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2 episodes with snaking
2 episodes with snaking
In a world where we're bombarded by patch notes and minor differences when we go to play an online game, when can it become too much? What's acceptable when adjusting a single player experience and when is it too far? Should the game creator's vision be the final say on all of this? Do we have more questions to ask you?MORE PLACES TO FIND USCrubscribe ► https://bit.ly/CrubcastGet the show early and get exclusive content at our Patreon ► https://www.patreon.com/crubOur Crubcasts are recorded LIVE at https://www.twitch.tv/crub_official every Tuesday at 7pm Eastern, with EXCLUSIVE Pre- and Post-ShowsJoin our Discord ► https://crub.org/joinBird App ► https://twitter.com/crubofficialPodcasts are available on Apple, Google, Spotify, and other platforms are available at ► https://crub.orgSHOW NOTESHelldivers 2 (recent) nerf details in this article, with response from Arrowhead CEO:https://www.vg247.com/helldivers-2-more-nerfs-negative-steam-reviews-ceo-respondsThere's that Hitman 2 clip we mention at the end, it is incredible:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6do1-cmcQHETODAY'S CRUBCAST HOSTSChris: https://www.youtube.com/@MykonosFanNicco: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCl56kbl3tb-KiGEHT7MUGUgMoriarty: https://www.youtube.com/@reallycoolSean: https://www.youtube.com/@WolfkaosaunCHAPTERS00:00 Balancing the intro of this episode09:26 Nailing down the particulars of "balance"14:32 Having to readjust muscle memory as games are patched25:00 Balancing power fantasy vs vision of the game31:05 How to improve the Olympics35:30 The age-old question, where do Sonic's rings go40:28 Snaking in Mario Kart DS + nerf vs buff56:14 The1TrueBlue's Crubscriber Question of the Week
A scorching outdoor encounter in the dog days of summer. by TheSleepingKing. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. You know the worst thing about the Midwest? August. Sure, there are other things. But after three straight weeks of 98 degrees and 90% humidity you don't really care that Kansas is a thing. You just want out – to escape the stifling grassland; preferably to a place where you don't need to swim through the steam to reach the next air-conditioned oasis. Where I work we need to maintain a minimum staffing level to fulfill our obligations. So vacation requests are handled on a first come first serve basis. First person to request time off gets first pick of available dates. Usually I get in early, guaranteeing myself at least one week that I want. But by the time I remembered to request this year, my only option for a summer break was the final week in August.Monday and Tuesday were a bust. Too hot to leave the house. I tried Monday morning, heading out to my favorite brunch spot for an omelet. But after burning my hand on the gear shift lever at 10:00 am I decided to pack it in. The weather app promised cooler temperatures mid-to-late-week, so I set about crafting a plan to salvage what was left of my vacation. There's a state park a few hours north, on the edge of a popular college town. I'd hiked there several times before. It was quiet, with a decent elevation and full tree canopy, and a 15-foot waterfall at the crux of the two longest trails. Temps in the mid-eighties were still warmer than I preferred. But after months of being stuck in a warehouse 10 hours a day, a little time outside seemed…necessary. I texted my friend Natalie, curious if she'd want to tag along. She was fun, outdoorsy, and never seemed too busy for an adventure. And sometimes, if we'd both had a few drinks, you might find her with her head in my lap, cock in her mouth and my fingers slowly circling her clit; agreeing this was a great way to spend an evening. But this time I struck out. I was on my own. I'd have to make the best of it. Every hotel in town was booked for Friday night (damn college football weekend), so I reserved a room for Wednesday and Thursday and headed out after lunch. Two hours and three Interstates later I pulled into a parking lot already half-filled with cars. I intended to drop my bag in the room and lap the short trail before dinner. That plan screeched to halt the moment I shut off the car. Cooler temperatures midweek my ass. It was 90 degrees at 4:15. The air saturated my clothes as I trudged across the pavement, and by the time I arrived at the check-in desk I knew I was done for the day. Cranking up the air in the room I decided to catch up on some streaming shows before heading across the parking lot to a local burger joint for a lite supper. But soon the sun disappeared behind a fortress of darkened clouds. The wind whipped up and the rain poured down in sheets, lashing the windows and transforming the parking lot into a rippling black pond. I watched for a while, checking the weather report to find nothing about precipitation. If Thursday was anything like this…. Eventually the rain stopped, and I headed out for dinner. It was cooler now – high 70s or so, and the squall had dried the air enough for the wind to wick away the water instead of steaming me in a sauna. I picked a seat in the corner of the restaurant patio and settled in for a meal. The dining room filled up quickly. Mostly locals – you could tell by the comfortable clothes and their rapport with the bartenders. But midway through my second beer, three young women rounded the corner from the waiting area, following the hostess to a four-top across the aisle from me beneath the center awning. And they were obviously based somewhere else. Two of them looked similar, (sisters maybe? cousins?) with straight blonde hair and big broad smiles. They dressed like they'd come straight from the yacht club: white shorts, striped navy tees and deck shoes; one with a denim jacket, the other in a hat. The third was taller with rectangular glasses, buoyant, gently curled auburn hair, and a short powder blue A-line summer dress accentuating the tone and length of her legs. She caught me looking as they stopped at their table. I turned away quickly, smiling to myself, disappointed, yet amused that I wasn't as discrete as I used to be. I took a full swig of beer and set the mug gently on the coaster before glancing back toward their table. The brunette had switched places with her friends, taking the seat on the far side of the circle, just about facing me. For a while I kept my eyes to myself. They ordered drinks and struck up a lively conversation. My burger and fries arrived, and I concentrated on securing the toppings so as not to make a fool of myself the first time I bit into it. But as I worked my way through the meal my attention began to wander. First to the parking lot. Then to the bar. And finally, to the beauty at the table twelve feet away. I stole glances between french fries and over the rim of my glass, careful to look away the moment before she turned her head or shifted her eyes toward me. Despite my best efforts she caught me once or twice. I flashed a smile, she did the same, we both looked away until the next time it happened. I was always drawn back. Her face was so bright, skin glowing in the warmth of the pendant lights. She shifted in her chair, slouching a little, stretching her legs to the edge of the aisle and crossing them at the ankles. Her dress rode high up her thighs, the shadow of the fabric and the table above shielding me from what lay beneath. I pretended I hadn't noticed, drawing out a sip of beer until she returned to her conversation. Inappropriate thoughts crept through my mind. I prodded them, trying to keep them at bay. She was at least ten – if not fifteen years younger. I was here to hike, not ogle women just barely out of college. The waiter stopped by my table, asking if I needed anything. I should have asked for the cheque. It would have been the smart thing to do. Instead, I asked for ice cream. It was still warm out, seemed reasonable. A few minutes later I spotted him heading my way, a tray with a tall bowl and several margaritas balanced on one hand. As he stopped to set the bowl in front of me, movement behind him caught my eye. I looked past to the ladies' table to catch the brunette uncross her ankles and ease her outside leg into the aisle, her knees drifting apart just far enough to show me smooth, plump pussy lips unencumbered by fabric or modesty. I froze, staring. Drinking it in. “Everything okay sir,” the waiter inquired, snapping me back to the moment. I tore my eyes away and looked up, then down at the ice cream, then up again, trying to reset my brain. “Yes,” I replied, “thank you. It looks…delicious.” I don't think I was talking about ice cream. And from the way his forehead wrinkled I think he knew that. I dipped the spoon in and took a bite. He nodded and moved past me to the table waiting on drinks. Staring at the bowl I tried to collect my thoughts. But all I could picture was the perfect pocket of pleasure framed between those gently tanned thighs. I lifted my head. Her legs remained splayed, treasure visible. Leaning back in her seat she lifted one foot, skimming her calf up over her shin until one knee rested over the other, closing the curtain on my view. Our gaze met. The corners of her mouth curled up and her eyebrows shrugged, and I felt the stir in my groin as I realized that perhaps…I was meant to see what I saw. I smiled a little. Then stopped. Her friends had turned to watch me, giggling into the hands covering their mouths. I scooped a spoonful of ice cream and shoved it into mine, staring at the table. Nothing like looking creepy in front of attractive women half your age. I decided to finish my dessert and keep my eyes to myself, get back to my room before embarrassing myself further. Before I could execute my plan, the women settled their tab and left. Through the glass I watched them skip across the parking lot toward the hotel, laughing with each other along the way. Something slipped from the brunette's swinging hand, and when she stooped to pick it up she looked back in my direction. I flinched, wanting to turn away. But I couldn't. She was mesmerizing. She flashed a smile, then ran to catch up with her friends. I waited until I was sure they were settled in their rooms before heading back to mine. I ambled into the bathroom and checked myself in the mirror. I was in good shape for 40 plus. Ten years ago I might have made a pass at them; bought them a round, slid over to their table, try to talk one into joining me in my room. Instead…I took a shower, cranked up the air conditioning, and went to bed. Thursday morning I grabbed some apples from the breakfast bar, threw on a tee shirt and cargo shorts and prepared to hit the trail. It was a little after 8:00, about 75 degrees. The weather app promised 85 by 2:00 pm, which gave me plenty of time to loop the long trails before the heat became oppressive. Armed with two frozen water bottles and the fruit in a small backpack I caught a ride share to the park and headed out. The forest was teaming with life. Birds of all feathers chattered in the trees while rabbits and squirrels and other small creatures darted about in the in the brush below. The canopy was lush and thick, filtering much of the early light and heavily shading the first few miles, making for a pleasant hike. But the trail was overgrown from nearly two years of under use. The deeper I forged into the trees the more difficult it became to stay on track. And the leaves that earlier shielded me from the sun now trapped its heat beneath them, turning a warm walk in a light breeze into a hot slog through a noisy sauna. I didn't remember the route as well as I thought, and before I knew it, I was lost. I took a seat on a fallen log and fished a bottle out of the backpack. The ice had melted but the water was still cool. After half the bottle I traded it for my phone and tried to figure out where the hell I was. Reception was spotty and the GPS couldn't decide between several locations. From the lay of the land and direction of my hike I decided to head northeast. At some point I would run into the river, which would lead me back to my trail. I finished the first bottle and resumed walking. The temperature continued to climb, humidity trapping sweat on my skin. The skitter of critters through the underbrush ceased and the bird songs faded into the heat. An eerie quiet settled in, tempered by the crunch of fallen twigs underfoot. My limbs felt dull and heavy and a thought repeated in my head. You should have stayed home. I was looking for a place to rest when I finally heard it. Running water. In spite of myself I picked up the pace, oblivious to the incline I'd been descending the past few minutes. Up ahead the canopy thinned, tree trunks spacing out along the edge of a clearing. Picking through the tall grass I emerged into the sunlight onto the smooth flat rocks forming the edge of the river. Marked with a boulder on the far bank was the entrance to the second trail. To my right, Lost River Falls. Fifteen feet up, the black shale outcropping curved into a gentle crescent. The lazy river curled over the edge in a soft, thin sheet, spilling into a shallow pool before funneling through a narrow channel to the river basin and snaking on downstream. Now high in the sky, the sun blazed the sparkling water white, casting a rainbow over the riverbank and a deep shadow on the vertical rock beneath the ledge. The gentle roar swelled in my ears. I intended to cross to the trail and head back, but it was so hot, and the mist in the air felt so enticing. I turned toward the falls, threading my way along the bank over the channel to the edge of the pool. On a rock nearby I set down my pack, flanking it with my boots moments later. Peeling of the sweat-soaked tee shirt I waded into the water. The pool was warmer than I expected, but much cooler than the air, instantly soothing my feet. I shuffled along the shale bottom until the water sloshed around my calves. Reaching out I pierced the curtain, splashing droplets over my face and chest. Drawing a deep breath, I closed my eyes and stepped into the falls. I stayed a minute, despite the chill, the water flushing the ick of the morning off my skin. It beat on my back and shoulders, leeching heat from my muscles and ache from my bones. I ducked under and out several times, like it was a rolling ocean wave on a Caribbean beach. Cleansed and refreshed, I returned to the rock. I rung out the shirt and laid it flat over the adjacent stone, then fished the second water bottle from the backpack. Bottle to my lips I soaked up the view. Vibrant green forest, shimmering white water, worn black rock winding through the landscape. I smiled to myself. Sure it was hot, but it beat the hell out of being stuck in the warehouse. The snap of a twig behind me drew my attention. Setting the bottle on the backpack I glanced over my shoulder and caught a figure crossing my periphery on the opposite bank. Shielding my eyes, I turned for a better look. And was not disappointed. At the far end of the crescent in a bright blue skort and a radiant white rash guard stood the brunette from the restaurant. She had clearly been hiking for some time. Her skin glistened with sweat, and the glossy fabric of her shirt clung to every curve of her torso. Her legs – long and lean – planted her firmly on the uneven ground. Her curls were tied back in a ponytail, exposing her face to the sun. I couldn't help but stare. She looked like a model in a Patagonia catalog. And it took only a moment before all I could think about was her in that blue dress, slouched in that chair, sipping her drink while showing me the world. The shriek of a hawk overhead broke my trance. I found her smiling at me, her head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised. Flustered, I acknowledged her presence and turned away. I needed to collect my shit and go; salvage whatever was left of my dignity. I stuffed the bottle back in the pack and shook out my shirt, hauling it on over my head. Soon it would weigh me down and I would need to take it off, but for now it was a cold towel on the back of my neck and that was just fine. Something disturbed the water behind me. Snapping up the backpack I turned to investigate. She stood before the falls, her back to me, gazing up at the gleaming ribbon spilling from above. The bands of a black sports bra crisscrossed her back, the rash guard scrunched in her fist was tossed casually into the grass on the far bank. Her hands disappeared in front of her, then reappeared above her head, taking the sports bra with them. Tipping her head back, she eased into the liquid curtain. The water sheared around her, cutting a sexy silhouette in the high noon sun. My cock stirred to life, craving the view from the other side of the falls. I knew I should get moving – I didn't want to be busted again. But something gripped me, held me in place, my imagination in overdrive. “Still just looking, huh.” I whipped my head back and forth searching for the source of the voice, before realizing it could only have one origin. I turned back. She had stepped back from the water, her fingers twisting round her ponytail, pulling out the band. With a flip of her wrists her curls burst out, slapping down over her back. She peered over her shoulder. A chill shot down my spine. Her eyes narrowed, the corners of mouth creasing up. She skimmed her hands along her sides and over her hips until her thumbs hooked in the waistband of her skort and the material bunched in her fists. She tugged them down slowly, a perfectly rounded bare ass rising like a sunrise over the fabric horizon. Watching me, she straightened up, skort slipping down her legs into the pool. “You know,” she said, tipping her head back, “it's better over here.” My dick strained against my shorts, drawn like a magnet to that little gap between the tops of her thighs and the base of her cheeks. She returned to the falls, disappearing under the water. The backpack slipped from my fingers, sluffing off the rock and into the grass. My head spinning, I waded toward her. She emerged from the cascade facing me. Rivulets of water streamed down her face. They trickled over her breasts; firm and high on her chest, dark nipples pointed upward, soliciting a touch. The streams continued down the flat of her belly, curling in at her hips and under her mound, before spiraling round her thighs and calves and melting into the pool. She poked two fingers under my chin and lifted it. “My eyes are up here.” “Sorry,” I replied, just a little nervous. “I'm easily distracted.” Her bright baby blues lingered on my face a moment before roaming down my body to the prominent bulge below my waist. Looking up, she smiled. “But not shy, I see.” She peeled off my shirt and threw it aside, then flattened her hands against my skin. They were soft, and cool from the water, a welcome disruption of the sizzling heat. I reached out, skimming my hands over the base of her ribs, then down to her waist and the curve of her hips. She leaned in, pressing them into mine, trapping my erection between us. A twinge shot through my core. I sighed. She had me. My attention wandered up to her breasts, cupping one sumptuous orb in each palm. Her head lolled, eyes fluttering, biting her bottom lip. I gave a gentle squeeze, dimpling the flesh and rolling my thumbs across her nipples. Her chest thrust forward, a groan escaping her throat. Leaning over I swirled my tongue over one before suckling it into my mouth. She shivered beneath me, drawing her breath between her teeth. I traded one for the other, back and forth, marveling at the tone and texture of the most perfect pair I'd ever laid lips on. She clutched at the back of my head, insisting I continue teasing her while clumsily fumbling with the clasp on my waistband. I kneaded her breasts in my palms, their mass resisting, plumping into the space between my fingers. I growled, invigorated by the memory of how pliable the body can be in its youth. Winning her battle with the clasp she stripped off my shorts and sprang my cock from its fabric prison. It jumped at the brush of her wrist and flexed in her grip as she tried to close her slender fingers around the shaft. The heat radiated out, warming her fist. She exhaled in my ear and followed up with a whisper barely audible above the falls. “Fuck me.” I plucked her nipple from my mouth and looked her in the eyes. “Here?” “Right here,” she confirmed, “right now.” I glanced around the clearing and into the woods. “Are you sure?” She snatched my hand from her breast and shoved it between her legs, curling my middle finger and dragging it through her slit. She was soaked, slick with her cream. “Right now,” she repeated. My hips swung forward with no input from my brain, prodding her belly with the tip of my dick. “What if someone sees us?” She hooked her arms around my neck. A devilish smirk creased her lips. There is nothing sexier than a woman who knows exactly what she wants. Well,“ she said softly, “then we should make sure they get a good show.” She pulled herself tight to my chest, transferring her weight to my shoulders. I braced myself as her legs left the water – first one, then the other – wrapping themselves around my waist. I held her buttocks tight in each hand, my penis pressed flat against her labia. Shifting my weight and dipping my hips I maneuvered the tip between those velvety lower lips and thrust myself into her pussy. She gasped – her mouth round, eyes bulging – as her canal expanded to accommodate the intruder. She fit like a glove two sizes too small, squeezing me tighter than I'd felt in years. Her gaze locked with mine she ground against me, acclimating to my girth with tiny strokes. Her shock turned slowly to lust. I lifted her ass and pulled it down on my dick, matching my thrusts to the undulation of her hips. Her juices seeped around me, oozing out over my balls. She lowered her head, moaning into my neck. Warm and clammy, our skin clung together, friction heating whatever slivers of space remained between us. Her writhing shuffled us toward the falls. The air was cooler here. It drew me closer. And before I knew it, we entered the deluge. I bristled at the cold, muscles contracting, pushing my cock deeper inside. She leaned away, gaining more leverage to rock her hips. The water forked around her tits, pooling in the crook of our bodies before spilling over into the river. I carried her through a little further, flattening her against the black rock wall. We hit with a thud and a grunt, her legs slipping from their position. I dipped down and hooked my arms under her thighs, lifting and throwing her calves up over my shoulders. With something to brace her now I pulled my cock back, teasing her with the glans before plunging back in to the hilt. “Ugh.” Her spine curled backward, stretching her abdomen and pointing her toes. Her squeals were like spurs in my sides, pumping my penis through that slippery steaming tunnel. She glared at me, jaw clenched, lip quivering each time I crashed inside. Her breathing grew ragged and short. “Wha…,” she stammered, “wha…what's your name?” Fuck. We hadn't even introduced ourselves. I leaned in hard, pinning her back to the rock and her knees to her shoulders. “Lucas,” I said. Clasping my face in her hands she smashed her lips into mine. “Fuck me Lucas,” she growled. “Make me cum.” A wave rippled through my groin, clenching everything below my waist. I held her tight as I could, racking her frame with the force of each thrust. Her grunts were like drumbeats, the driving rhythm to the symphony of our encounter. Her body coiled and shook and flexed, faster and stronger with each passing moment until suddenly, everything froze. Her eyes rolled back in her head as her mouth gaped in a silent scream. Her legs trembled and her body shuddered, and her pussy gripped my cock like a vice as she gushed around it. She clawed my back, the sting of her nails accentuating each contraction. I nuzzled my head into the crook of her neck, holding on, riding out the storm. Finally, I felt her chest heave, heard the breath rush past my ear. Her body began to relax, her limbs growing heavy in my arms and around my neck. Short, sweet whimpers disintegrated into a delirious giggle, sprinkled with curses once her lips could form the words. I eased off her chest and loosened my hold, allowing her legs to slip off my shoulders. Like jelly they tumbled over my arms and out of my grasp, her feet splashing in the water below. I pinched her waist and held her up while she regained her balance. She touched her twitching fingers to my cheeks, her thumbs clipping at my lips. She smiled. But said nothing. Her hands slipped down to my chest and gave a gentle push. I pulled away, springing my cock from her furnace into the open air. She eyed it hungrily, bobbing before her, coated in her cream and glistening in the sunlight. Her gaze fixed she rolled her body, flattening her palms and smushing her boobs against the rock wall. She wiggled her feet apart and dipped her back, pushing that bubble butt into my groin and trapping my erection between her cheeks. She humped against me, slathering my penis in a warm sloppy mixture of pre-cum, grool and sweat. The shivering thrill coursed through my shaft. My stomach flopped and my balls tightened, anxious to release their boiling burden. Prying her buttocks apart I leveled my dick and plunged it back into her pussy. She screamed into her shoulder, leaving teeth marks in her skin. She sagged at the knees, changing the shape of her channel and scrubbing new sensations into my glans. I clutched her hips in both hands, mesmerized by the curves of her ass, rippling with each collision. The urgency of our undulations increased, and it occurred to me that I wouldn't be able to enjoy this much longer. She threw herself back, impaling her sodden vagina on my cock. The squelching pricked my ears. Her whimpers and moans raised the hair on my arms. And soon my entire body buzzed with the current of an orgasm coiling to strike. I curled forward, laying my weight on her back. Skimming her belly I cupped her breasts, relishing the firmness in my fingers and tugging them down as I thrust up inside. With only moments before I'd lose control I pressed my lips against her ear. “What's your name,” I whispered. She gasped, her pussy constricting around my shaft. “Devon,” she panted, turning her head. Our eyes met. I held myself still inside her. “Suck my cock Devon,” I growled. “Make me cum.” She responded immediately, squirming out of my grasp and twisting around, sinking to her haunches. Her lips sealed around my dick, gliding up and down with ease, her tongue curling around the underside of the head and rod. My neck craned, jaw tight, muscles straining. I gathered fistfuls of her hair and scrunched it on the top of her head. The dam burst. And a summer's worth of hot, thick cum erupted into her mouth. The release roiled me to my core; my hips convulsing, penis throbbing. Rope after rope burst from my dick, each shot a miniature climax amplifying the whole. Her lips kept moving, up to my glans and down to the root, milking every drop she could. I could feel her throat working, trying to keep up. But there was too much to contain, and it spilled from the corners of her mouth and down her chin to her tits. I struggled to keep my balance. My head was spinning and my heart was pounding, and I didn't recognize the noises escaping my throat. I hoped the waterfall would cover them because I couldn't hold them in. I tried to pull away, but she dug her fingers into the meat of my ass, fixing me in place and draining my balls into her cheeks. Eventually the maelstrom subsided. The last remaining strands of cum oozed out over her tongue, pooling together for one final swallow. Dexterity returning to my fingers I raked hair out of her face and flipped it gently over her shoulders. She looked up at me, brazen and cool, clearly enjoying the fruits of her labor almost as much as I was. She slipped her lips off my cock with an audible pop. Watching me carefully she twisted her neck and worked her way down to the base of the shaft, slurping each testicle into her mouth. My dick skipped across her face, catching on her nose and leaving fine white threads in her dark manicured eyebrows. She continued for several minutes, working her lips and tongue, bathing my balls and polishing my penis with her saliva. It didn't take long before my erection was again as hard as it was when she'd freed it from my shorts. It ached in the heat of her mouth. Doubling over I took hold of her head and gently pulled away. She looked up at me. Pouted. I sighed, my lips breaking into a broad smile. She returned the gesture, adding a flip of her eyebrows. Releasing her I maneuvered past, slumping against the wall. I gathered myself, chest swelling with the rising mist. My head began to clear, my body relax, soothed by the colossal dopamine release that I only now discerned I was unfortunately too unfamiliar with. Devon straightened up beside me, unsteady on wobbly legs. She mimicked my pose and stretched her neck, delighting in the sunlight baking her face. Snaking a hand between her thighs she scooped out her cum with her middle finger and sensually tucked it into her mouth. She looked over, eyes lively, lips puckered around the digit. With her free hand she took hold of mine and backed away, dragging me with her under the falls. We showered together in the river, cooling our lust and rinsing away the evidence. We lingered in the water until we were cold before separating to recover our clothes. Five minutes and a few stolen glances later we met again at the trail marker on the far bank. We stood there together in awkward silence – strangely so, considering the intimacy of what we had done. Finally, I broke the ice. “It was umm…nice to meet you,” I offered, shifting the straps of the backpack over my shoulders. She looked away, smiling, picking at the hem of her skort. “Same,” she replied. I waited for more, but there was none. “I had a good time,” I added, unsure of why. She turned her head toward me. Nodded a little. “Not bad for an old guy.” “Oh wow,” I laughed, rubbing my palms in my eyes. She giggled next to me. Draping her arms around my neck she stretched up and kissed me on the lips. “What?” she protested. “I like old guys.” She unzipped the pocket in her skort and fished around inside. Withdrawing a key card, she pressed it into my palm. “Springhill,” she said. “Room 404. Come by around 10:00 – if you're interested.” I squeezed her hand in mine. “What about your friends,” I asked. She shrugged, bouncing her eyebrows. “Maybe they'll like you too.” by TheSleepingKing for Literotica. story audio, podcast, tryst, fling, spontaneous, stranger, anonymous, hike, park, vacation, kansas, waterfall, public, exhibitionist, seduction,
A scorching outdoor encounter in the dog days of summer. by TheSleepingKing. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. You know the worst thing about the Midwest? August. Sure, there are other things. But after three straight weeks of 98 degrees and 90% humidity you don't really care that Kansas is a thing. You just want out – to escape the stifling grassland; preferably to a place where you don't need to swim through the steam to reach the next air-conditioned oasis. Where I work we need to maintain a minimum staffing level to fulfill our obligations. So vacation requests are handled on a first come first serve basis. First person to request time off gets first pick of available dates. Usually I get in early, guaranteeing myself at least one week that I want. But by the time I remembered to request this year, my only option for a summer break was the final week in August.Monday and Tuesday were a bust. Too hot to leave the house. I tried Monday morning, heading out to my favorite brunch spot for an omelet. But after burning my hand on the gear shift lever at 10:00 am I decided to pack it in. The weather app promised cooler temperatures mid-to-late-week, so I set about crafting a plan to salvage what was left of my vacation. There's a state park a few hours north, on the edge of a popular college town. I'd hiked there several times before. It was quiet, with a decent elevation and full tree canopy, and a 15-foot waterfall at the crux of the two longest trails. Temps in the mid-eighties were still warmer than I preferred. But after months of being stuck in a warehouse 10 hours a day, a little time outside seemed…necessary. I texted my friend Natalie, curious if she'd want to tag along. She was fun, outdoorsy, and never seemed too busy for an adventure. And sometimes, if we'd both had a few drinks, you might find her with her head in my lap, cock in her mouth and my fingers slowly circling her clit; agreeing this was a great way to spend an evening. But this time I struck out. I was on my own. I'd have to make the best of it. Every hotel in town was booked for Friday night (damn college football weekend), so I reserved a room for Wednesday and Thursday and headed out after lunch. Two hours and three Interstates later I pulled into a parking lot already half-filled with cars. I intended to drop my bag in the room and lap the short trail before dinner. That plan screeched to halt the moment I shut off the car. Cooler temperatures midweek my ass. It was 90 degrees at 4:15. The air saturated my clothes as I trudged across the pavement, and by the time I arrived at the check-in desk I knew I was done for the day. Cranking up the air in the room I decided to catch up on some streaming shows before heading across the parking lot to a local burger joint for a lite supper. But soon the sun disappeared behind a fortress of darkened clouds. The wind whipped up and the rain poured down in sheets, lashing the windows and transforming the parking lot into a rippling black pond. I watched for a while, checking the weather report to find nothing about precipitation. If Thursday was anything like this…. Eventually the rain stopped, and I headed out for dinner. It was cooler now – high 70s or so, and the squall had dried the air enough for the wind to wick away the water instead of steaming me in a sauna. I picked a seat in the corner of the restaurant patio and settled in for a meal. The dining room filled up quickly. Mostly locals – you could tell by the comfortable clothes and their rapport with the bartenders. But midway through my second beer, three young women rounded the corner from the waiting area, following the hostess to a four-top across the aisle from me beneath the center awning. And they were obviously based somewhere else. Two of them looked similar, (sisters maybe? cousins?) with straight blonde hair and big broad smiles. They dressed like they'd come straight from the yacht club: white shorts, striped navy tees and deck shoes; one with a denim jacket, the other in a hat. The third was taller with rectangular glasses, buoyant, gently curled auburn hair, and a short powder blue A-line summer dress accentuating the tone and length of her legs. She caught me looking as they stopped at their table. I turned away quickly, smiling to myself, disappointed, yet amused that I wasn't as discrete as I used to be. I took a full swig of beer and set the mug gently on the coaster before glancing back toward their table. The brunette had switched places with her friends, taking the seat on the far side of the circle, just about facing me. For a while I kept my eyes to myself. They ordered drinks and struck up a lively conversation. My burger and fries arrived, and I concentrated on securing the toppings so as not to make a fool of myself the first time I bit into it. But as I worked my way through the meal my attention began to wander. First to the parking lot. Then to the bar. And finally, to the beauty at the table twelve feet away. I stole glances between french fries and over the rim of my glass, careful to look away the moment before she turned her head or shifted her eyes toward me. Despite my best efforts she caught me once or twice. I flashed a smile, she did the same, we both looked away until the next time it happened. I was always drawn back. Her face was so bright, skin glowing in the warmth of the pendant lights. She shifted in her chair, slouching a little, stretching her legs to the edge of the aisle and crossing them at the ankles. Her dress rode high up her thighs, the shadow of the fabric and the table above shielding me from what lay beneath. I pretended I hadn't noticed, drawing out a sip of beer until she returned to her conversation. Inappropriate thoughts crept through my mind. I prodded them, trying to keep them at bay. She was at least ten – if not fifteen years younger. I was here to hike, not ogle women just barely out of college. The waiter stopped by my table, asking if I needed anything. I should have asked for the cheque. It would have been the smart thing to do. Instead, I asked for ice cream. It was still warm out, seemed reasonable. A few minutes later I spotted him heading my way, a tray with a tall bowl and several margaritas balanced on one hand. As he stopped to set the bowl in front of me, movement behind him caught my eye. I looked past to the ladies' table to catch the brunette uncross her ankles and ease her outside leg into the aisle, her knees drifting apart just far enough to show me smooth, plump pussy lips unencumbered by fabric or modesty. I froze, staring. Drinking it in. “Everything okay sir,” the waiter inquired, snapping me back to the moment. I tore my eyes away and looked up, then down at the ice cream, then up again, trying to reset my brain. “Yes,” I replied, “thank you. It looks…delicious.” I don't think I was talking about ice cream. And from the way his forehead wrinkled I think he knew that. I dipped the spoon in and took a bite. He nodded and moved past me to the table waiting on drinks. Staring at the bowl I tried to collect my thoughts. But all I could picture was the perfect pocket of pleasure framed between those gently tanned thighs. I lifted my head. Her legs remained splayed, treasure visible. Leaning back in her seat she lifted one foot, skimming her calf up over her shin until one knee rested over the other, closing the curtain on my view. Our gaze met. The corners of her mouth curled up and her eyebrows shrugged, and I felt the stir in my groin as I realized that perhaps…I was meant to see what I saw. I smiled a little. Then stopped. Her friends had turned to watch me, giggling into the hands covering their mouths. I scooped a spoonful of ice cream and shoved it into mine, staring at the table. Nothing like looking creepy in front of attractive women half your age. I decided to finish my dessert and keep my eyes to myself, get back to my room before embarrassing myself further. Before I could execute my plan, the women settled their tab and left. Through the glass I watched them skip across the parking lot toward the hotel, laughing with each other along the way. Something slipped from the brunette's swinging hand, and when she stooped to pick it up she looked back in my direction. I flinched, wanting to turn away. But I couldn't. She was mesmerizing. She flashed a smile, then ran to catch up with her friends. I waited until I was sure they were settled in their rooms before heading back to mine. I ambled into the bathroom and checked myself in the mirror. I was in good shape for 40 plus. Ten years ago I might have made a pass at them; bought them a round, slid over to their table, try to talk one into joining me in my room. Instead…I took a shower, cranked up the air conditioning, and went to bed. Thursday morning I grabbed some apples from the breakfast bar, threw on a tee shirt and cargo shorts and prepared to hit the trail. It was a little after 8:00, about 75 degrees. The weather app promised 85 by 2:00 pm, which gave me plenty of time to loop the long trails before the heat became oppressive. Armed with two frozen water bottles and the fruit in a small backpack I caught a ride share to the park and headed out. The forest was teaming with life. Birds of all feathers chattered in the trees while rabbits and squirrels and other small creatures darted about in the in the brush below. The canopy was lush and thick, filtering much of the early light and heavily shading the first few miles, making for a pleasant hike. But the trail was overgrown from nearly two years of under use. The deeper I forged into the trees the more difficult it became to stay on track. And the leaves that earlier shielded me from the sun now trapped its heat beneath them, turning a warm walk in a light breeze into a hot slog through a noisy sauna. I didn't remember the route as well as I thought, and before I knew it, I was lost. I took a seat on a fallen log and fished a bottle out of the backpack. The ice had melted but the water was still cool. After half the bottle I traded it for my phone and tried to figure out where the hell I was. Reception was spotty and the GPS couldn't decide between several locations. From the lay of the land and direction of my hike I decided to head northeast. At some point I would run into the river, which would lead me back to my trail. I finished the first bottle and resumed walking. The temperature continued to climb, humidity trapping sweat on my skin. The skitter of critters through the underbrush ceased and the bird songs faded into the heat. An eerie quiet settled in, tempered by the crunch of fallen twigs underfoot. My limbs felt dull and heavy and a thought repeated in my head. You should have stayed home. I was looking for a place to rest when I finally heard it. Running water. In spite of myself I picked up the pace, oblivious to the incline I'd been descending the past few minutes. Up ahead the canopy thinned, tree trunks spacing out along the edge of a clearing. Picking through the tall grass I emerged into the sunlight onto the smooth flat rocks forming the edge of the river. Marked with a boulder on the far bank was the entrance to the second trail. To my right, Lost River Falls. Fifteen feet up, the black shale outcropping curved into a gentle crescent. The lazy river curled over the edge in a soft, thin sheet, spilling into a shallow pool before funneling through a narrow channel to the river basin and snaking on downstream. Now high in the sky, the sun blazed the sparkling water white, casting a rainbow over the riverbank and a deep shadow on the vertical rock beneath the ledge. The gentle roar swelled in my ears. I intended to cross to the trail and head back, but it was so hot, and the mist in the air felt so enticing. I turned toward the falls, threading my way along the bank over the channel to the edge of the pool. On a rock nearby I set down my pack, flanking it with my boots moments later. Peeling of the sweat-soaked tee shirt I waded into the water. The pool was warmer than I expected, but much cooler than the air, instantly soothing my feet. I shuffled along the shale bottom until the water sloshed around my calves. Reaching out I pierced the curtain, splashing droplets over my face and chest. Drawing a deep breath, I closed my eyes and stepped into the falls. I stayed a minute, despite the chill, the water flushing the ick of the morning off my skin. It beat on my back and shoulders, leeching heat from my muscles and ache from my bones. I ducked under and out several times, like it was a rolling ocean wave on a Caribbean beach. Cleansed and refreshed, I returned to the rock. I rung out the shirt and laid it flat over the adjacent stone, then fished the second water bottle from the backpack. Bottle to my lips I soaked up the view. Vibrant green forest, shimmering white water, worn black rock winding through the landscape. I smiled to myself. Sure it was hot, but it beat the hell out of being stuck in the warehouse. The snap of a twig behind me drew my attention. Setting the bottle on the backpack I glanced over my shoulder and caught a figure crossing my periphery on the opposite bank. Shielding my eyes, I turned for a better look. And was not disappointed. At the far end of the crescent in a bright blue skort and a radiant white rash guard stood the brunette from the restaurant. She had clearly been hiking for some time. Her skin glistened with sweat, and the glossy fabric of her shirt clung to every curve of her torso. Her legs – long and lean – planted her firmly on the uneven ground. Her curls were tied back in a ponytail, exposing her face to the sun. I couldn't help but stare. She looked like a model in a Patagonia catalog. And it took only a moment before all I could think about was her in that blue dress, slouched in that chair, sipping her drink while showing me the world. The shriek of a hawk overhead broke my trance. I found her smiling at me, her head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised. Flustered, I acknowledged her presence and turned away. I needed to collect my shit and go; salvage whatever was left of my dignity. I stuffed the bottle back in the pack and shook out my shirt, hauling it on over my head. Soon it would weigh me down and I would need to take it off, but for now it was a cold towel on the back of my neck and that was just fine. Something disturbed the water behind me. Snapping up the backpack I turned to investigate. She stood before the falls, her back to me, gazing up at the gleaming ribbon spilling from above. The bands of a black sports bra crisscrossed her back, the rash guard scrunched in her fist was tossed casually into the grass on the far bank. Her hands disappeared in front of her, then reappeared above her head, taking the sports bra with them. Tipping her head back, she eased into the liquid curtain. The water sheared around her, cutting a sexy silhouette in the high noon sun. My cock stirred to life, craving the view from the other side of the falls. I knew I should get moving – I didn't want to be busted again. But something gripped me, held me in place, my imagination in overdrive. “Still just looking, huh.” I whipped my head back and forth searching for the source of the voice, before realizing it could only have one origin. I turned back. She had stepped back from the water, her fingers twisting round her ponytail, pulling out the band. With a flip of her wrists her curls burst out, slapping down over her back. She peered over her shoulder. A chill shot down my spine. Her eyes narrowed, the corners of mouth creasing up. She skimmed her hands along her sides and over her hips until her thumbs hooked in the waistband of her skort and the material bunched in her fists. She tugged them down slowly, a perfectly rounded bare ass rising like a sunrise over the fabric horizon. Watching me, she straightened up, skort slipping down her legs into the pool. “You know,” she said, tipping her head back, “it's better over here.” My dick strained against my shorts, drawn like a magnet to that little gap between the tops of her thighs and the base of her cheeks. She returned to the falls, disappearing under the water. The backpack slipped from my fingers, sluffing off the rock and into the grass. My head spinning, I waded toward her. She emerged from the cascade facing me. Rivulets of water streamed down her face. They trickled over her breasts; firm and high on her chest, dark nipples pointed upward, soliciting a touch. The streams continued down the flat of her belly, curling in at her hips and under her mound, before spiraling round her thighs and calves and melting into the pool. She poked two fingers under my chin and lifted it. “My eyes are up here.” “Sorry,” I replied, just a little nervous. “I'm easily distracted.” Her bright baby blues lingered on my face a moment before roaming down my body to the prominent bulge below my waist. Looking up, she smiled. “But not shy, I see.” She peeled off my shirt and threw it aside, then flattened her hands against my skin. They were soft, and cool from the water, a welcome disruption of the sizzling heat. I reached out, skimming my hands over the base of her ribs, then down to her waist and the curve of her hips. She leaned in, pressing them into mine, trapping my erection between us. A twinge shot through my core. I sighed. She had me. My attention wandered up to her breasts, cupping one sumptuous orb in each palm. Her head lolled, eyes fluttering, biting her bottom lip. I gave a gentle squeeze, dimpling the flesh and rolling my thumbs across her nipples. Her chest thrust forward, a groan escaping her throat. Leaning over I swirled my tongue over one before suckling it into my mouth. She shivered beneath me, drawing her breath between her teeth. I traded one for the other, back and forth, marveling at the tone and texture of the most perfect pair I'd ever laid lips on. She clutched at the back of my head, insisting I continue teasing her while clumsily fumbling with the clasp on my waistband. I kneaded her breasts in my palms, their mass resisting, plumping into the space between my fingers. I growled, invigorated by the memory of how pliable the body can be in its youth. Winning her battle with the clasp she stripped off my shorts and sprang my cock from its fabric prison. It jumped at the brush of her wrist and flexed in her grip as she tried to close her slender fingers around the shaft. The heat radiated out, warming her fist. She exhaled in my ear and followed up with a whisper barely audible above the falls. “Fuck me.” I plucked her nipple from my mouth and looked her in the eyes. “Here?” “Right here,” she confirmed, “right now.” I glanced around the clearing and into the woods. “Are you sure?” She snatched my hand from her breast and shoved it between her legs, curling my middle finger and dragging it through her slit. She was soaked, slick with her cream. “Right now,” she repeated. My hips swung forward with no input from my brain, prodding her belly with the tip of my dick. “What if someone sees us?” She hooked her arms around my neck. A devilish smirk creased her lips. There is nothing sexier than a woman who knows exactly what she wants. Well,“ she said softly, “then we should make sure they get a good show.” She pulled herself tight to my chest, transferring her weight to my shoulders. I braced myself as her legs left the water – first one, then the other – wrapping themselves around my waist. I held her buttocks tight in each hand, my penis pressed flat against her labia. Shifting my weight and dipping my hips I maneuvered the tip between those velvety lower lips and thrust myself into her pussy. She gasped – her mouth round, eyes bulging – as her canal expanded to accommodate the intruder. She fit like a glove two sizes too small, squeezing me tighter than I'd felt in years. Her gaze locked with mine she ground against me, acclimating to my girth with tiny strokes. Her shock turned slowly to lust. I lifted her ass and pulled it down on my dick, matching my thrusts to the undulation of her hips. Her juices seeped around me, oozing out over my balls. She lowered her head, moaning into my neck. Warm and clammy, our skin clung together, friction heating whatever slivers of space remained between us. Her writhing shuffled us toward the falls. The air was cooler here. It drew me closer. And before I knew it, we entered the deluge. I bristled at the cold, muscles contracting, pushing my cock deeper inside. She leaned away, gaining more leverage to rock her hips. The water forked around her tits, pooling in the crook of our bodies before spilling over into the river. I carried her through a little further, flattening her against the black rock wall. We hit with a thud and a grunt, her legs slipping from their position. I dipped down and hooked my arms under her thighs, lifting and throwing her calves up over my shoulders. With something to brace her now I pulled my cock back, teasing her with the glans before plunging back in to the hilt. “Ugh.” Her spine curled backward, stretching her abdomen and pointing her toes. Her squeals were like spurs in my sides, pumping my penis through that slippery steaming tunnel. She glared at me, jaw clenched, lip quivering each time I crashed inside. Her breathing grew ragged and short. “Wha…,” she stammered, “wha…what's your name?” Fuck. We hadn't even introduced ourselves. I leaned in hard, pinning her back to the rock and her knees to her shoulders. “Lucas,” I said. Clasping my face in her hands she smashed her lips into mine. “Fuck me Lucas,” she growled. “Make me cum.” A wave rippled through my groin, clenching everything below my waist. I held her tight as I could, racking her frame with the force of each thrust. Her grunts were like drumbeats, the driving rhythm to the symphony of our encounter. Her body coiled and shook and flexed, faster and stronger with each passing moment until suddenly, everything froze. Her eyes rolled back in her head as her mouth gaped in a silent scream. Her legs trembled and her body shuddered, and her pussy gripped my cock like a vice as she gushed around it. She clawed my back, the sting of her nails accentuating each contraction. I nuzzled my head into the crook of her neck, holding on, riding out the storm. Finally, I felt her chest heave, heard the breath rush past my ear. Her body began to relax, her limbs growing heavy in my arms and around my neck. Short, sweet whimpers disintegrated into a delirious giggle, sprinkled with curses once her lips could form the words. I eased off her chest and loosened my hold, allowing her legs to slip off my shoulders. Like jelly they tumbled over my arms and out of my grasp, her feet splashing in the water below. I pinched her waist and held her up while she regained her balance. She touched her twitching fingers to my cheeks, her thumbs clipping at my lips. She smiled. But said nothing. Her hands slipped down to my chest and gave a gentle push. I pulled away, springing my cock from her furnace into the open air. She eyed it hungrily, bobbing before her, coated in her cream and glistening in the sunlight. Her gaze fixed she rolled her body, flattening her palms and smushing her boobs against the rock wall. She wiggled her feet apart and dipped her back, pushing that bubble butt into my groin and trapping my erection between her cheeks. She humped against me, slathering my penis in a warm sloppy mixture of pre-cum, grool and sweat. The shivering thrill coursed through my shaft. My stomach flopped and my balls tightened, anxious to release their boiling burden. Prying her buttocks apart I leveled my dick and plunged it back into her pussy. She screamed into her shoulder, leaving teeth marks in her skin. She sagged at the knees, changing the shape of her channel and scrubbing new sensations into my glans. I clutched her hips in both hands, mesmerized by the curves of her ass, rippling with each collision. The urgency of our undulations increased, and it occurred to me that I wouldn't be able to enjoy this much longer. She threw herself back, impaling her sodden vagina on my cock. The squelching pricked my ears. Her whimpers and moans raised the hair on my arms. And soon my entire body buzzed with the current of an orgasm coiling to strike. I curled forward, laying my weight on her back. Skimming her belly I cupped her breasts, relishing the firmness in my fingers and tugging them down as I thrust up inside. With only moments before I'd lose control I pressed my lips against her ear. “What's your name,” I whispered. She gasped, her pussy constricting around my shaft. “Devon,” she panted, turning her head. Our eyes met. I held myself still inside her. “Suck my cock Devon,” I growled. “Make me cum.” She responded immediately, squirming out of my grasp and twisting around, sinking to her haunches. Her lips sealed around my dick, gliding up and down with ease, her tongue curling around the underside of the head and rod. My neck craned, jaw tight, muscles straining. I gathered fistfuls of her hair and scrunched it on the top of her head. The dam burst. And a summer's worth of hot, thick cum erupted into her mouth. The release roiled me to my core; my hips convulsing, penis throbbing. Rope after rope burst from my dick, each shot a miniature climax amplifying the whole. Her lips kept moving, up to my glans and down to the root, milking every drop she could. I could feel her throat working, trying to keep up. But there was too much to contain, and it spilled from the corners of her mouth and down her chin to her tits. I struggled to keep my balance. My head was spinning and my heart was pounding, and I didn't recognize the noises escaping my throat. I hoped the waterfall would cover them because I couldn't hold them in. I tried to pull away, but she dug her fingers into the meat of my ass, fixing me in place and draining my balls into her cheeks. Eventually the maelstrom subsided. The last remaining strands of cum oozed out over her tongue, pooling together for one final swallow. Dexterity returning to my fingers I raked hair out of her face and flipped it gently over her shoulders. She looked up at me, brazen and cool, clearly enjoying the fruits of her labor almost as much as I was. She slipped her lips off my cock with an audible pop. Watching me carefully she twisted her neck and worked her way down to the base of the shaft, slurping each testicle into her mouth. My dick skipped across her face, catching on her nose and leaving fine white threads in her dark manicured eyebrows. She continued for several minutes, working her lips and tongue, bathing my balls and polishing my penis with her saliva. It didn't take long before my erection was again as hard as it was when she'd freed it from my shorts. It ached in the heat of her mouth. Doubling over I took hold of her head and gently pulled away. She looked up at me. Pouted. I sighed, my lips breaking into a broad smile. She returned the gesture, adding a flip of her eyebrows. Releasing her I maneuvered past, slumping against the wall. I gathered myself, chest swelling with the rising mist. My head began to clear, my body relax, soothed by the colossal dopamine release that I only now discerned I was unfortunately too unfamiliar with. Devon straightened up beside me, unsteady on wobbly legs. She mimicked my pose and stretched her neck, delighting in the sunlight baking her face. Snaking a hand between her thighs she scooped out her cum with her middle finger and sensually tucked it into her mouth. She looked over, eyes lively, lips puckered around the digit. With her free hand she took hold of mine and backed away, dragging me with her under the falls. We showered together in the river, cooling our lust and rinsing away the evidence. We lingered in the water until we were cold before separating to recover our clothes. Five minutes and a few stolen glances later we met again at the trail marker on the far bank. We stood there together in awkward silence – strangely so, considering the intimacy of what we had done. Finally, I broke the ice. “It was umm…nice to meet you,” I offered, shifting the straps of the backpack over my shoulders. She looked away, smiling, picking at the hem of her skort. “Same,” she replied. I waited for more, but there was none. “I had a good time,” I added, unsure of why. She turned her head toward me. Nodded a little. “Not bad for an old guy.” “Oh wow,” I laughed, rubbing my palms in my eyes. She giggled next to me. Draping her arms around my neck she stretched up and kissed me on the lips. “What?” she protested. “I like old guys.” She unzipped the pocket in her skort and fished around inside. Withdrawing a key card, she pressed it into my palm. “Springhill,” she said. “Room 404. Come by around 10:00 – if you're interested.” I squeezed her hand in mine. “What about your friends,” I asked. She shrugged, bouncing her eyebrows. “Maybe they'll like you too.” by TheSleepingKing for Literotica. story audio, podcast, tryst, fling, spontaneous, stranger, anonymous, hike, park, vacation, kansas, waterfall, public, exhibitionist, seduction,
A scorching outdoor encounter in the dog days of summer. by TheSleepingKing. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. You know the worst thing about the Midwest? August. Sure, there are other things. But after three straight weeks of 98 degrees and 90% humidity you don't really care that Kansas is a thing. You just want out – to escape the stifling grassland; preferably to a place where you don't need to swim through the steam to reach the next air-conditioned oasis. Where I work we need to maintain a minimum staffing level to fulfill our obligations. So vacation requests are handled on a first come first serve basis. First person to request time off gets first pick of available dates. Usually I get in early, guaranteeing myself at least one week that I want. But by the time I remembered to request this year, my only option for a summer break was the final week in August.Monday and Tuesday were a bust. Too hot to leave the house. I tried Monday morning, heading out to my favorite brunch spot for an omelet. But after burning my hand on the gear shift lever at 10:00 am I decided to pack it in. The weather app promised cooler temperatures mid-to-late-week, so I set about crafting a plan to salvage what was left of my vacation. There's a state park a few hours north, on the edge of a popular college town. I'd hiked there several times before. It was quiet, with a decent elevation and full tree canopy, and a 15-foot waterfall at the crux of the two longest trails. Temps in the mid-eighties were still warmer than I preferred. But after months of being stuck in a warehouse 10 hours a day, a little time outside seemed…necessary. I texted my friend Natalie, curious if she'd want to tag along. She was fun, outdoorsy, and never seemed too busy for an adventure. And sometimes, if we'd both had a few drinks, you might find her with her head in my lap, cock in her mouth and my fingers slowly circling her clit; agreeing this was a great way to spend an evening. But this time I struck out. I was on my own. I'd have to make the best of it. Every hotel in town was booked for Friday night (damn college football weekend), so I reserved a room for Wednesday and Thursday and headed out after lunch. Two hours and three Interstates later I pulled into a parking lot already half-filled with cars. I intended to drop my bag in the room and lap the short trail before dinner. That plan screeched to halt the moment I shut off the car. Cooler temperatures midweek my ass. It was 90 degrees at 4:15. The air saturated my clothes as I trudged across the pavement, and by the time I arrived at the check-in desk I knew I was done for the day. Cranking up the air in the room I decided to catch up on some streaming shows before heading across the parking lot to a local burger joint for a lite supper. But soon the sun disappeared behind a fortress of darkened clouds. The wind whipped up and the rain poured down in sheets, lashing the windows and transforming the parking lot into a rippling black pond. I watched for a while, checking the weather report to find nothing about precipitation. If Thursday was anything like this…. Eventually the rain stopped, and I headed out for dinner. It was cooler now – high 70s or so, and the squall had dried the air enough for the wind to wick away the water instead of steaming me in a sauna. I picked a seat in the corner of the restaurant patio and settled in for a meal. The dining room filled up quickly. Mostly locals – you could tell by the comfortable clothes and their rapport with the bartenders. But midway through my second beer, three young women rounded the corner from the waiting area, following the hostess to a four-top across the aisle from me beneath the center awning. And they were obviously based somewhere else. Two of them looked similar, (sisters maybe? cousins?) with straight blonde hair and big broad smiles. They dressed like they'd come straight from the yacht club: white shorts, striped navy tees and deck shoes; one with a denim jacket, the other in a hat. The third was taller with rectangular glasses, buoyant, gently curled auburn hair, and a short powder blue A-line summer dress accentuating the tone and length of her legs. She caught me looking as they stopped at their table. I turned away quickly, smiling to myself, disappointed, yet amused that I wasn't as discrete as I used to be. I took a full swig of beer and set the mug gently on the coaster before glancing back toward their table. The brunette had switched places with her friends, taking the seat on the far side of the circle, just about facing me. For a while I kept my eyes to myself. They ordered drinks and struck up a lively conversation. My burger and fries arrived, and I concentrated on securing the toppings so as not to make a fool of myself the first time I bit into it. But as I worked my way through the meal my attention began to wander. First to the parking lot. Then to the bar. And finally, to the beauty at the table twelve feet away. I stole glances between french fries and over the rim of my glass, careful to look away the moment before she turned her head or shifted her eyes toward me. Despite my best efforts she caught me once or twice. I flashed a smile, she did the same, we both looked away until the next time it happened. I was always drawn back. Her face was so bright, skin glowing in the warmth of the pendant lights. She shifted in her chair, slouching a little, stretching her legs to the edge of the aisle and crossing them at the ankles. Her dress rode high up her thighs, the shadow of the fabric and the table above shielding me from what lay beneath. I pretended I hadn't noticed, drawing out a sip of beer until she returned to her conversation. Inappropriate thoughts crept through my mind. I prodded them, trying to keep them at bay. She was at least ten – if not fifteen years younger. I was here to hike, not ogle women just barely out of college. The waiter stopped by my table, asking if I needed anything. I should have asked for the cheque. It would have been the smart thing to do. Instead, I asked for ice cream. It was still warm out, seemed reasonable. A few minutes later I spotted him heading my way, a tray with a tall bowl and several margaritas balanced on one hand. As he stopped to set the bowl in front of me, movement behind him caught my eye. I looked past to the ladies' table to catch the brunette uncross her ankles and ease her outside leg into the aisle, her knees drifting apart just far enough to show me smooth, plump pussy lips unencumbered by fabric or modesty. I froze, staring. Drinking it in. “Everything okay sir,” the waiter inquired, snapping me back to the moment. I tore my eyes away and looked up, then down at the ice cream, then up again, trying to reset my brain. “Yes,” I replied, “thank you. It looks…delicious.” I don't think I was talking about ice cream. And from the way his forehead wrinkled I think he knew that. I dipped the spoon in and took a bite. He nodded and moved past me to the table waiting on drinks. Staring at the bowl I tried to collect my thoughts. But all I could picture was the perfect pocket of pleasure framed between those gently tanned thighs. I lifted my head. Her legs remained splayed, treasure visible. Leaning back in her seat she lifted one foot, skimming her calf up over her shin until one knee rested over the other, closing the curtain on my view. Our gaze met. The corners of her mouth curled up and her eyebrows shrugged, and I felt the stir in my groin as I realized that perhaps…I was meant to see what I saw. I smiled a little. Then stopped. Her friends had turned to watch me, giggling into the hands covering their mouths. I scooped a spoonful of ice cream and shoved it into mine, staring at the table. Nothing like looking creepy in front of attractive women half your age. I decided to finish my dessert and keep my eyes to myself, get back to my room before embarrassing myself further. Before I could execute my plan, the women settled their tab and left. Through the glass I watched them skip across the parking lot toward the hotel, laughing with each other along the way. Something slipped from the brunette's swinging hand, and when she stooped to pick it up she looked back in my direction. I flinched, wanting to turn away. But I couldn't. She was mesmerizing. She flashed a smile, then ran to catch up with her friends. I waited until I was sure they were settled in their rooms before heading back to mine. I ambled into the bathroom and checked myself in the mirror. I was in good shape for 40 plus. Ten years ago I might have made a pass at them; bought them a round, slid over to their table, try to talk one into joining me in my room. Instead…I took a shower, cranked up the air conditioning, and went to bed. Thursday morning I grabbed some apples from the breakfast bar, threw on a tee shirt and cargo shorts and prepared to hit the trail. It was a little after 8:00, about 75 degrees. The weather app promised 85 by 2:00 pm, which gave me plenty of time to loop the long trails before the heat became oppressive. Armed with two frozen water bottles and the fruit in a small backpack I caught a ride share to the park and headed out. The forest was teaming with life. Birds of all feathers chattered in the trees while rabbits and squirrels and other small creatures darted about in the in the brush below. The canopy was lush and thick, filtering much of the early light and heavily shading the first few miles, making for a pleasant hike. But the trail was overgrown from nearly two years of under use. The deeper I forged into the trees the more difficult it became to stay on track. And the leaves that earlier shielded me from the sun now trapped its heat beneath them, turning a warm walk in a light breeze into a hot slog through a noisy sauna. I didn't remember the route as well as I thought, and before I knew it, I was lost. I took a seat on a fallen log and fished a bottle out of the backpack. The ice had melted but the water was still cool. After half the bottle I traded it for my phone and tried to figure out where the hell I was. Reception was spotty and the GPS couldn't decide between several locations. From the lay of the land and direction of my hike I decided to head northeast. At some point I would run into the river, which would lead me back to my trail. I finished the first bottle and resumed walking. The temperature continued to climb, humidity trapping sweat on my skin. The skitter of critters through the underbrush ceased and the bird songs faded into the heat. An eerie quiet settled in, tempered by the crunch of fallen twigs underfoot. My limbs felt dull and heavy and a thought repeated in my head. You should have stayed home. I was looking for a place to rest when I finally heard it. Running water. In spite of myself I picked up the pace, oblivious to the incline I'd been descending the past few minutes. Up ahead the canopy thinned, tree trunks spacing out along the edge of a clearing. Picking through the tall grass I emerged into the sunlight onto the smooth flat rocks forming the edge of the river. Marked with a boulder on the far bank was the entrance to the second trail. To my right, Lost River Falls. Fifteen feet up, the black shale outcropping curved into a gentle crescent. The lazy river curled over the edge in a soft, thin sheet, spilling into a shallow pool before funneling through a narrow channel to the river basin and snaking on downstream. Now high in the sky, the sun blazed the sparkling water white, casting a rainbow over the riverbank and a deep shadow on the vertical rock beneath the ledge. The gentle roar swelled in my ears. I intended to cross to the trail and head back, but it was so hot, and the mist in the air felt so enticing. I turned toward the falls, threading my way along the bank over the channel to the edge of the pool. On a rock nearby I set down my pack, flanking it with my boots moments later. Peeling of the sweat-soaked tee shirt I waded into the water. The pool was warmer than I expected, but much cooler than the air, instantly soothing my feet. I shuffled along the shale bottom until the water sloshed around my calves. Reaching out I pierced the curtain, splashing droplets over my face and chest. Drawing a deep breath, I closed my eyes and stepped into the falls. I stayed a minute, despite the chill, the water flushing the ick of the morning off my skin. It beat on my back and shoulders, leeching heat from my muscles and ache from my bones. I ducked under and out several times, like it was a rolling ocean wave on a Caribbean beach. Cleansed and refreshed, I returned to the rock. I rung out the shirt and laid it flat over the adjacent stone, then fished the second water bottle from the backpack. Bottle to my lips I soaked up the view. Vibrant green forest, shimmering white water, worn black rock winding through the landscape. I smiled to myself. Sure it was hot, but it beat the hell out of being stuck in the warehouse. The snap of a twig behind me drew my attention. Setting the bottle on the backpack I glanced over my shoulder and caught a figure crossing my periphery on the opposite bank. Shielding my eyes, I turned for a better look. And was not disappointed. At the far end of the crescent in a bright blue skort and a radiant white rash guard stood the brunette from the restaurant. She had clearly been hiking for some time. Her skin glistened with sweat, and the glossy fabric of her shirt clung to every curve of her torso. Her legs – long and lean – planted her firmly on the uneven ground. Her curls were tied back in a ponytail, exposing her face to the sun. I couldn't help but stare. She looked like a model in a Patagonia catalog. And it took only a moment before all I could think about was her in that blue dress, slouched in that chair, sipping her drink while showing me the world. The shriek of a hawk overhead broke my trance. I found her smiling at me, her head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised. Flustered, I acknowledged her presence and turned away. I needed to collect my shit and go; salvage whatever was left of my dignity. I stuffed the bottle back in the pack and shook out my shirt, hauling it on over my head. Soon it would weigh me down and I would need to take it off, but for now it was a cold towel on the back of my neck and that was just fine. Something disturbed the water behind me. Snapping up the backpack I turned to investigate. She stood before the falls, her back to me, gazing up at the gleaming ribbon spilling from above. The bands of a black sports bra crisscrossed her back, the rash guard scrunched in her fist was tossed casually into the grass on the far bank. Her hands disappeared in front of her, then reappeared above her head, taking the sports bra with them. Tipping her head back, she eased into the liquid curtain. The water sheared around her, cutting a sexy silhouette in the high noon sun. My cock stirred to life, craving the view from the other side of the falls. I knew I should get moving – I didn't want to be busted again. But something gripped me, held me in place, my imagination in overdrive. “Still just looking, huh.” I whipped my head back and forth searching for the source of the voice, before realizing it could only have one origin. I turned back. She had stepped back from the water, her fingers twisting round her ponytail, pulling out the band. With a flip of her wrists her curls burst out, slapping down over her back. She peered over her shoulder. A chill shot down my spine. Her eyes narrowed, the corners of mouth creasing up. She skimmed her hands along her sides and over her hips until her thumbs hooked in the waistband of her skort and the material bunched in her fists. She tugged them down slowly, a perfectly rounded bare ass rising like a sunrise over the fabric horizon. Watching me, she straightened up, skort slipping down her legs into the pool. “You know,” she said, tipping her head back, “it's better over here.” My dick strained against my shorts, drawn like a magnet to that little gap between the tops of her thighs and the base of her cheeks. She returned to the falls, disappearing under the water. The backpack slipped from my fingers, sluffing off the rock and into the grass. My head spinning, I waded toward her. She emerged from the cascade facing me. Rivulets of water streamed down her face. They trickled over her breasts; firm and high on her chest, dark nipples pointed upward, soliciting a touch. The streams continued down the flat of her belly, curling in at her hips and under her mound, before spiraling round her thighs and calves and melting into the pool. She poked two fingers under my chin and lifted it. “My eyes are up here.” “Sorry,” I replied, just a little nervous. “I'm easily distracted.” Her bright baby blues lingered on my face a moment before roaming down my body to the prominent bulge below my waist. Looking up, she smiled. “But not shy, I see.” She peeled off my shirt and threw it aside, then flattened her hands against my skin. They were soft, and cool from the water, a welcome disruption of the sizzling heat. I reached out, skimming my hands over the base of her ribs, then down to her waist and the curve of her hips. She leaned in, pressing them into mine, trapping my erection between us. A twinge shot through my core. I sighed. She had me. My attention wandered up to her breasts, cupping one sumptuous orb in each palm. Her head lolled, eyes fluttering, biting her bottom lip. I gave a gentle squeeze, dimpling the flesh and rolling my thumbs across her nipples. Her chest thrust forward, a groan escaping her throat. Leaning over I swirled my tongue over one before suckling it into my mouth. She shivered beneath me, drawing her breath between her teeth. I traded one for the other, back and forth, marveling at the tone and texture of the most perfect pair I'd ever laid lips on. She clutched at the back of my head, insisting I continue teasing her while clumsily fumbling with the clasp on my waistband. I kneaded her breasts in my palms, their mass resisting, plumping into the space between my fingers. I growled, invigorated by the memory of how pliable the body can be in its youth. Winning her battle with the clasp she stripped off my shorts and sprang my cock from its fabric prison. It jumped at the brush of her wrist and flexed in her grip as she tried to close her slender fingers around the shaft. The heat radiated out, warming her fist. She exhaled in my ear and followed up with a whisper barely audible above the falls. “Fuck me.” I plucked her nipple from my mouth and looked her in the eyes. “Here?” “Right here,” she confirmed, “right now.” I glanced around the clearing and into the woods. “Are you sure?” She snatched my hand from her breast and shoved it between her legs, curling my middle finger and dragging it through her slit. She was soaked, slick with her cream. “Right now,” she repeated. My hips swung forward with no input from my brain, prodding her belly with the tip of my dick. “What if someone sees us?” She hooked her arms around my neck. A devilish smirk creased her lips. There is nothing sexier than a woman who knows exactly what she wants. Well,“ she said softly, “then we should make sure they get a good show.” She pulled herself tight to my chest, transferring her weight to my shoulders. I braced myself as her legs left the water – first one, then the other – wrapping themselves around my waist. I held her buttocks tight in each hand, my penis pressed flat against her labia. Shifting my weight and dipping my hips I maneuvered the tip between those velvety lower lips and thrust myself into her pussy. She gasped – her mouth round, eyes bulging – as her canal expanded to accommodate the intruder. She fit like a glove two sizes too small, squeezing me tighter than I'd felt in years. Her gaze locked with mine she ground against me, acclimating to my girth with tiny strokes. Her shock turned slowly to lust. I lifted her ass and pulled it down on my dick, matching my thrusts to the undulation of her hips. Her juices seeped around me, oozing out over my balls. She lowered her head, moaning into my neck. Warm and clammy, our skin clung together, friction heating whatever slivers of space remained between us. Her writhing shuffled us toward the falls. The air was cooler here. It drew me closer. And before I knew it, we entered the deluge. I bristled at the cold, muscles contracting, pushing my cock deeper inside. She leaned away, gaining more leverage to rock her hips. The water forked around her tits, pooling in the crook of our bodies before spilling over into the river. I carried her through a little further, flattening her against the black rock wall. We hit with a thud and a grunt, her legs slipping from their position. I dipped down and hooked my arms under her thighs, lifting and throwing her calves up over my shoulders. With something to brace her now I pulled my cock back, teasing her with the glans before plunging back in to the hilt. “Ugh.” Her spine curled backward, stretching her abdomen and pointing her toes. Her squeals were like spurs in my sides, pumping my penis through that slippery steaming tunnel. She glared at me, jaw clenched, lip quivering each time I crashed inside. Her breathing grew ragged and short. “Wha…,” she stammered, “wha…what's your name?” Fuck. We hadn't even introduced ourselves. I leaned in hard, pinning her back to the rock and her knees to her shoulders. “Lucas,” I said. Clasping my face in her hands she smashed her lips into mine. “Fuck me Lucas,” she growled. “Make me cum.” A wave rippled through my groin, clenching everything below my waist. I held her tight as I could, racking her frame with the force of each thrust. Her grunts were like drumbeats, the driving rhythm to the symphony of our encounter. Her body coiled and shook and flexed, faster and stronger with each passing moment until suddenly, everything froze. Her eyes rolled back in her head as her mouth gaped in a silent scream. Her legs trembled and her body shuddered, and her pussy gripped my cock like a vice as she gushed around it. She clawed my back, the sting of her nails accentuating each contraction. I nuzzled my head into the crook of her neck, holding on, riding out the storm. Finally, I felt her chest heave, heard the breath rush past my ear. Her body began to relax, her limbs growing heavy in my arms and around my neck. Short, sweet whimpers disintegrated into a delirious giggle, sprinkled with curses once her lips could form the words. I eased off her chest and loosened my hold, allowing her legs to slip off my shoulders. Like jelly they tumbled over my arms and out of my grasp, her feet splashing in the water below. I pinched her waist and held her up while she regained her balance. She touched her twitching fingers to my cheeks, her thumbs clipping at my lips. She smiled. But said nothing. Her hands slipped down to my chest and gave a gentle push. I pulled away, springing my cock from her furnace into the open air. She eyed it hungrily, bobbing before her, coated in her cream and glistening in the sunlight. Her gaze fixed she rolled her body, flattening her palms and smushing her boobs against the rock wall. She wiggled her feet apart and dipped her back, pushing that bubble butt into my groin and trapping my erection between her cheeks. She humped against me, slathering my penis in a warm sloppy mixture of pre-cum, grool and sweat. The shivering thrill coursed through my shaft. My stomach flopped and my balls tightened, anxious to release their boiling burden. Prying her buttocks apart I leveled my dick and plunged it back into her pussy. She screamed into her shoulder, leaving teeth marks in her skin. She sagged at the knees, changing the shape of her channel and scrubbing new sensations into my glans. I clutched her hips in both hands, mesmerized by the curves of her ass, rippling with each collision. The urgency of our undulations increased, and it occurred to me that I wouldn't be able to enjoy this much longer. She threw herself back, impaling her sodden vagina on my cock. The squelching pricked my ears. Her whimpers and moans raised the hair on my arms. And soon my entire body buzzed with the current of an orgasm coiling to strike. I curled forward, laying my weight on her back. Skimming her belly I cupped her breasts, relishing the firmness in my fingers and tugging them down as I thrust up inside. With only moments before I'd lose control I pressed my lips against her ear. “What's your name,” I whispered. She gasped, her pussy constricting around my shaft. “Devon,” she panted, turning her head. Our eyes met. I held myself still inside her. “Suck my cock Devon,” I growled. “Make me cum.” She responded immediately, squirming out of my grasp and twisting around, sinking to her haunches. Her lips sealed around my dick, gliding up and down with ease, her tongue curling around the underside of the head and rod. My neck craned, jaw tight, muscles straining. I gathered fistfuls of her hair and scrunched it on the top of her head. The dam burst. And a summer's worth of hot, thick cum erupted into her mouth. The release roiled me to my core; my hips convulsing, penis throbbing. Rope after rope burst from my dick, each shot a miniature climax amplifying the whole. Her lips kept moving, up to my glans and down to the root, milking every drop she could. I could feel her throat working, trying to keep up. But there was too much to contain, and it spilled from the corners of her mouth and down her chin to her tits. I struggled to keep my balance. My head was spinning and my heart was pounding, and I didn't recognize the noises escaping my throat. I hoped the waterfall would cover them because I couldn't hold them in. I tried to pull away, but she dug her fingers into the meat of my ass, fixing me in place and draining my balls into her cheeks. Eventually the maelstrom subsided. The last remaining strands of cum oozed out over her tongue, pooling together for one final swallow. Dexterity returning to my fingers I raked hair out of her face and flipped it gently over her shoulders. She looked up at me, brazen and cool, clearly enjoying the fruits of her labor almost as much as I was. She slipped her lips off my cock with an audible pop. Watching me carefully she twisted her neck and worked her way down to the base of the shaft, slurping each testicle into her mouth. My dick skipped across her face, catching on her nose and leaving fine white threads in her dark manicured eyebrows. She continued for several minutes, working her lips and tongue, bathing my balls and polishing my penis with her saliva. It didn't take long before my erection was again as hard as it was when she'd freed it from my shorts. It ached in the heat of her mouth. Doubling over I took hold of her head and gently pulled away. She looked up at me. Pouted. I sighed, my lips breaking into a broad smile. She returned the gesture, adding a flip of her eyebrows. Releasing her I maneuvered past, slumping against the wall. I gathered myself, chest swelling with the rising mist. My head began to clear, my body relax, soothed by the colossal dopamine release that I only now discerned I was unfortunately too unfamiliar with. Devon straightened up beside me, unsteady on wobbly legs. She mimicked my pose and stretched her neck, delighting in the sunlight baking her face. Snaking a hand between her thighs she scooped out her cum with her middle finger and sensually tucked it into her mouth. She looked over, eyes lively, lips puckered around the digit. With her free hand she took hold of mine and backed away, dragging me with her under the falls. We showered together in the river, cooling our lust and rinsing away the evidence. We lingered in the water until we were cold before separating to recover our clothes. Five minutes and a few stolen glances later we met again at the trail marker on the far bank. We stood there together in awkward silence – strangely so, considering the intimacy of what we had done. Finally, I broke the ice. “It was umm…nice to meet you,” I offered, shifting the straps of the backpack over my shoulders. She looked away, smiling, picking at the hem of her skort. “Same,” she replied. I waited for more, but there was none. “I had a good time,” I added, unsure of why. She turned her head toward me. Nodded a little. “Not bad for an old guy.” “Oh wow,” I laughed, rubbing my palms in my eyes. She giggled next to me. Draping her arms around my neck she stretched up and kissed me on the lips. “What?” she protested. “I like old guys.” She unzipped the pocket in her skort and fished around inside. Withdrawing a key card, she pressed it into my palm. “Springhill,” she said. “Room 404. Come by around 10:00 – if you're interested.” I squeezed her hand in mine. “What about your friends,” I asked. She shrugged, bouncing her eyebrows. “Maybe they'll like you too.” by TheSleepingKing for Literotica. story audio, podcast, tryst, fling, spontaneous, stranger, anonymous, hike, park, vacation, kansas, waterfall, public, exhibitionist, seduction,
Motorists in Nigeria face huge queues at petrol stations across major cities as frustration grows over the multi-headed crises dragging on the country's economy. Also, known locally as the Mendzang, the xylophone has a small but dedicated following in Cameroon. And we head out on the road with the roaming chef and former Kenyan rugby star, Dennis Ombachi.
The boys break down a dramatic CDL Major 2, with OpTic Texas facing Atlanta FaZe in the grand finals. Scrappy and Drazah's beef gets SERIOUS, while Toronto Ultra and New York Subliners fall short of their expectations. 0:00:00 Intro 0:04:00 Invasion 0:10:00 Challengers 0:22:00 Snaking 0:35:00 Scrap v Drazah 1:20:00 Heretics 1:30:00 Boston 1:45:00 Seattle 1:53:00 LA Thieves 2:04:00 Vegas 2:28:00 Minnesota 2:39:00 Toronto 2:48:00 New York 3:00:30 OpTic vs FaZe
Tonight, Curt and Kevin recap the IndyCar test at Sebring. They talk about the possible lineup for Dale Coyne next year, including Jack Harvey. They also talk about the budget of some teams, and what drivers like Nolan Siegel bring to the table for a team like Dale Coyne. They also talk about Colin Braun and the possibility of him competing at IMS. They also talk about Callum Illot filling in for David Malukas at McLaren, and the reason Kevin thinks Illot will be the one in the seat come time for St. Pete. Later in the first hour of the show, Kevin and Curt talk about where some engineers will go next season. They talk about how teams must keep up with Arrow McLaren in engineering. Kevin also talks about the Indy 500's motto being stolen by F1, using a similar phrase: “the greatest spectacle in motorsports.” Kevin talks about how he thinks the errors in using IMS's motto were probably caused by someone in an entry level social media position may have done without thinking. Kevin rounds out the first hour previewing the second hour of the show. In the second hour of the show, Curt and Kevin talk about the new Josef Newgarden commercial, and the banning of the snaking maneuver that Newgarden used to win the Indy 500 last year. They talk about the nuance of the new rule, and how severe the punishment could be for the driver who goes below the line. They also talk about new video boards and other improvements coming to the track. During the second hour, Kevin talks about the Dan Wheldon documentary, and how Wheldon's sons are doing in racing. They also talk about a platform to sell tickets for IMS at face value without losing seniority. Kevin ends the show talking about an announcement Jackson Lee made today. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Snaking across 4,000 miles and 11 African countries, the River Nile is perhaps the most famous river on planet earth. The 80 billion gallons of water that flow through its banks each day give life to countless animals and ecosystems - from crocodiles and hippos, to rare species of fish, plants, and people. But who has tried to harness the power of this river, and why have so many failed? What cultures have grown from the Nile's waters? And why are emperors, prophets, writers, Kings and Queens, drawn to its famous banks? This is a Short History Of the River Nile. Written by Paul Kerensa. With thanks to Robert Twigger, author of Red Nile: A Biography of the World's Greatest River. Get every episode of Short History Of a week early with Noiser+. You'll also get ad-free listening, bonus material, and early access to shows across the Noiser network. Click the Noiser+ banner to get started. Or, if you're on Spotify or Android, go to noisier.com/subscriptions. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Welcome to Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gamed, and our Pathfinder 2nd Edition podcast. We are playing Wrath of the Righteous! It is a Pathfinder adventure path from 1st edition which we will be converting into Pathfinder 2nd Edition. Listen to us talk about what characters we are thinking of playing, as well as the work we already done to convert some of the player options. Listen to us joke around, talk shop, laugh, and have fun as we get amped up for our new campaign. Now the party knows that all the cultists are being ordered from the Queen, and she is wholed up in the central tower, the party just needs to find a way into the central tower. But it turns out that it is magically sealed, using old dwarven wards that only the royalty can arm. Nell, being the rightful ruler, can bypass such wards, but the other party members would be locked outside, so they are on a mission to steal that can temporarily brand them with the Queen's seal so they can join Nell inside the central tower. But, the city is crawling with cultists, along with the acidic rain that washes over the city on a regular bases. Will the party be able to gain access to the magic seals, or will they be discovered on their way to sealing the seals? Find out in the next episode of Wrath of the Righteous! With our Forever GM Jared leading the charge, Lets introduce our characters for this game, well, for as long as they survive! Fabio is playing the human Swashbuckler, Hennessy! Zach is playing the Human Psychic, Artura! Jeff is playing the hobgoblin Wizard, Sortok! Tina is playing the dwarf Inquisitor, Nell! A new homebrewed class from Atune-A-Wizard Press, where the rules can be purchased at Drive-Thru-RPG at Inquisitor Steve is playing the human champion, Sir Ren! Thanks to our sponsor Die Hard Dice you can use our discount code of SpicyNVNG that is good for 10% off your entire purchase!!! You can also ask us questions for our cast to answer on our podcast by contacting us through our socials below or emailing us directly at nvngpodcast@gmail.com Check out our new website, and our Socials below: https://www.nvngpodcast.com/ Facebook YouTube Twitter Instagram Twitch You can also find us on Spotify, iTunes, Apple Podcasts, and Google Play. Music provided by StreamBeats Synthwave albums Ego, Lone Wolf, Renegade, Breaker, and Sunset by Harris Heller/Senpai Records. https://www.streambeats.com/ Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gamed LLC, uses trademarks and/or copyrights owned by Paizo Inc., which are used under Paizo's Community Use Policy. We are expressly prohibited from charging you to use or access this content. This stream/podcast is not published, endorsed, or specifically approved by Paizo Inc. For more information about Paizo's Community Use Policy, please visit paizo.com/communityuse. For more information about Paizo Inc. and Paizo products, please visit paizo.com
A self-radicalized Chinese teenager was detained by the ISD for his white supremacist views. What caused this strange turn of events? Elsewhere, queues formed for new and fit-for-gifting notes for CNY; but why does this practice still persist?Find us here!YLB SubredditYLB TikTokYLB IGYLB YouTubeFolkloryV-DAY Alert! If you're looking for a meaningful gift, we'd love to help you create a personal podcast for that special someone. Get started at Folklory.comOrder by Wed, 31 Jan 2024 and get your Folklory by V-Day guaranteed!Chinese SG Teen Identifies as White SupremacistSelf-radicalised S'porean, 16, who identified as white supremacist, given restriction order under ISA16-year-old Singaporean who identified as white supremacist issued restriction order under ISA; second case of far-right radicalisationaskST: What is far-right extremist ideology and how did a S'porean teen become radicalised?Update on Terrorism-Related Cases Under the Internal Security ActFirst Singaporean who was detained for far-right extremist ideologies in 2020 released following rehabilitation programmeRising threat of far-right extremism could be worsened by global conflicts like Ukraine war: ISDShould We Use New Notes for CNY?Snaking queues at ATMs on 1st day for withdrawal of hongbao notesChoose Fit-for-Gifting Notes this Lunar New Year in Support of a Greener Future!One Shiok CommentComment by nyetkattComment by KirbyOngOne Shiok ThingWhy do I always spill my coffee? - Oxford SparksMan On The Run TrailerMics and Headphones from @shureChairs from @ergotunechairDesk from @castlerysgEdited and mixed by Tristen Yeak
On the 98th episode of the Ego Chall Podcast, Justin Binkowski and Preston Byers discuss the recent gentlemen's agreement (GA) to ban snaking in the Call of Duty League, Brice and Tunn announcing they will not be on the CDL broadcast this year, and the Minnesota RØKKR partnering with G2 Esports. The guys also give their predictions for the matches of the CDL's first week and end-of-season awards.
Call of Duty is BACK...well almost. Merk and Maven sit down with Atlanta FaZe Head Coach, Crowder to discuss the CDL 2024 season, the HUGE list of GA's and the changes FaZe made this offseason. Toronto Ultra The Merk and Maven Podcast - Season 2 Ep 21
This week on the podcast, Christopher is joined by Justin Holzgrove and Mike Rientjes from Mason County Public Utility District 3 in Washington State. The PUD provides electric service to more than 35,000 households across an area the size of Rhode Island, and began connecting its grid infrastructure to fiber in the late 1990s. Since 2003, it has operated an open access ftth network for households; an endeavor that has sped up since 2015, when residents began clamoring for more. To meet demand and plan for the future, PUD 3 uses a fiberhood approach and construction adders. ★ Support this podcast ★
Professional Esports Athlete & Call of Duty All-Star, Anthony "Methodz" Zinni, joins The Stocksmen to discuss his Italian roots in New Jersey, MLB dreams to CDL, joining OpTic Gaming, advice from HecZ, friendship with Scump, relationship with Nadeshot, The Breakdown, importance of mental health, Casey Neistat = Kevin Hart, his Donald Trump impression, why he retired, competing again & more 0:00 Intro 0:30 Welcome Methodz to Exclusive! 1:08 CDL Champs Prediction 2:15 Optic vs Faze Final?!
Snaking queues have been spreading across Nigeria's petrol stations after the new president Bola Tinubu announced the end of fuel subsidies on Monday. As panic buyers try to fill up their deposits amid fear of fuel shortages, we hear about the impact this is having on businesses.
We asked you something you find oddly satisfying? Is it shredding paper? Peeling stickers? Snaking the drain? We'll discuss all your responses. We learned what time security opens at Pearson, what the best day of the week to take off, and when a major US franchise is opening in Canada.
S02E16: "Fever" Original Airdate: 2/18/03 When Martha gets a lungful of that dank green while trying to hide the key to Clark's ship, Dr. Bryce does her best to find out what happened, as well as draw the attention of the DCA(CDC basically)who insist on doing a thorough investigation of the Kent property. When Clark greens out too, Chloe decides to tell him how she really feels…while he's unconscious. With Clark and Martha's lives on the line, DK pulls his sneaking suit out of mothballs to try to recover the key, hoping the ship can save them. Why does Lex have the key to Helen's office? Was a heavily secured army base really necessary to guard a bunch of farm stuff and Clarks spank towel? Where did Clark's blood end up? Kryptonite, not even once. Have questions, or comments? Leave a voice message for us on anchor, and we may play yours on an upcoming episode. Get in touch Web: anchor.fm/saveus Twitter: @saveuspod E-mail: saveuspod@gmail.com Music this week provided by Avery Alexander. You can find more of his work at https://youtube.com/c/xArcticxSilence --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/SaveUs/message
Newson's site refused planning, teachers dispute drags on, snaking queues for Ramsey pharmacies, planning committee vacancies & try being a firefighter. Mannin Line with Andy Wint #iom #manninline #manxradio
Welcome back to episode 51 of the VST podcast! Noah and Brandon are on todays show talking about sports as there is no shortage of sports news right now! To start the show they go over some quick hockey news and then jump right into the Stanley Cup Finals recap! they then move up to a season wrap up of the Avs and Bolts and what each team should do moving forward! They then move into some basketball as NBA free agency has just opened up and deals are flying. They go through all the deals that have happened so far and give their thoughts on them. They then finish up the pod with a fun episode of there top video games of all time!!As always we hope to see you back for next week!!Instagram - @valleysportstalkSupport the show
Dublin Airport estimates that at least 1,000 people missed flights yesterday due to massive queues outside Terminal 1 and 2 yesterday. Aideen spoke to passengers and Cathal Crowe Fianna Fail TD and Spokesperson for Aviation about what can be done to address the on going issues at Dublin Airport.
Xava is at a wedding in Texas so we're replaying a recent bonus episode. What are the various stages of male hyena transformation? What do our spines turn into after we die? Which animals are inherently naughty? Barukh HaShem, Michael is here to help us find out. Visit our website to ask us questions at xaihowareyou.com and call or Text the Talmud Hotline at 401-484-1619 and leave us a voicemail! Support us on patreon at patreon.com/xaihowareyou. Follow us on twitter @xaihowareyou and @miss_figured. Music by Ben Schreiber.
Alistair Bruce-Ball, Chris Sutton and Statman Dave chat the latest from the world of fantasy football. They discuss who you should be picking for your squads and try to help you navigate through playing your chips at the right time. Plus presenter Nick Bright pops by to talk beating Ali in the head-to-head league and play a game of Sutton Death.
Signe dagen! Like sikkert som julekjerringa i fjøset er dårlig oppførsel i vannet et tema som svinger innom spikerteltet med jevne mellomrom. I denne episoden tar ein tyske og høge ein kjapp samtale over kjøkkenbordet på Orre, før vi henter fram et gammelt opptak fra 2020 hvor Jaymin Rowlands og Sam de Fina (apropos dogging) orienterer om surfetikette. Shoutout til Ine Haugen som er på ballen, og takk til alle innspill via sosiale medier. Musikk av Daniel Malo og Freddy French Fries. NB: Siden første halvdel er spilt inn på kjøkkenet på Orre er lyden under pari, men det tåle dåkke.
I'm dreaming of a white Xmas. Just like the ones I used to blow. Up my nose so gently. Hit my neurons plenty. To catch s❄️ on my tongue. My tongue. I'm Scheming of a white Xmas. Just like the ones. Just like those. White lines. Going through my mind. All the while I think of truth. White lines. Snaking through my insides. White lines…go away. Sugar! Cane! Cocoa! In love with it, maing! Drug problem, okay! Okay! Free base. Thrill never gone. Kilos up my nose. Xmas times the best. White powder all around. Santa on that shit. Money gets imagined.People get elected. Hard as hell to avoid it. So might as well try it. When we singing about it. Get higher sonny boy! Sniff that shit up good. Or burn up inside a spoon. High crimes. Hi crimes. American white. China red. Mexican blue faced. Slowing that heart rate. Russian white. Laced with delight. Wrapping my presents under the satellites. How much do they know you ask? They know it all. You can't hide what is broadcast worldwide. Them signals are beaming 24-7. Them people are scheming --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app
How disgusted I am about snaking oil people that market online. An open heart podcast.... ======================= Join our Community: https://www.facebook.com/groups/growandscaleonlinecommunity Follow us: Website: www.themindbug.com YouTube: www.youtube.com/channel/UCuLCNxnsCPnOKnVCU4odbDQ Instagram: www.instagram.com/matteoandrenata Facebook: www.facebook.com/matteoandrenata If you would like to reach us via email: hello@themindbug.com Be Relentless! See you in the next episode!
The "Golden Rule" for Cash Buyers was discussed on this episode of the Real Estate Power Play Podcast with Mark Monroe, Ronald Walker, Marty Grizzanti, and Gabe Rodarte. Knowing real estate jargons and numbers, according to Mark Monroe, Ronald Walker, and Marty Grizzanti, is essential for being a credible realtor. They also included some advice for new wholesalers, such as the importance of first impressions and how to prevent self-sabotage in order to have a good and profitable trade.Another topic discussed on this episode of the Real Estate Power Play Podcast with Mark Monroe, Ronald Walker, Marty Grizzanti, and Gabe Rodarte was "Snaking the Deal" by Cash Buyers and how it should be avoided by any realtor. ARV (After Repair Value), Rehab, and the Potential Profit (Gross Profit) in a transaction were also discussed.On this episode of Real Estate Power Play Podcast with Mark Monroe, Ronald Walker, Marty Grizzanti, and Gabe Rodarte explains that there are occasions when people feel there's a profit to be made, and they'll try to snake the transaction. When the Buyer meets with the Seller to discuss the price of the agreement, it gives them the impression that the buyer might be able to get a better deal than the one on the contract. As a result, there's a chance that the agreement will be snagged. But by registering your interest with the state, you'll be able to protect it. Be cautious, but avoid self-sabotage. Be cool and tactful at the same time.On this episode of the Real Estate Power Play Podcast with Mark Monroe, Ronald Walker, and Marty Grizzanti They talked about:Working With BuyersTalking to Cash BuyersHow to sell your ideasHow to Partner with Other People to Sell Your Deals,Golden Rule for Cash BuyersSnaking DealsAvoid Self-sabotageConnect with Real Estate Power Play Podcast Hosts:Facebook: https://bit.ly/3mMZcAiMark Monroe: https://linktr.ee/markmonroeRonald Walker: https://bit.ly/3HLypwMMarty Grizzanti: https://bit.ly/3FJHggDGabe Rodarte: https://bit.ly/3HIezCq
Nicole's path to buying an electric car and how it is going so far, where to charge, how long it can drive, and how it all works. Plus snaking the basement drain and painting a picket fence. learn more about Nicole here: https://www.nicoleharkin.com/ www.nicoleharkinwriting.com www.niftygadgetsforfamilybikers.com Support GardenFork, become a monthly supporter on Patreon: http://patreon.com/gardenfork Discount coupon for Rad Power Bikes: http://rwrd.io/82nipf5?c My Stationary Bike https://amzn.to/3z0XQFN Toggle Bolts I Use: https://amzn.to/3D0Clr5 HASfit YouTube channel is my fav https://www.youtube.com/hasfit Also check out ACHV Peak and James Grange on YT Start your Amazon shopping here: https://amazon.com/shop/gardenfork Get My GardenFork Email Newsletter: https://www.gardenfork.tv/sign-up-for-our-email-newsletter/ GF Sweaters and T Shirts https://teespring.com/stores/gardenfork-2 Email me: radio@gardenfork.tv Snaking a drain to prepare for the coming wetter weather brings up a curious thing out of Nicole's drain. Plus painting a fence Watch us on YouTube: www.youtube.com/gardenfork GardenFork's Facebook Discussion group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1692616594342396/ Produced by Sean O'Neil http://seaninbrooklyn.com/ GardenFork Radio is produced by GardenFork Media LLC in Brooklyn, NY ©2021 All Rights Reserved GardenFork Media LLC Music is licensed from Unique Tracks and AudioBlocks.
Milo & Sam (aka the Burberry Brothers!) discuss as much of their crazy previous night as they can remember until a special caller helps to clear up the missing details.
Rob is joined by Jacob Berry (@bigjables) to talk about #DaughtersOfKhaine. Are they still Snaking to victory or is it just petty Bow Crime? Score Sheet Link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/18De-E0M-ao8NO0K2XGiyraeu5Wpm1-6y/view?usp=sharing Reference Sheet Link: http://weirdnobz.com/2021/06/21/update-plus-an-age-of-sigmar-reference-sheet/ The Honest Wargamer is an independent show, run by gamers, for gamers and supported by gamers. We don't accept sponsorship, so that you only get the best and most honest answers and opinions from us. If you would like to support us which we would be amazing then you can here -- https://www.patreon.com/TheHonestWargamer Available as a podcast on soundcloud/itunes/all podcast apps -- https://soundcloud.com/the-honest-wargamer Broadcasted live on Twitch -- Watch live at https://www.twitch.tv/thehonestwargamer We have spent a lot of time producing what we think is a fantastic website as a resource for gamers with lists and guides. We would love you to check it out -- https://thehonestwargamer.com/ We have our merchandise: https://thehonestwargamer.bigcartel.com/ #ageofsigmar, #howto, #faction, #scoresheet, #battletome, #competitive, #wargaming, #warhammer, #tournament, #grandstrategy, #morathi,
Think you have what it takes to be a professional bass angler? We have some tips from the pros. What in the world is snaking? Not sure we even want to know. And hear more about Over The Edge Outdoors. All this and more on this episode of The Bend! Episode 21 – March 27, […]
DRAMA! Hastro vs 100T, Thorin vs ALL CoD Pros, Jkap vs Hastro, CELLIUM SNAKING DRAMA, CDL Major 1 FULL bracket Predictions, and CDL SUPER WEEK BREAKDOWN! The Biggest Surprises and BEST PLAYERS in the GAME debate! OpTic vs Empire, FaZe vs 100T? SO MANY crazy options this weekend! ◾ Intro - 00:00 ◾ News of the Week - 4:05 || DRAMA (Hastro vs 100T, Thorin vs All of CoD, Jkap vs Hastro Contract Drama) // Miles doing content // CELLIUM SNAKING DRAMA (Cellium vs CoD Community and GA debate) // League Play Patch ◾ CDL SUPER WEEK WEEKEND BREAKDOWN - 32:30 || 1 GREAT and BAD (Player & Team) SURPRISE of CDL SUPER WEEK!! ◾ CDL Major 1 FULL BRACKET PREDICTIONS - 01:08:52 || Predicting a PERFECT bracket for CDL Major 1 ◾ Intelligent or IRRELEVANT - Most Likely to Win Major 1 100T? - 01:41:57 The Best of 3 CoD Esports Podcasts covers and its hosts Josh "SalvationsElite," Rex "ShadyNero," and Sam "Bash" cover all things Call of Duty Esports in regards to the Call of Duty League, Modern Warfare, patches, meta, gameplay, gamebattles, competitive gaming, the news of the official CoD League with all the pro teams like the Chicago Huntsman, Dallas Empire, Seattle Surge, LA OpTic Gaming, Atlanta FaZe, Minnesota Rokkr, NY Subliners, London Royal Ravens, Florida Mutineers, the LA Guerillas, Toronto Ultra and the Paris Legion! We do predictions and breaking news, updates, roster changes, free agency, trades, with players like Scump, Crimsix, Simp, Dashy, Skrapz, Octane, Abezy, Karma, Gunless, Arcitys, FormaL, ILLeY, Shotzzy, Prestinni, Clayster, Cellium, Priestahh, Attach, Zoomaa, Temp, Huke and others! So we'll talk about the Call of Duty league 2020, cdl, cdl news! We are a cdl podcast / Call of Duty Esports Podcast! Here's some other topics: The Best of 3 CoD Esports Podcast, best of 3 podcast, SalvationsElite, SalvationsElite podcast, call of duty league 2021, cdl, cdl news, cdl podcast, call of duty league podcast, cod podcast, call of duty podcast, cdl predictions, call of duty esports, professional cod, pro cod, comp cod, competitive cod, esports, esports news, esports podcast, and cod champs! -CONNECT- YOUTUBE Watch on YouTube HERE (https://www.youtube.com/salvationselite) TWITTER Follow Josh “SalvationsElite” - https://twitter.com/SalvationsElite Follow Rex “ShadyNero” - https://twitter.com/ShadyNero Follow Sam “Bash_Bo3” - https://twitter.com/Bash_BO3 PODCAST The Best of 3 CoD Esports Podcast is available on YouTube, Spotify, and Apple Podcasts and will be coming to more apps soon! Links here: APPLE: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-best-of-3-cod-esports-podcast/id1490028421 SPOTIFY https://open.spotify.com/show/7jgzkfT6uc7wyU2L4UCh0B?si=Z6XhfUCcQ2exwOgyjfJFDA ---------------- SALVATIONSELITE The DISCORD CoD Community Server! Join for community tourneys, live streams, finding teammates and more! https://discord.gg/wJh6BCC TWITTER -- https://twitter.com/salvationselite INSTAGRAM -- https://www.instagram.com/josh.roeloffs/ TWITCH -- https://www.twitch.tv/salvationselite DISCORD -- https://discord.gg/wJh6BCC #TheBestOf3Podcast #CoDEsports #CallofDutyLeague #podcast #CallofDuty #Esports #CoDPodcast #EsportsPodcast #CallofDutyEsports #CompetitiveCoD
You've seen it everywhere. The unending blinker. Snaking on highways. Road rage. Bad driving is all around us: This episode Bear and Bold will teach us how to be a better driver. Or at least they will try to.
Today on The Chris Bowlin Celebrity Segment, Chris Bowlin and Neil Haley will interview Celebrity Greg Ellis. With his jaw-dropping upcoming debate and interview with the President of the Proud Boys, Head of Antifa, and controversial journalist Andy Ngo this Sunday, August 2nd, we would love to arrange an interview with you and Emmy nominated Hollywood actor Greg Ellis (PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN, STAR TREK, TITANIC) who over the last year has set out on a journey to explore the condition of the modern male experience via his brand new video podcast, The Respondent. These are some of the most controversial figures in the world, and Greg Ellis is a disruptor who isn't afraid to confront and challenge them. Greg is available to share with you what people can expect in this upcoming lighting rod interview, and why he is doing it. Andy Ngo received national attention in 2019 while covering the culture war between Antifa and The Proud Boys when he was physically assaulted by counter-protesters at a Portland street rally. Following his discussion with Andy, Greg will be talking at the same time to the heads of both Antifa and the Proud Boys...sparks will fly. Greg's new video podcast series The Respondent explores masculinity, family law, parenting, sexuality, men's rights and more with celebrity, author, and expert interviews. Please see the trailer for The Respondent video podcast series here: The Respondent Trailer The Respondent covers many aspects of modern masculinity. Greg's mission is to provide some solace for forsaken fathers, forgotten husbands, and fallen men of the court system. His aims is to provide a practical psychological roadmap to those who haven't yet visited dystopia, so that they might navigate the bumpy roads of modern relationships more successfully, and better respond to the challenges facing them and the love offered them. Snaking through this commentary is Greg's own journey as he battles for his children in family court and heads ever closer to an outcome still coming into focus. Ellis has acted in films opposite Oscar winners Sir Anthony Hopkins and Geoffrey Rush, been directed by Academy Award winning film directors John Schlesinger, James Cameron and Robert Zemeckis, written for Stephen Fry, directed Kiefer Sutherland, and had memorable roles in billion dollar franchise movies like the Pirates of the Caribbean series, J.J. Abrams' Star Trek and Titanic. He was nominated for an Emmy Award for season 3 ensemble cast of the hit tv series 24 among many other small screen roles and is considered one of the most prolific interactive/video voice over actors in the world having worked on over 100 video game titles.
It’s 1994, an election year when violent crime is rampant, voters want action, and politicians smell blood. When a Latino teenager confesses to the murder of a pretty-boy cokehead outside a gay bar in L.A., the cops consider the case closed. But Benjamin Justice, a disgraced former reporter for the Los Angeles Times, sees something in the jailed boy others don’t. His former editor, Harry Brofsky, now toiling at the rival Los Angeles Sun, pries Justice from his alcoholic seclusion to help neophyte reporter Alexandra Templeton dig deeper into the story. But why would a seemingly decent kid confess to a brutal gang initiation killing if he wasn’t guilty? And how can Benjamin Justice possibly be trusted, given his central role in the Pulitzer scandal that destroyed his career? Snaking his way through shadowy neighborhoods and dubious suspects, he’s increasingly haunted by memories of his lover Jacques, whose death from AIDS six years earlier precipitated his fall from grace. As he unravels emotionally, Templeton attempts to solve the riddle of his dark past and ward off another meltdown as they race against a critical deadline to uncover and publish the truth.Awarded an Edgar by Mystery Writers of America for Best First Novel on initial release, this 25th Anniversary edition has been revised by the author. A foreword for the 2020 edition by Christopher Rice (Bone Music) is includedSupport this show http://supporter.acast.com/houseofmysteryradio. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.
Random question: Why would people deny science?! --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/chaoradio/message
--In this episode International talks about: Wyatt Earp’s gay mustache; Moving pictures & moving bowels; His Leatherman; Joseph Campbell’s underwear surprise; Glinda the Slutty Witch; Snaking people’s “feeling channel”; Saving 35 cents at Walmart; Rebelling against no one; His toxic obsession with Prime Day; Post-simulated jizz wad trauma --If that wasn’t enough, in this episode International also: Argues with Alfie; Admires his own tremendous acting talent; Does a Trump-Biden debate mashup; Gives his “no fun guaranteed” disclaimer (again); Wishes Eckhart Tolle didn’t put him to sleep so he could hear his message … and so much more, it’s crazy.
In this, second-ever episode of FNTASIA, we invited the content king NRG Ronaldo. We talked about his thoughts on Teammate Snaking, Creating Content and how he is going to play trio FNCS without a trio!
Crisco, Dez and Ryan: After Hours - Snaking the drain has a WHOLE NEW meaning!
It’s 1994, an election year when violent crime is rampant, voters want action, and politicians smell blood. When a Latino teenager confesses to the murder of a pretty-boy cokehead outside a gay bar in L.A., the cops consider the case closed. But Benjamin Justice, a disgraced former reporter for the Los Angeles Times, sees something in the jailed boy others don’t. His former editor, Harry Brofsky, now toiling at the rival Los Angeles Sun, pries Justice from his alcoholic seclusion to help neophyte reporter Alexandra Templeton dig deeper into the story. But why would a seemingly decent kid confess to a brutal gang initiation killing if he wasn’t guilty? And how can Benjamin Justice possibly be trusted, given his central role in the Pulitzer scandal that destroyed his career? Snaking his way through shadowy neighborhoods and dubious suspects, he’s increasingly haunted by memories of his lover Jacques, whose death from AIDS six years earlier precipitated his fall from grace. As he unravels emotionally, Templeton attempts to solve the riddle of his dark past and ward off another meltdown as they race against a critical deadline to uncover and publish the truth.Awarded an Edgar by Mystery Writers of America for Best First Novel on initial release, this 25th Anniversary edition has been revised by the author. A foreword for the 2020 edition by Christopher Rice (Bone Music) is included.“Politically pungent, exactly observed, and conceding little comfort, Wilson is heir to the shockingly unsentimental vision of Patricia Highsmith.” — Michael Bronski, Out Magazine“First-time novelist John Morgan Wilson hits a home run with his gritty tale of modern-day L.A.” — LambdaSupport this show http://supporter.acast.com/house-of-mystery-true-crime-history. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.
Jennifer Olmstead is Domestic Marketing Director and Public Relations for the California Walnut Board and Commission.
Joining the guys today we have Ikhide and Michael. Women really do be snakes lowkey, how you gonna let a man keep shooting his shot and then pop up with a boyfriend on Snapchat out of the blue? But at the end of the day 'God no go shame us' But to niggas out there, how do you feel about being the side? Chances are you'd get to be her main but would you really want that tho?... And what about friends with benefits? Emmanuel thinks that this is a dangerous game to play because you could very easily catch feelings for the hun... Clout... a very powerful drug. People would go to the craziest lengths to get some sort on internet fame. People are using corona, fake deaths and shit like that and it's hella fucked up. IG & Twitter: @sixes_world IG personals: @emmanuel_bakare_ @keji.gram @ikhideuajayi @m7khael --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/world-of-6s/message
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Snaking along the perimeter of an apartment complex, amaranth grows to harken to a peculiar sound emanating from a clothesline as a scar heals the roots of the persimmon tree in The Orange Grove. Find music at https://www.fiverr.com/humanature?up_rollout=true
Segment 1: NFL Week 13. Cowboys TNF debacle vs da Bears plus the Redskins dumpster fire NFC East Dreams. Titans – Colts go Harry Potter. The Nick Foles magical mystery tour, Dallas Go-Dirt, and the return of Eli Manning. When your team sucks, ABP, and finding other rooting interests. Patriots – Texans plus NE’s offensive struggles. Chiefs – Raiders BSE bets and a blocked EP. Ravens – 49ers throwdown, Tucker clutches up, and the importance of team chemistry. Tim Ryan’s Lamar Jackson comments, the PC Police, and Richard Sherman weighs in. Peloton ad induced Internet blowback. Bengals – Jets BSE. A black cat inspired Salud o’clock! Black Friday fun, a massive computer case, and purchase party entertainment. The Sports Brew Thanksgiving rewind of fail. UVA finally beats VA Tech. Failhorn Hokie tears get the Just the Way You Are treatment. Chopping off digits – the wrong kind of carving. Degloving bike accidents and double dipping with dear old dad. The worst Thanksgiving segment EVER. Frozen 2 Family Fun. Segment 2 (107.06): NFL Week 13 Plus CFP. Recovering from the worst Thanksgiving segment debacle… or not. Thanksgiving rewind. Bills – Cowboys. Saints – Falcons. Shy Tuttle stiff arms Matt Ryan into oblivion + the German broadcast laugh fest. Onside kick shenanigans. Dolphins – Eagles shocker plus kicker TD trickeration. Brown Friday failbuckets, daycare logs, and I got a snake! Frozen, Olaf, and potty training trades. NFC East BSE. The biggest team disappointments and letdowns so far this NFL season. Redskins – Panthers survival pool destruction. Steelers – Browns plus the Freddie Kitchens t-shirt fail. The Browns kick Chris Smith to the curb – a Cleveland PR fail. The Ryan Shazier and Devon Still context. Seahawks – Vikings, the Chargers contrast. Broncos – Chargers, a tough PI call, and a classic soiler alert. NCAAF and CFP throwdown! A Syracuse bad beat. Dear Tua – ROLLOUT! The CFP setup, conference championship time, and a stack of Jobu. Ohio State – Michigan and the struggles of Harbaugh. LSU – Texas A&M plus Burrow fanning the hammer. Another classic Iron Bowl, interesting officiating, Alabama melts down, and Auburn tears up the bush. Wrap up. Zach Wheeler to Philly, LeBron’s super travel, and the Redskins playing games with fan hearts. Bonus segment: Eagles fans freaking out over possibly losing to Eli Manning on MNF. Second wrap up with the D-Stat fart launcher 3000. 12-06-2019, MP3 format. This is how we Brew it: Join the Brew Crew @ www.facebook.com/SportsBrew Twitter: vasportsbrew Find us on Podbean, iTunes, Stitcher Radio, LiveSportscaster.com, and the Google Play Store - Key words: Sports Brew Cheers and beers flavored by Captain Morgan 100 Proof, Jack Daniels, Coca-Cola, Three Notch’d Brewing’s The Ghost APA, Sam Adams Octoberfest, Virginia Beer Company Vanilla Evil Santa Spiced Milk Stout with Vanilla Beans, River North Brewery’s Decennial: God Complex Belgian Quad, Flying Dog Bloodline Blood Orange Ale, and the general deliciousness of beer. #NFL #RVA #Redskins #Colts #Packers #Giants #Cowboys #Patriots #Rams #Eagles #49ers #Seahawks #Steelers #Broncos #Vikings #Chiefs #Browns #NBA #Duke #Wildcats #Beer #BabyShark #PSA #Excelsior #FTW #Zion #GoT #Hoos #GameOfThrones #Nats #FantasyFootball #Peloton #CFP
Jake Stenziano and Dylan Marma discuss the top 3 tips for performing due diligence. Key Information: Walk Every Unit Prevents sellers hiding shell units that could be staged as occupied or used for storage Verify upgrades in the units Snake the drain lines Snaking the drain is recording the path and see if there are blockages in the drains Prevents major capital expenditures Snake 50-75% of the drain lines Get Drone Footage Can pinpoint soft spots in the roof Great footage for marketing packet BONUS TIP: Perform Lease Audits See if renewals have been reflected Review applications to see if tenants were properly screened Invest with Rand Partners Follow Us on Instagram @Randpartners Follow Us on Facebook @Randpartners
TRUMP MUG: https://teespring.com/no-open-borders-trump-2020#pid=658&cid=102950&sid=backCheck out FEARLESS WEAR! Available for the next 3 days via @Teespring: https://tspr.ng/c/fearless-wearDONATE & SUPPORT: http://www.paypal.me/Fearless2005ORDER AFRICAN SHEA BUTTER: http://www.AfricanSheaButter.orgPROTECTION KNIVES: http://www.protectionknives.comVIMEO: https://vimeo.com/fearlessj1111talkORDER AFRICAN SHEA BUTTER: http://www.AfricanSheaButter.orgPATREON: PATREON: https://www.patreon.com/FearlessJ1111TalkINSTAGRAM: @IamFearless2005TWITTER: http://www.Twitter.com/FearlessJ2008TWITTER: https://www.twitter.com/FearlessJ1111FOLLOW ME ON SOUNDCLOUD: https://soundcloud.com/fearlessj1111FOLOW ME ON SPREAKER: http://www.spreaker.com/user/fearlessj1111FOLLOW ME ON WORDPRESS: https://fearlessj1111.blog#SecretSociety #Illuminati #Homosexuality #MaleProstitution
Snaking your drain might be enough to unclog your plumbing. Learn when a drain camera inspection is warranted. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Snaking your drain might be enough to unclog your plumbing. Learn when a drain camera inspection is warranted. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
The team is in Belize. Ember melts Belize. Palacine snakes one of her palace guards out of a crater. Silhouette bleeds to protect the team. Repeatedly. Also she’s really bad at comfort & support.
The crew delve into the din of villiany and dubcon that is the website "Archive of Our Own" to read a Jeff and Jane fan fiction. Then they discuss "Snaking", the new trending that might land you in hot water. There is then a discussion about a grizzly bear dating a manic pixie dream girl. Also, they discuss what would happen if Team Rocket worked in print media. This is the Fearfic Podcast, where talking Basement goo Slimebeast, inebriated interstellar traveler Abysmii, and irritable ghostly creep Dead Palette, read all stories horror and Internet related, paragraph by paragraph, and mess around while they do it. From adolescent revenge fantasies to subtle post modern narratives about real life events, and everything in between, we read it and critique.
In this episode our heroes deal with some sneaky snakes and Eithelos gets up to some shenanigans.
Rob and Dave go hard after Josh McDaniels for pulling out his handshake deal with the Colts, and on LeBron James for his recent quotes that are designed specifically to toy with Cleveland fans. Stand-up comedian Poppi Kramer (hardcore Giants fan) shares a heartwarming story honoring her Eagles fan friend's memory. And then literally nothing is heartwarming from then on. Also, why aren't there more two-sport athletes? Rob is very excited about one potential NFL star jumping ship. Thank You For The Reviews! Your reviews help other people find TKP, so you can brag to your friends about being the first to listen. You dang hipsters. So keep em coming on Apple Podcasts. Plus, the encourage us and make us smile. If you write something really funny, you may even be featured in next week's episode! Announcements: The Kicker Podcast is now a twice weekly show, every Tuesday and Thursday! You asked for it, so you got it! Help us give you more of what you love and take our brief audience survey! Ask Your Questions Or Share With Us Email podcast@thekicker.com for all questions and comments! Or, connect with us on Facebook! Connect With TKP Subscribe to The Kicker Podcast on Apple Podcasts, it's the best way to keep up with all things TKP! Also available on your app of choice, including: Stitcher, TuneIn, Google Play, and more! Follow us The Kicker on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram for more hilarious sports content. Watch The Extra Point with Rob King on YouTube, every Monday afternoon!
Shrikant presents a drastically different perspective about the recent hullabaloo over a stinky foot on someone else's armrest. What's the equivalent of the saying, "cut your coat according to your cloth" in Hindi? #SahiBoltaShrikant #RJShrikant #Radio #MH935 #RedFM #Pune #BajaateRaho
Sounds from deep in the heart of the Australian rainforest. Situated near the famous Glass House Mountains and not far from the beaches of Noosa Heads, Kondalilla Falls provides an unexpected diversion from the more popular spots. Though the creek is small, at nearly 300 feet, it is an impressive waterfall by any standard. There are swimming pools at the top and bottom and the surrounding rainforest is filled with all the sounds you would imagine in such a lush location. This recording was taking a kilometer or two further in to the jungle from the falls. You can just hear the creek gurgling away in the distance in some of the quieter moments. But the best bits come when the thunder rolls in as if to punctuate the growing intensity of the heat, humidity and incessant volume grinding out of the forest. The falls lie along Queenland’s Great Walks system of trails. Snaking their way through the state’s warm subtropical rainforest, you will also encounter tall open eucalypt forest and picturesque waterfalls along your route between the various established bush camp sites. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.
Merry Muth F****in Christmas! This week on The HYpE Podcast we debate which Christmas movie is more Christmasy, Home Alone or Die Hard!! Plus! Find out what Oso wants to do in life after DJing. Don't' miss this week's episode of The Hype Podcast
Things have been busted pretty much ever since the beginning, but they seem to be getting even crazier lately. Shit’s fucked, man! You know what they say about being out of touch when living in a cave or whatever? That is starting to sound more appealing by the hour. This show is kind of a reflection of the present state of things: it shows little regard for the good of humankind. Noisy, raunchy and kaput; fast, slow and everything in between. The only thing that’s different is this: It’s fun when WE do it-sorry… when SATAN makes us do it… Listen NOW and head straight back to living under a rock later. -- www.facebook.com/SatanMadeMeDoItDJ -- -- www.instagram.com/satan_made_me_do_it_dj/ -- www.radioquantica.com -- Satan Made Me Do It #22 – -- Disembody To The Abyss | Sabbat (JAP) | Fetishism, 1994 https://www.facebook.com/sabbatofficial -- Fight Fire With Fire | Metallica (USA) | Ride the Lightning, 1984 https://www.facebook.com/Metallica -- Storm of Witchcraft | Malleus (USA) | Storm of Witchcraft, 2017 https://bloodharvestrecords.bandcamp.com/album/storm-of-witchcraft-12lp-cd-mc -- Black Death | Saudade (CAN) | From the Mist...We are but Dust [split], 2017 https://ironboneheadproductions.bandcamp.com/album/sunspell-saudade-from-the-mist-we-are-but-dust -- Efter Obduktionen | Undergang (DNK) | Misantropologi, 2017 https://darkdescentrecords.bandcamp.com/album/misantropologi -- Capri Sancti | Xantotol (POL) | Thus Spake Zaratustra [EP], 1995 https://www.facebook.com/XANTOTOL-192824290752856/ -- Snaking the Sky | Abygor (BRA) | The Faces of Pentagram [Demo], 1992 https://www.discogs.com/artist/3512665-Abygor -- Nekrolog | Tudor (CZE) | Ultra Black Metal [Compilation], 2005 http://www.phb-art.com/tudor/ -- Sewer | Ruin (USA) | Drown in Blood, 2017 https://bloodharvestrecords.bandcamp.com/album/drown-in-blood-12lp -- Mystic Charms | Mystic Charm (NLD) | Shadows of the Unknown, 1994 https://www.discogs.com/Mystic-Charm-Shadows-Of-The-Unknown/master/551588 -- Satanic Panic | Strange Broue (CAN) | Seance – The Satanic Sounds of Strange Broue, 2017 https://strangebroue.bandcamp.com/ -- The Abrasive Black Dust | Suffering Hour (USA) | In Passing Ascension, 2017 https://bloodharvestrecords.bandcamp.com/album/in-passing-ascension-cd-12lp -- HellBound | Pantera (USA) | Reinventing the Steel, 2000 https://www.facebook.com/Pantera/ -- Visual Aggression | Celtic Frost (CH) | Emperor’s Return [EP], 1985 http://www.celticfrost.com/ -- Born of Thorns | Necroholocaust (CAN) | Receiving the Unholy Communion [Split], 2011 https://www.facebook.com/necrogoatworship -- Planed Head | Minotaur (GER) | The Slaughter Continues [Demo], 1986 https://www.facebook.com/MINOTAUR-Official-85557527284/ -- Time of the Moon | Vomit Angel (DNK) | Sadomatic Evil, 2017 https://ironboneheadproductions.bandcamp.com/album/vomit-angel-sadomatic-evil -- Two-two | Super Heavy Metal (NOR) | Music for Cymbals, 2016 http://hubromusic.com/super-heavy-metal-music-for-cymbals/ -- Earth is a Cage | The Body & Full of Hell (USA) | Ascending a Mountain of Heavy Light, 2017 https://thebody.bandcamp.com/album/ascending-a-mountain-of-heavy-light -- Burning Cold | Damad (USA) | Burning Cold, 2000 https://www.facebook.com/DAMAD-506254746123660/ -- Ruptured Silence | Dystopia (USA) | Dystopia [Demo], 1992 https://www.discogs.com/Dystopia-Dystopia/release/2876675 -- El Canto De Los Sepulcros | Reencarnación (COL) | Reencarnación, 1988 https://www.discogs.com/artist/1393064-Reencarnacion -- Da Brandoa Com Ódio | Irae (PT) | Crimes Against Humanity, 2017 https://altare.pt/compact-disc/irae-por-crimes-against-humanity-digipack-cd-html -- Roundup® Orgia | Desflorestação (FRA/CH) | Parking Lot, 2017 https://labareda.bandcamp.com/album/parking-lot -- Scúru Fitchádu | Scúru Fitchádu (PT) | Scúru Fitchádu, 2016 https://scurufitchadu.bandcamp.com/ -- Snowfall | Darkthrone (NOR) | A New Dimension [Demo], 1988 https://www.facebook.com/Darkthrone-101075189934422/
1. Interview with Spencer 2. It goes down in the DM (2:32) 3. Snaking tricks (7:03) 4. Story time - Supra in Australia (9:17) 5. In the Streets with Ty James ft. Ian Twa (12:20) 6. Vegan vs Meat (18:15) 7. Modelling career? (19:56) 8. Rapid Fire with Da Ghost (22:35) 9. Post Office (27:30) 10. The Rundown - Conor McGregor wins, Carlos Beltran's new hair, Lebron pokes at Jordan, Tony Romo already hurt(34:47)
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