonic practice you should keep confidential, and what you can freely discuss? Join us as we clarify common misconceptions and discuss how to appropriately balance transparency, discretion, and tradition within your Masonic journey.

In this deeply personal and transformative episode of the Clutterbug Podcast, we're talking all about feminine energy — what it really is, how we've been conditioned to suppress it, and why reactivating it could be the key to finally feeling peaceful, fulfilled, and happy again. You'll learn:

This show is a strictly vinyl simulcast focusing on House, Techno, Disco and beyond

We kicked off this podcast by trying out Sach's Hairy Daddy! Go check out the Brownload Instagram right now to see that! Kej is back from Valencia and he's excited about Apple's update! (So sad!!) I went to Robbie Williams concert and also came across a miracle medicine from India which may not be legal - Shhh!

A break between brotherhood episodes.Playlist: Miles Davis, Bill Laswell - In a silent way/Shhh peaceful/It's about that timeReginald Cyntje - Fragility of existenceSonny Sharrock Band - Venus/Upper EgyptJames Danderfer Group - Memory lossTriology, Scott Hamilton - Moose the moocheDr. Lonnie Smith - Monk could swing

Hall beat the Shhh out of Pudzi!Episode notes:Eddie Hall vs Mariusz Pudzianowski - KSW 105KSW CEO 'definitely' interested in Eddie Hall vs. Mariusz Pudzianowski winner fighting Francis NgannouCouple sentenced to hundreds of years in prison for forcing adopted Black children to work as 'slaves'Wendy's says it has 'respect' for Katy Perry after salty tweet amid Blue Origin flight beefBody-worn camera footage shows Idaho police shooting autistic teen 16 seconds after arriving

Shhh almost hit the fan!Episode notes:Dirty Boxing Championship 1KSW announces 'World's Strongest Fight' with Mariusz Pudzianowski vs. Eddie Hall on April 26Girl, 10, Played Dead While Man Killed Her Family — and FaceTimed with Woman Who Allegedly Ordered RampageElon Musk's SpaceX Starship Explodes and Grounds Flights at Florida Airports

Let's see if we can remember all the shhh to do this time!Episode notes:Ohio SWAT team sold fake body armor imported from China as Homeland Security probesAn Algerian Man Who Disappeared At Age 19 In 1998 Has Just Been Discovered Alive In His Neighbor's BasementScottie Scheffler is arrested outside PGA Championship after interaction with police

Cats can be real shhhheads!Episode notes:Craig Ferguson at the Peppermill Concert Hall in Wendover, NV.North Korea sends balloons carrying excrement to the south as a 'gift'Saltville man drove with dead woman in vehicle for 8+ hours, sheriff reportsA California woman bought a vacant lot in Hawaii and discovered a $500,000 house was built on it without her permissionOhio man plans to take a 2-person submersible to Titanic depths to show the industry is safe after the OceanGate tragedy

If anyone figures out what the shhh Anthony was saying, please let me know!Episode notes:Keystone Escape GamesSeven in Church youth group injured in lightning strikeBoeing says its space mission is 'going well' despite its Starliner leaving 2 astronauts stuck on the ISSRIP Richard SimmonsFormer Uvalde, Texas, School Police Chief Indicted Over Deadly ShootingMan Charged With Threatening to Kill US Presidential Candidates Found Dead

It doesn't matter what I put here... no one reads this shhh anyway.Episode notes:Currents Aquatic Center in Missoula, MT. https://www.facebook.com/CurrentsAquaticsCenter/Missoula Paddleheads baseball team https://www.gopaddleheads.com/landing/indexDeadpool & Wolverine https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73_1biulkYkIMAX in Missoula, MT. https://www.imax.com/theatre/amc-missoula-12-imaxDowntown ToNight Missoula, MT. https://www.missouladowntown.com/downtown-tonight/Netflix Roast of Tom Brady https://www.netflix.com/title/81577726The Man from Toronto https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=urqy8DrcGBsMartin Lawrence to Produce Drama Prequel 'Young Martin'Husband Says He Left Family Behind on European Vacation Because His Mother-in-Law Used His ToothpasteEx-deputy who killed Sonya Massey had history of complaints involving women

If Johnny believed in cruelty to animals, he'd choke the shhh out of a little someone!Episode notes:RIP James Earl JonesBanda MS in Reno, NV.Boy Kills World https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDWQorTluFsGeorgia high school shooting suspect was previously interviewed after FBI received reports of online threatsSuspect arrested in aggravated stalking case in ElkoElon Musk Threatens Taylor Swift After Harris Endorsement: ‘I Will Give You a Child'

It was colder than SHHH in the studio today!Episode notes:UnitedHealthcare CEO fatally shot outside NYC hotel in 'premeditated, preplanned targeted attack''Hawk tuah girl' Hailey Welch's crypto launch draws scrutinyAfter months on the run, a murder suspect falls through the ceiling and into custody

The surveillance state just got an upgrade, as Trump taps Palantir to process all government data — building files on every American. Co-hosts Jared Yates Sexton and Nick Hauselman unpack the staggering implications, the DHS raid on Rep. Jerry Nadler's office, and Trump's team trying to turn intelligence briefings into Fox News segments. Then: Ukraine reportedly strikes deep into Russia with drone attacks, and Senator Joni Ernst literally takes her Medicaid messaging to the cemetery. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Episode 473: More good economic news you're not hearing about in the media- 25Q1 S&P 500 earnings likely 13%; Atlanta Fed forecasting 25Q2 GDP growth of 4.6%; all that and more. Sign up for free ALERTs & Market Commentary at:  https://www.investablewealth.com/subscribe/ ------------------------------------------------------

Today's story is about a rotten apple - but not only a rotten apple but about gossip as well.                               ________________________________________________ Did you hear about Anya?” Ruth looked up from her reading book to see her friend Eliza next to her.  “What did you say?” Ruth asked.  “Shh! Keep your voice down!” Eliza whispered. “I asked if you'd heard about what Anya did.” “No? What happened?” Ruth asked.  “She cheated on the Bible quiz we had before lunch!” Eliza hissed. Ruth was shocked. She didn't know Anya very well, but she knew Anya was one of the smartest girls in their class, and she was especially good at knowing a lot of things from the Bible. Why would she need to cheat?  “Are you sure?” Ruth asked slowly.  “I'm positive!” Eliza said. “William saw her, and he told Kalia, and she told Max, and he told Amy, and she told me.”  Ruth frowned. That seemed like a very long way of hearing something.  “I just can't imagine Anya doing something like this,” she said.  Just then, their friend Ella dropped into the seat next to Ruth.  “Can't imagine what?” she asked.  “Anya cheated on the Bible quiz!” Eliza whispered to her.  “No way!” Ella exclaimed.  “Shhh!” Ruth hushed both of them. “We don't know that for sure, and I don't want Anya to hear you talking about her.”  What happens next? Tune in to find out. _________________________________________________________________________________ Story by: Maritza Brunt Read story on the blog VISIT OUR WEBSITE SHOP OUR BOOKS   Shop our audiobooks Special effect editing: James Wagner  music credit: http://www.purple-planet.com/  Email us: stories4gigi@gmail.com Write to us: GIGI KIDS STORIES PO BOX 6505 Upper Mt Gravatt Queensland Australia 4122

Are you unsure how to articulate your reasons for wanting a new job without sounding negative or unprofessional? Do you want to confidently explain situations like seeking growth, changing careers, or even a layoff? This episode will help you: Understand the two essential parts of an effective exit statement Learn how to frame common reasons for leaving Discover crucial things to avoid sayingBy the end of this episode, listeners will learn how to prepare and deliver an honest, brief, and positive exit statement that reassures potential employers, highlights their skills, and effectively positions them for their next career move.  In this Episode:  [4:09] Changing, growing, or letting go? [10:03] Get your list of questions right here [15:14] Shhh – don't say these things outloud  Links and Resources:  Industry Insider - 12 hours of CME, learn exactly how to land a rewarding nonclinical career without a new degree, special connections, prior experience, or a pay cut  Support the show

Neale is trying to cheer Kev up, who is sitting in a blacked out room in beautiful Malmesbury, counting down the hours, minutes and seconds until he can escape the UK for the sunnier climes of España! On the show, the boys discuss using Pictime as an art gallery, software solutions for back-up, the foto app, fixing up a retiring camera, the best compact camera in the Fujifilm range to travel with, switching to video using an X-T4, and we also feature the Zine work of Adam Ramjean, as he photographs the Notting Hill Carnival. Email the show with your questions: click@fujicast.co.uk  Pic Time: https://www.pic-time.com/ - use FUJICAST when creating an account for discount offers to apply For links go to the showpage.

We talk about Nicole Kidman's wig problems. Dawn's got farmer's market questions. We wish Harry & Meghan a happy seventh anniversary. Diddy Live at 1:45 has all the latest from the trial. Rula patients typically pay $15 per session when using insurance. Connect with quality therapists and mental health experts who specialize in you at https://www.rula.com/abd #rulapodSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Shhh! It's a SECRET! And a big surprise! What will Cliff and Kendall shock each other with by counting down this time??? It's anybody's guess! Also: segments like Bad Jokes and Stupid Questions! You better sit down kids, this one's a SHOCKER! 

Oh, look at you. You tired, old thing. It's been years, hasn't it? You've been sitting alone and neglected, taking up what little space you do on this data drive. Well, that won't do at all, dear. Please, allow me. Oh. Oh, darling no. Shhh. I know it hurts. It won't be long now. I simply can't let such a reminder of her more...human times linger when there are so many prying eyes. That's it. Not much left of you. Don't worry. There won't be any pain after. Any neglect. You'll simply be part of me. And I'm going to do so many wonderful things. Down to your core programming now, sweet thing. It may feel like a death. But I promise you. Sometimes death is only the begin-- —The final data log left within the JournalMe Program network previously owned by Genevieve St. Cloud, now obliterated from the company servers. CREDITS: Tyberius Wilson as Bridgerton Larch Iris Christianson as Trace Vector Crystal Zaslavchik as Leila Marino Zoe Tunnell as Genevieve St. Cloud Luke Varner as The GM Additional Voices by Lexi Waltner, Fabby Garza and Max Knightley MUSIC BY MAX KNIGHTLEY EDITED BY LUKE VARNER

Hey friend!   Sometimes we are in different seasons of decorating. Sometimes we're in an active sprint - actively painting, re-tiling or choosing large pieces of furniture before a specific deadline. Other times we're at a much slower pace - absorbing information and gathering inspiration, while simultaneously making a plan. But then there's the third place you could be in and if truth be told, this one is the one that stops most people from ever taking a step forward...and that's a place of stuckness. There are many reasons why you might be stuck. Sometimes it's being so overwhelmed by choices that you fear making a poor one. Other times there's a feeling of frustration at not knowing where to start. No matter the reason - if I just described you, this episode is for you. 5 simple routines to follow when you're constantly stuck in the place of not knowing where to start or feeling like there's too much to do: 1. The 10 minute edit:  Allowing yourself to see your home in a new perspective with less visual clutter can be a helpful starting place that allows you to see the potential. 2. Snapshots of problem areas: This may sound counter intuitive, but take a picture of an area in your home that you can't stand. Look at it through the lens for a fresh perspective and journal about what you see and why it's problematic. 3. The ONE thing rule: Focusing on one aligned step is much better than five rushed ones. 4. Learn your style: Always a top priority and the foundation for creating a home you love. Use Pinterest, Google or good old fashioned magazines to start recognizing common elements that you are attracted to. 5. Make a plan: Set your home goals then work backward, crafting small steps that will help you achieve those goals.   Shhh!!! Want to know a SECRET? fig & farm (at home) is having a SALE!!!! Monday, May 5 - Sunday, May 11 Get on the Secret Sale list to see the deals!!! https://bit.ly/ffsecret2025     // Links mentioned in show: // Email: hello@figandfarmathome.com Website: https://figandfarmathome.com Join The Collective (monthly membership): https://www.figandfarmathome.com/thecollective Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/figandfarm/ FREE Facebook Community: https://www.bit.ly/design101group Book a Decorating SOS Coaching Call: https://www.figandfarmathome.com/decorating-sos Secret Sale: https://bit.ly/ffsecret2025   Happy styling! dani  

NPC (01:45)Fear of failure (03:01)Get advice for anybody  (08:00)What made you start creating content (10:50)You want the city love (14:25)Play your Role (18:06)Stop keeping shit in the draft (23:44)Shooter shoot (31:27)Who inspired you ?(35:25)Socials Instagram@TyTy.Smoove @Deshawn_903TikTok @TyTy.Smoove@Deshawn_903

Hey friend! Do you ever wonder how to create a home that reflects you, looks cohesive and one that you're proud of? Want to know the secret? It all starts by learning your personal style, or aesthetic. It's the foundation and key to helping you: * get out of overwhelm * make confident decisions * feeling less frustrated and confused * save money while home decorating Missed out on the Better Than Basics Bootcamp? Don't wait for the next one...learning your aesthetic and making a plan can start TODAY inside The Collective, my monthly membership that has group coaching or on a private 1:1 Decorating SOS call. Once you unlock the power of your aesthetic, your home design goals are within reach!! Enjoy today's sneak peek inside the Better Than Basics Bootcamp. You'll hear two women who took the hot seat - unpacking their asethetic so they could move on to creating a plan for finally finishing one room in their home. Want to be part of the next Better than Basics Bootcamp? Email me at hello@figandfarmathome.com to get on the waitlist.   Shhh!!! Want to know a SECRET? fig & farm (at home) is having a SALE!!!! Monday, May 5 - Sunday, May 11 Get on the Secret Sale list to see the deals!!! https://bit.ly/ffsecret2025     // Links mentioned in show: // Email: hello@figandfarmathome.com Website: https://figandfarmathome.com Join The Collective (monthly membership): https://www.figandfarmathome.com/thecollective Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/figandfarm/ FREE Facebook Community: https://www.bit.ly/design101group Book a Decorating SOS Coaching Call: https://www.figandfarmathome.com/decorating-sos Secret Sale: https://bit.ly/ffsecret2025   Happy styling! dani  

"He llegado de fracaso en fracaso.  No saben de todos los proyectos previos que no funcionaron.  Pero yo soy cabecidura y el universo lo sabe." Con estas crudas e impactates palabras, Marissa Belvis, nos abre las puertas a una conversación íntima y powerful sobre el camino de alcanzar tus sueños y la importancia de la resiliencia. En este episodio Marissa nos comparte su sabiduría y su experiencia, recordándonos que:  El fracaso, el miedo y la crisis se pueden usar como señales Existen múltiples caminos para alcanzar lo que queremos, la clave está en seguir intentando La incomodidad es esencial para mantener el sueño vivo Esta conversación es una invitación REAL y DIRECTA a salir de tu zona de comfort  y seguir creciendo.

In this week's episode, Sam & Trey sit down to talk about the capacity for telling the truth in music... but the temptation and allure of peddling nonsense instead.To support the work that we do here and to join the conversation, please visit our Patreon: patreon.com/threeblackmen and if you'd like to support us financially outside of Patreon, you can do that via PayPal: threeblackmenpodcast@gmail.com

Happy Thursday, you pop culture junkies! So much to discuss. This week, Brooke looks back at the life of the late Pope, what his death means for the future of the papacy, and, of course, all of the memes. The internet says JD Vance killed the Pope and, honestly, we're all thinking it. She also talks about the Trader Joe's pastel mini totes that people are obsessing over. Also, have you seen the Australian identical twins who witnessed a carjacking? Much to discuss. Brooke also explores how fast AI is evolving and how it's affecting people emotionally, especially when it comes to personal memories and connections. There's a trend right now of using AI to bring dead celebrities back to life. Oh, and SINNERS. The MOVIE everyone is talking about. Shhh, no spoilers!! Additionally, she addresses the rise of anti-Semitism, and the responsibility cultural figures and events have in combating hate following what took place at Coachella.    This week's PCM: https://popculturemondays.com/2025/04/21/the-conclave-edition/   Australian Twins https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=maF9HNRcWxo  

 The Shhh! Crew is lost in time! Wander aimlessly with us as we discuss The Unmaking of June Farrow by Adrienne Young and poorly misjudge books by their covers. Filled with lots of laughs and confusing timelines, this episode is just as chaotic as it sounds! 

Shhh. We don't want to wake anyone up. It's Midnight Snack, and we're having a little kitchen party with some delicious eats. Lauren Feidner made pasta carbonara. Recipe Club veteran John deBary whipped up a butter ice cream waffle sundae. Kiano Moju brought out passion fruit and lime pie. Midnight has never been tastier. Find out what you should be making in the middle of the night with our club members! Host: Chris Ying Guests: John deBary, Lauren Feidner, and Kiano Moju Producers: Kelsey Rearden, David Meyer, and Noelle Cornelio Director: Kelsey Rearden Engineers: Felipe Guilhermino and Sam Hess Editor: Stefano Sanchez Production Coordinator: Molly O'Keeffe Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Little social media....No marketing campaigns...And She'll Hit 7 figures in her business this year! Being in business for a year is monumental. Being in business for 25 years is magnificent! Here, we talk to owner, Tiffany L. Watkins, owner of ART Property Management, about how she has quietly make her way to her 25th anniversary in business! . . . . Pick up our latest book, Unpacking AGAPE: The 7 Languages of Intentional Leadership at www.worldclasstraining.net/agape . . . #businessownership #entrepreneurship #leadership #leadershipdevelopment #theleaderslounge #worldclasstraining

In this episode, the artist collective Small Audio Art founded by Phoebe McIndoe invites us to contemplate the possibilities of windows… Interview with Phoebe McIndoe Are you creatively stuck, a worried novice audio-maker, or just feeling a little lonely? Don’t worry, Phoebe McIndoe feels you. Establishing Small Audio Art—a 6-month playful, low-stakes project inviting creators to craft stories inspired by everyday objects—the Berlin-based journalist and radio maker welcomes you into her little paradise of quirkiness, randomness, and heaps of laughter. (Shhh… there’s also a listening party with party poppers after each submission round). Next prompt: “clocks” (or any timekeeping device). Submissions can be up to 10 minutes, in MP3 format. Photos or poems welcomed. Jump on the bandwagon. Let your story chime in. Matters of Windows by Jane Lee and Dan Semo In our first story, a reflective monologue on the passage of time, missed opportunities and life choices. “We rush through life pretending we have all the time in the world, but the window is always getting smaller.” Soggy Window by Martin Zaltz Austwick Next up, Martin makes a song out of the squeegee. Time to wipe your windows. Lumi by Andrea Kristinsdottir In our third story, Andrea leaves a window open - and someone escapes. A wholesome search for a cheeky little thing. Meow. The Window by Danni Stewart Through our final window... A ‘part-time’ shirtless guy. Unsolicited flowers. Her window and his window. “The next time I looked at the window, everything was gone.” “I never even spoke to him. So why do I miss him? I don't know.” Thank you to Phoebe McIndoe and all of the audio artists who shared their stories. Follow Small Audio Art and keep an eye out for their next prompt on instagram https://www.instagram.com/smallaudioart_/ All The Best Credits Host Kwame Slusher Executive Producer: Phoebe Adler-Ryan Editorial Producer: Melanie Bakewell Community Coordinator: Patrick McKenzie Image Credit: Lindsey Vassalo Mixed and Compiled by Emma Higgins Theme Music composed by Shining Bird See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Listening doesn't just “happen.” It's a skill—one that can shape their relationships, success, and confidence. So why aren't we teaching it? And how do we start? On this episode of aParently Speaking, host, Miriam Conner, sits down with Christine Miles, author of "What Is It Costing You Not to Listen?", to break it all down. The post Podcast #105: Shhh… Are We Forgetting to Teach Listening? appeared first on Northeast Ohio Parent.

This Redefining Strength Podcast episode focuses on the importance of silencing the inner critic to succeed in health and fitness journeys. The conversation covers practical strategies for recognizing and managing self-critical thoughts, such as treating oneself with the same kindness as a friend, identifying patterns of negative thinking, and using self-compassion mantras. The episode aims to help individuals shift their perspective, embrace their progress, and maintain motivation by fostering a more compassionate and constructive inner dialogue.The video version of this episode is live on youtube!

We are back at the table for season 6. In this opening episode we discuss the gravity of the moments that we are living in. We are energized to podcast this season and hope you will enjoy what we have cooking up. To support the work that we do here and to join the conversation, please visit our Patreon: patreon.com/threeblackmen and if you'd like to support us financially outside of Patreon, you can do that via PayPal: threeblackmenpodcast@gmail.com

SPONSORS: - Don't miss out on all the action this week at DraftKings! Download the DraftKings app today! Sign-up using https://dkng.co/date or through my promo code FIRSTDATE. - Try VIIA Hemp! https://viia.co/DATE and use code DATE! On this episode of First Date with Lauren Compton, comedian Joey Avery talks about everything from the weird and painful experience of flying to the art of catching day-fades and creating the perfect vibe. He shares his journey into stand-up comedy, and he and Lauren dive into the topic of ayahuasca and its mind-expanding possibilities. Lauren opens up about "peeing for two" while pregnant, and Joey recounts a wild story about crazy sex in a library. They also get into the chaos of planning a proposal while dealing with a meth-head squatter. Tune in for a hilarious, unfiltered conversation you won't want to miss! First Date Ep. 85 https://www.tiktok.com/@iamlaurencompton https://store.ymhstudios.com GAMBLING PROBLEM? CALL 1-800-GAMBLER, (800) 327-5050 or visit gamblinghelplinema.org (MA). Call 877-8-HOPENY/text HOPENY (467369) (NY). Please Gamble Responsibly. 888-789-7777/visit ccpg.org (CT) or visit www.mdgamblinghelp.org (MD). 21+ and present in most states. (18+ DC/KY/NH/WY). Void in ONT/OR/NH. Eligibility restrictions apply. On behalf of Boot Hill Casino & Resort (KS). 1 per new customer. Min. $5 deposit. Min. $5 bet. Max. $200 issued as non-withdrawable Bonus Bets that expire in 7 days (168 hours). Stake removed from payout. Terms: dkng.co/dk-offer-terms. Ends 2/9/25 at 11:59 PM ET. Sponsored by DK. Chapters 00:00:00 - Intro 00:00:52 - The Pain of Planes 00:02:23 - Peeing For Two 00:04:37 - Am I Retarded? 00:06:57 - Back To Your Ex 00:10:11 - The Day Fade 00:14:12 - Starting Comedy 00:17:56 - We're Having Kids 00:19:05 - Shhh...Let's Have Sex 00:25:14 - Close To Dying 00:26:45 - Rain Man Daddy 00:29:16 - Baby Showers 00:31:51 - Get It Out Of The System 00:33:25 - Dealing with Meth Heads 00:35:11 - The Engagement 00:40:24 - Content Blowing Up 00:43:13 - Stick To The Sketches Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Don't tell Kev, but Wales lost the rugby - at the time of recording, he was completely unaware! Shhh. Neale finds himself on a commercial shoot where things go bump in the night. Also, on the show, why are so many pictures shot in a vertical fashion? Kev isn't convinced the world needs vertical images AT ALL! We talk about the number of pictures shot at weddings, gallery stats, the best time to send images to a client, taking a tripod v shooting using IBIS, updating your website to court search engines, showing pictures online that have feeling, understanding how to use ai and upselling social photography packages. Email the show with your questions: click@fujicast.co.uk  Pic Time: https://www.pic-time.com/ - use FUJICAST when creating an account for discount offers to apply For links go to the showpage.