Podcasts about straddling

Cast-aways At College: part 2Survivors savor the joy of living, and their bravery turns to romantic discovery.By SilverFoxMullet.Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.Luckily for me, my room was on the ground floor, as my building has no elevators. I had my key on a lanyard around my neck, and I unlocked the door. I let her precede me inside, and I shut the door once I got in. She looked around the room, which I usually keep fairly neat, but lately it’s been immaculate. I am not as active with crutches, so I’ve stayed in a fair bit the last couple of weeks. And I clean when I get bored.“Your room is so neat. I expected, um, sorry, a pigsty. You know, ‘guy’?”“It’s not usually this nice, but I’ve been staying in a lot recently." Tapping my cast for emphasis.She looked at my leg, then asked "Can I sign your cast?”“Only if I can sign yours." I negotiated."Deal. Got a pen?” She inquired.“Desk, top drawer." I responded, and suddenly thought. Oh No. "Uh, I’ll get one for you.”She was too quick, you know, having moveable feet and all, and she pulled the drawer open. First thing she sees is the unopened box of condoms my dorm buddies gave me for Christmas. Her eyebrows rose, and she put a finger on the still-sealed box. Then she turned bright red, and picked up a sharpie.“Your cast is covered up, I can’t get at it.” she said in a slightly quavering voice. She looked nervous and fidgety. I knew I was nervous as all hell. That box of condoms was meant as a joke, as I was notorious for not getting anywhere with the ladies. I’d kissed a couple of girls, but that was as far as I’d ever gotten. I just wasn’t able to pursue them the way other guys did. I always backed off. Just couldn’t put myself forward like that.I looked down at my leg, covered by the sweatpants. It took every ounce of bravery I could muster to open my mouth and say the words. “I’ll have to uncover it I guess.”She knelt in front of me. I could see how nervous she was. Hell, I could feel how nervous I was. “Suzanne? I, uh, I never-”“Me too." She affirmed.I looked in her eyes and asked; "Are you sure?”“Yes.” she said, and she reached for my waistband.“Wait.” I interrupted.She stopped, and had a fearful expression on her face, like I’d just said something that hurt her. Damn, that hurts me, to see her look of feeling rejected.“Let me get on the bed first, this chair is so uncomfortable.”“Oh, Okay. Can I help you?”“Yeah, just hold the chair still?”She got behind it, and I heard her say “Hey there’s brakes.” Once the brakes were set, it was easy to get out of the chair and sat the bed. She unset the brakes and slipped the chair into the corner, then knelt down before me again. This time I leaned back on my elbows & she reached out to pull down my sweats with a little more confidence. She got them to my knees, and stopped to pull off the shoe on my good leg.The sweats slipped off my legs, leaving me semi-reclined in my polo shirt and briefs. The briefs were definitely bulging now. She stared at my crotch for long enough that I became self-conscious, and I blushed almost as red as she was.Grinning big, she picked up the sharpie, then wrote a note on my cast.“To Robert, I saved myself for the one who saved my life, Suzanne”It was difficult to read from my angle, so she read it out loud to me. My heart started to race, and I felt a little dizzy. "Really?“ I said.She blushed harder, as if that were even possible, and looked at the floor."I think I’ve been saving myself for someone like you, too.” I said.She looked up at me, with what I thought was panic at first, but the smile that grew from that look was anything but panicked. I held out my hand for the pen. She sat to my left and held out her arm. It was covered by her blouse, so I said “Uh, It’s covered”.“Then you’ll have to uncover it I guess,” she beamed.She shifted up over me and I reached up with trembling fingers to work the front buttons on her silky long sleeved top. It felt like I had never operated a button in my life, I was so uncoordinated. But I finally got the job done, and her blouse fell open. I slid it off her far shoulder, and she pulled her left arm free. I stared in wonder at her tits. She didn’t have a bra on, probably because she needed both hands to get it on and off. Oh My Fucking God.I absently drew her blouse off her right shoulder, and slid the puffy long sleeve down & off her right arm and it's cast. Only then did I take in the veritable wonder of an actual pair of real live tits in front of my eyes. “Wow” I said with bright eyes. Her tits were a smaller B cup, with areolas a shade darker than her skin tone, and stiff little nipples poking out.“They’re not too small?” she timidly asked.“God no, wow! You’re beautiful!” I said with a giddiness I couldn t suppress.She blushed and looked away shyly for a second. I remembered the pen in my hand, so I had her lay on her back so I could write on her cast.“To Suzanne, saving each other, saved for each other, Robert”As I was capping the pen her left hand pulled me down against her, and her lips rushed to meet mine. I had thought she had nice lips when I kissed her earlier, but that was mostly one-sided. This was phenomenal. I dropped the pen somewhere, and wrapped my arms around her. We kissed like this for minutes, or maybe it was days, I dunno, I didn’t care. She lay half across my lap, and I bent over her, our lips and tongues entwined for such a glorious time.It was never like this. I was always so nervous trying to kiss a girl before, but this was passion and perfection. We finally had to come up for air, and she smiled sweetly at me as she lay back on my bed. I guess that’s when she felt my erection pressing into her hip. Her eyes went wide, then she grinned up at me.“Am I as fetching as you thought?”“Yeah, fetching is not the half of it. Arousing, beautiful, and literally stunning. I have no more words.”“Shall I get the, um, the box, from your desk?” she offered.“Not yet.” I replied, hobbling up off the bed, then guiding her to her feet. I undid the zipper on her slacks, and slipped them down to pile up around her ankles. She kicked her shoes off and stepped out of her slacks. “Damn” I said. She was so pale and delicate. Not a small girl, probably the same height as me, but she was certainly slimmer than I was, overall.Her hands seemed to want to cover her boobs, but she fought that urge, standing before me as a lover, not a recently met stranger. I was drawn to her, & I could feel the pull, like gravity between us. She tentatively reached toward me, and I realized she wanted me as naked as she was, so we peeled off my polo shirt.She gasped, looked me up and down, her gaze settling on the sharply defined summit in my underwear. She reached out again, and clumsily pulled down the front of my briefs with her left hand. I hooked my thumb into the waistband behind me and it made her mission move along quickly. But as she leaned down to complete the descent, she nearly got poked in the eye.“Oh dear” she said as my stiff cock sprang free of its confinement and pointed upward toward her. “That’s so… different. Bigger.” Her eyes were wide now as she took in what was apparently her first sight of a full erection.I reached for her, and she started to back away, so I laid back down and waited. She fidgeted some more, some kind of internal debate, and then she knelt and leaned right up to me, nodding. “Okay” she said.I reached down again, and ever so slowly peeled her panties off. Fuck. A neat little triangle of sparse, dark hair was there, just above a puffy slit. I’d seen lots of porn, but this was not like any of that. All those porn stars shaved and trimmed and waxed away everything. This was whatever she had, all of it, come as you are.Her panties dropped to her knees, and I said “Wow. You’re beautiful.”“You think so?” she asked.“Oh yes, I know so.” I said with conviction.She smiled, then shifted nervously and flipped her panties to the floor. Then she paused again, a fleeting glance back to the desk. "Lay down here with me for a while.“ I said.Relaxing the tiniest bit, she laid alongside and half on me, and we embraced, as best we could with two limbs encased in plaster. We kissed again, and it was similar to before, but the extra skin contact made the sensation so much better. I put my hands to use, stroking her back, her neck, her tits, and her thighs as she shivered from my touch. Then she shifted onto her side and her left hand was around the back of my neck, drawing our kiss closer, pressing her pert tits into my chest, crushing me to her. As before, we kissed forever, it seemed. Once she let up on her clutching me, I gently rolled her onto her back, on the bed.I wanted to see that pussy. To touch it, smell it, taste it! I’d read about eating a girl out, I’d watched innumerable videos, and now I had the opportunity to try it. Some guys said it was gross, and wouldn’t do it. Some said it was the best way to get a girl worked up, so don’t mind the smell and taste, just do it. Me, I just wanted to find out what it was like, I didn’t care if it was good or bad, I was gonna do this.Gently, I scooted myself up, then farther down the bed. I pushed her legs apart, and she watched in wonder as I leaned down to look at her. Wow, this was amazing. "You’re beautiful” I said to her pussy. I leaned right in and kissed her patch. There was a sharp sour tang to her, but it wasn’t bad, just new, different. I swept my tongue along her slit, picking up even more of her strong flavour. Inside, it was different, still not good or bad, I guessed that this was just what a pussy tasted like.Again and again I lapped at her, and she got wetter and wetter. Her knees bent as she opened herself up, inviting me farther inside. This wetness might have been me drooling on her, or her arousal, I didn’t know. She was making joyous little noises up there, in time to my activities with my tongue. That felt good, really good, to me! I caressed her thighs, then ran my fingers through her delicate fur, and her hips moved in a way I had never imagined I would ever see. I could FEEL her arousal in that motion, she was so happy with what I was doing, and that made me happy!I knew her clitoris was supposed to be up here somewhere, so I began licking at the apex of her slit. Her soft cries and shudders let me now when I found it. Yes, there she was, and when I used my tongue the way I saw in those videos, she reacted with an astonishing cry and multiple thrusts of her hips. She practically bounced on the bed and yelped in her efforts to seemingly avoid my tongue and ram herself onto it at one and the same time.Her hand came down to twine her fingers in my hair, not too push me away, or even to draw me in, but just to make contact, to be part of what was happening to her. I continued to lick her clit gently, and her hips began a hypnotic rolling motion, over and over, slowly cycling up and down.I put a finger down where I thought her opening was, and moved it around, between her slick labia. I found what I sought, and as my finger slipped inside of her, the tone of her soft noises changed, from one of languid pleasure to one of lust and need. I continued this double activity, which came so much easier to me than the old patting-head and rubbing-tummy trick. I always botched that, but not this!I had thought that I’d made her cum a while earlier, when she’d made that louder noise, but I was wrong, or perhaps this was a new order of magnitude for her. This time her entire body tensed up, and she shook and made small gasping sounds for a half a minute. Now her hand was pushing me away, her breath rasping in her throat, as she’d had enough of this.“Oh, Robert” she whispered hoarsely.I sat up and let my casted leg hang over the side of the bed. Then I looked down upon her, spread out before me, spread eagle, gasping for air in her glory.“Did I do Okay?” I asked.She laughed weakly, then said; “I didn’t know it could be like that.”“Me neither.” I admitted.“Do, do we need those uh, things now?”“Condoms. Yes, we’ll need those, I hope?” I eager looked at her.“I’d get them, but I can’t seem to move right now, she revealed. Can I catch my breath for a bit?” She was still breathing heavily.“That’s Okay, we re in no hurry, I assured her.I felt like I would never tire of watching her when she was naked and aroused. Beautiful, amazing. After a while she struggled to sit up, difficult with one arm and tangled up with another person in bed. She stepped over to the desk and got out that box, then brought it to me. She sat down on the side of the bed and watched closely as I opened it and pulled out a strip of condoms. A folded instruction sheet fell out in my lap, and she picked it up. I tore one of the condom packages off the strip as she unfolded the paper & flipped it over to read the English side. I peered over her shoulder at the little diagram, and tore open the packet. Suzanne dropped the paper and looked closely at what I was doing as I squeezed the tip and rolled it on."That’s it?” she asked.“Yup, I think so, I surmised.She lifted her cast-encased arm and said "How do we do this?”“You on top, I think.”“On top?” she asked, “I don’t understand.”“Can I show you a video?” I offered.“Oh, Okay. You mean like, a porn video?”“Uh huh, so you can see what position might work.”“O, kay?”She got up, unplugged my laptop, and brought it over, placing it on our laps. I surfed to a site I knew had good videos. I typed cowgirl in the search box and scrolled through the resulting thumbnails. I soon found a promising one, and clicked on it. I had to fast forward through a lot of it, and she said “Go back to that last part.”I backed up a bit and she watched in rapt fascination as a girl on the screen took a guy’s cock deep into her mouth. “Can I try that?” she asked.“Sure! if you want.”The girl on the screen pulled away and continued to stroke the guy, his cum splattering her face, then she took him back in to finish.“Yew. Maybe not.”“Like I said, only if you want.”“Well, you did that for me, so maybe I should do that for you, too.”“Let’s find the bit we’re looking for first.”I skipped forward a bit more, then found the cowgirl segment. “See, she’s on top, our casts won’t be in the way too much like that. Plus, it gives you the ability to take things along as you re comfortable.We watched for a minute. "Okay, I can do that.” she said.Closing the laptop, she put it on the floor and slid it under the bed. She got off the bed, and let me shift around, and clambered back on. Straddling my thighs, she bit her lip and said, “It’s supposed to hurt the first time, isn’t it?”“I think so. You’ll have to be gentle.” That s why I wanted us to try it this way.She nodded, then reached down and grasped my cock. She took a few minutes to fondle and stroke my cock, with a look of curiosity, desire, and giddiness. She knelt straight up, and shifted her body forward to align her new play tool with her cunt, moving her hips and my cock, to find the right spot. Once engaged, she withdrew her hand and sank halfway down onto me.She froze, with a curious look on her face.“Huh” she groaned.“Oh god, Suzanne” I said, basking in the hot wet tightness of her pussy. It was incredible. I was gonna cum, and soon, this was so astonishingly good!She was descended in front of me, pert tits caped with tight hard nipples, hair hanging in disarray about her face, and her pussy - holy fuck - I could see my cock impaling her. Labia distended and wrapped around my shaft, and the sensations from inside her were amazing! As she raised back up, my cock looked like it had a pussy doughnut encircling it.It was like some weird sheathed hand, wrapped around my cock, with rippling touches here and there. Her thousand-yard stare suddenly focused back on me, and she said “Wow” and slid down my shaft until she bottomed out. “That didn’t hurt at all” she whispered in awe. “That feels so good! You feel so big inside me.”Recalling the video we’d previewed, she started humping and grinding and bouncing on my shaft. I was trying not to cum yet, I wanted to please her first, and luckily, what she was doing wasn’t over stimulating me. Except visually, I was getting so turned on by the sight of a naked girl getting turned on by my own cock! And guys are visual creatures, so it was difficult to hold back.But she did cum again, and hard, and I could feel it from the inside. Her orgasm was a rippling and clenching of muscles, both inside her pussy, and over her whole body. Her arms, her legs, her abs, everything tensed and shook. Maybe there s nothing so visually erotic as watching a sexy woman having a massive trance orgasm.And that was all I could stand before I exploded.I thought the condom was gonna explode, I pumped so much cum into it. The sight of her there, on me, cumming, fuck that was intense.When it had passed, she opened her eyes in wonder and looked down at me. “Oh god Robert, this is amazing! You’re amazing.” All I could do was smile up at her. Then she said “Did you finish yet?”“Oh Yeah."  I assured her.She smiled with a deep sense of accomplishment, then asked me; "Can I try that mouth thing?” Her innocence is so sexy.“A blowjob?" I asked."That’s a blowjob? she seemed inquisitive. I heard other people talk about it, but was always afraid to ask what it was. I really want to try that.”She rose up off of me and tried to get the condom off. Left handed wasn’t working well, so I removed it, and asked her to reach over to the desk for some tissues to clean up. “Thanks” she said, then she went around to the foot of the bed and crawled up to get at my cock.She sat cross-legged and leaned down to get closer to her new favorite sex toy.She held my semi-flaccid cock and gave the tip a tentative lick first, then smiled at me and licked harder. She spent a minute or so licking me like a popsicle. Wow, you taste sorta salty and manly she observed. Then she took my head into her mouth and I gasped and whimpered “Please, No teeth”.“Sorry.” she said. Then I was engulfed again, and she hummed on me, which wa

Seth and Sean discuss Tom Brady being called out as a coward for saying he has no rooting interest in the Super Bowl, talk about some big game storylines, and talk with Mattress Mack.

BE WARNED: It's LuAnna, and this podcast contains honest, upfront opinions, rants, bants and general explicit content. But you know you love it!It's time to get TOTALLY EXTRA. Extra chat, extra rants, extra bants, extra stories, nonsense and more.On this week's Totally Extra: Break lights, a wall paper petty polly, an old lass flapping a tit out, favourite birds, auntie clit, we text our other halves nonsense and a potentially illegal burial. Remember, if you want to get in touch you can:Email us at luanna@everythingluanna.com OR drop us a WhatsApp on our NEW NUMBER: 07521564640Please review Global's Privacy Policy: https://global.com/legal/privacy-policy/

Snag is a nasty wee story that includes violence and discussion of sexual assault. It's flippant, provocative, and probably downright brutal. But that's up to each individual to decide. So if you think you're better off skipping this story — then you should. I've supplied a text for it below, and the audio recording is up above. You can read it, or read along with the the recording, or just listen. You can, as I said above, just skip it all entirely. Your choice. Despite the fact that the Best Man said one word far too many times in his speech, it had been a good wedding. ‘Notwithstanding.' You were glad to have been there. However, it really did bug you all the same. This word. It wasn't even quite being used correctly. And Christine in her black dress staring a dagger right at you while you winced through that speech was an obvious sign there was more to come. At the end of the night, drunk, she would not be standing. That was partly her own fault, and maybe you had something to do with it too. She tried some sort of ornery lap dance, some sort of ‘getting even' shtick for some imagined slight. She slid across your knee, the dress like wetted wax paper, and then this grotesque lick of your face, from the bottom of your chin up to the corner of your left eye in a cartoon exaggeration of slow crawl. Well, you just took the two hands you had and pushed her onto the floor where she sat like a bag of spuds. And your wife Olivia, appalled, would later describe the situation as barbaric for all — those watching, those in it, and even those that would go on to hear about it. But your wife also thought Black Dress was almost asking for it, said the whole look of her was like a sausage trying to slip its casing, or was it a sausage unaware it was slipping its casing? At any rate, you said “snarler” and laughed your way into a snort. “You probably didn't need to push her quite so hard, Jimmy,” your wife said, in the taxi, heading home to your rented accommodation. “I mean, it was quite a thud. Did you really have to use both hands?”“Olivia, I'd have used more hands if I could,” you said. Another snort. And with that, as if suddenly triggered, the realisation that Archie would be up in three or four hours, and will want the full degustation: Bluey, PAW Patrol, and Peppa Fucking Pig.Olivia was a saint, they all said it. Behind your back. As well as right to your face. How on earth did she put up with you and all your antics? But you knew that Olivia knew that the real Jimmy wasn't for anyone else. The real Jimmy was just for her. And for Archie now of course too. This other Jimmy smeared peanut butter all down the cupboards while making two thick sandwiches before bed, kicked one shoe out the window of the Airbnb. Woops! And ripped his tie off so quickly that the top button went with it. Also, only one cufflink on final count. You would sway through the new day, wasps in your throat, and a need to constantly scratch at your head. You would watch the cartoons with Archie, and then when he went back down, if he went back down, you would get a second wave of sleep too. You weren't a bad guy. You just could not say no to the open bar. How, you wondered, could anyone say no to the open bar?“Who was that woman in the black dress?” Olivia stood at the top of the stairs. “I mean, she was awful, but she really set you off?”“Just someone from uni.”“Just someone?” “No. Not like that. Literally just someone. Part of the wider gang, obviously, I mean she was there at the wedding. But that's the first time I'd seen her in 20 years I'd guess.” “Well, she had her eye on you all night, and most of the afternoon. Was she there alone? It seemed like it at least. She acted like it at least.” “What does that mean?”“I think you know what it means. Know many other married women that just go and lick the face of a married man in front of his wife?” “Beside you honey, no I don't.”“You're fucking funny Jimmy. And you're fucking lucky, you know that? You're fucking lucky that you're fucking funny, but seriously, I am not sure how we face up later today at the Aftermatch.”“Aftermatch?”“You know, the next day BBQ. The thing. The wedding gloat.”“Ah, the post-mortem?”“Don't call it that! But yes…”“Well, we just won't go. Text and say Archie's sick if you have to, I'll do it. But also what's the problem? Hair of the dog. Might be good…”“The problem, Jimmy, is a bunch of people saw you shove a drunk single woman to the ground, rather violently. The problem, Jimmy, is neither of us checked to see if she was okay, and no one has been in touch with us since, and it is going to be incredibly awkward turning up there as if nothing happened. When, Jimmy, something clearly happened.”You knew what happened. You could never say. There was an electrical current between you and Christine. You had this weird history, admittedly 20 years of radio silence, complete inactivity, seemingly the whole thing had shut itself down, gone away. But you had a history of both getting drunk and ending up in combative, hostile situations. You were dragons for the piss, both of you. And though you never exactly hooked up, there was baggage. You were in each other's lives, at some point, and in the weirdest way. You went to her house one night and watched her sleep, used the spare key because all student flats had one and everyone knew where they were, and you had stumbled home from the pub and sat in a chair in her room while she snored and you watched. Just watched. She would do the same to you, a couple of weeks later, except you woke up with her on top of you. Straddling you, she had grabbed your hands and put them on her boobs, her hands behind your hands prompting you to squeeze. You'd pushed her to the side of the bed, gone straight to the fridge and necked a beer. “Jimmy, you've gone somewhere,” Olivia said. “Where are you? What are you thinking about?” “Nah. Nothing. Just hungover, zoning out love,” you said. “Well, I'm not lying about today. We are showering. We are going. Archie is not sick. And I do want Liz and Graham to meet him. And I do want you on best behaviour.”“When am I not though?” you said. Hoping for a laugh, and in the end supplying it yourself.At the vineyard they were all sitting on long wooden benches, a lot of chambray shirts. Too many cricket hats, bunch of unlikely outfielders you thought. And one or two dads throwing one or two Pétanque balls gently for their kids to marvel over, the clack-clattering of the children collecting these round trophies, disrupting games, burrowing them like a reverse Easter Egg hunt. You breezed past a few of last night's dead soldiers with a dismissive wave, safe under sunglasses, you took a mimosa and asked if there was anything harder on offer. “Not for you,” came the curt reply from the matron of honour. “Ah well,” you said, “best make the ma-most of this one then, eh!” She probably groaned. But fuck it all. Olivia a vision, parading around wee Arch, the star of the day as far as you were concerned. I mean, Graham, Liz, sure. Their day obviously, but also, how long does this shit go on, right? It was their day yesterday. Liz instructed Graham where to sit, and they unwrapped a bunch of junk from the guests, and you flopped about in a beanbag talking to a kid about why Monsieur Donkey was the best character in Peppa Pig, especially when he just hammers Daddy Pig with how shit English food is, saying he brought all of this stuff over from France with him, because he knows the Poms need it, he lists bread and cheese, and even water. The kid looked at you, and shouted “Mummy!” A woman appeared behind bangs and whisked her child away. You slumped further. You must have nodded off for a bit, but talk about rude awakenings, no one around you at all, just a shadow of some legs and sticky wine all on you, Christine standing over, her legs spread widely, her skirt hitched right up. A close talker, lost for words. Just staring. You writhe about and wriggle free of the beanbag's clutches, stand as if at attention. Christine pokes you hard in the chest. “We are going over there,” she says, and points to the tractor shed on the corner of the plot, just behind a couple of huge oak trees. Of course you worry Olivia will see this, of course you realise you haven't talked to anyone else, apart from the Peppa Pig bit with the kid, which was rudely cut short by an uptight mum. In the tractor shed, Christine asks you how you've been. You say, “better.” She says, “I don't doubt that.” You say, “Look, fuck, what even is all this anyway? We were fucking stupid drunk kids. Now we've grown up, let's just…”“You still look like you're stupid and drunk, just not a kid,” she cuts you off. “Jimmy, you look bad mate.”“Don't call me mate.”“Alright then, non-fuck buddy. I mean, what even are we?”“We are two people who used to get messed up and didn't know how to talk to one another sober and then got so drunk we couldn't speak at all. We are two people from another lifetime.”“And yet, here we are.”“Yeah, but I didn't even want to come today.”“I seem to recall that's always been your problem, Jim. That time you basically lured me to your place, and I was there on top of you, and you push me aside for a fucking drink?!”“Look, just leave me alone, I didn't think you had kept up with Liz, I didn't expect to see you, I don't know what to say to you, but um, look, we don't need closure, we don't need anything.”“Oh but the thing is, Jimmy, I saw the way you were looking at me. All fucking night. I know what you were thinking.”“Look Christine, you stupid fucking bitch, you are nothing. You're just this fucking idea of a woman squeezed tight into a dress. You're not what you think you are. I'm not what you think I am. I drink because I like it. You drink because you need to. I have a thirst. You think everyone's thirsty for you. We are two different people. We're not the same. We aren't even the same as we used to be, well, I'm not. You might think I am, but you have no fucking idea. I'm a good guy, I just get, um, a bit muddled.”“Muddled? Muddled! See this fucking bruise right here?” She hitches the skirt once again. “That's your fucking muddling.” “I mean, shit, fuck, I am really sorry about last night actually, but also what the fuck — you licked the side of my face like you owned me. We didn't even speak a word to each other last night. In that sense, it was weirdly like the old days. But fuck you. In front of my wife…”“I want you to fuck me, Jimmy. Right now. Not in front of your wife, but right now, here, in this shed.”“Oh fuck off.” “And if you don't, Jimmy, I will tell everyone here that you forced yourself on me. I'll run from this shed fucking screaming, and crying. In front of the children, in front of your child. In front of your fucking wife.”“Christine. Fuck. You're a psycho.”“Fuck me Jimmy!” And that's when she reached for your belt. And what happened next is of course a blur. But it started with you holding your hands over her mouth, and it ended with her not being able to breathe for a bit. In the middle, she had her teeth on your fingers, and you pushed her hard. Or was it a punch? She was certainly doubled over. So you pushed her into the corner of the shed. Where she flopped down into the loose hay. It was soft there, so you put one of the big tarpaulins over her.Archie was much better at making friends than you were. You sat thinking about that as he played with the other kids, and you heard echoes of questions that eventually felt like you were meant to be answering them. You looked over and saw Olivia talking with Janey, one of the bridesmaids. You stood, waved. Olivia smiled, and you're pretty sure Janey turned the other way. After a while, you decided it was time to go, and not just because you saw Christine tumbling along across the grass on one of her missions. “Well that was a nice day all up,” Olivia said in the car, heading home.“Yeah”, you replied. “It was okay.”“I didn't see much of you though, those mimosas obviously went down better than should legally be the case after your efforts last night.”“What can I say darling, I've got a thirst. You know that.”“I do.”“They were an okay crowd, but fuck, I can't do this sort of shit for too long, eh. I'm looking forward to being back at my desk. Back at work. Maybe a couple of days off the booze even.”“Well that would be something. I mean it would almost be a miracle, Jimmy. But I think you should try.”“I love you and Archie, you know that, eh?”“Of course darling, and we love you. And I think today is proof that you can do it. You can actually not have too much, not be too much. Not offend, or provoke, or get lost in the wrong version of yourself. I'm proud of you honey.”“You are the best thing that ever happened to me.”“But hey, I do have one question.”“Shoot.”“Black Dress?”“Um…”“What's her name, Christine, is that it?”“Yeah, why?”“Oh, Liz said she saw you and, ah, Christine, heading off for a talk, so what was that about?”“Um, nothing. I mean, I knew, ah, we knew each other at university. I told you that. We always had this stupid kinda set of arguments or kinda dares or, I don't know, just stupid stuff, eh.”“Okay?”“Olivia, it's sorted. Okay. I didn't really expect to see Christine. I didn't want to. But she wanted to ask me why I pushed her off my lap. I told her she was drunk and stupid but I also apologised. And look, I think it's sorted completely now.”“Well that is good to hear my love.”“Yeah, I mean I just know it's not going to happen again.”“I'm proud of you Jimmy.”“I'm always proud of you.” “When you pushed her last night Jimmy…”“Yeah…”“Did she fall on anything? My memory is a bit hazy now too, but did she fall on anything?”“Um, the floor?”“Well, that's what I thought, but Janey told me Christine was really limping. She wandered across the field at the end of the afternoon, visibly shaken, crying, holding her head in her hand. You reckon she's a mess, so I am just going to assume that she's upset and still dealing with stuff and we are heading in the right direction. Out of there…”“Ah, yeah, look I don't remember if she hit anything.”“Well, did she have any bruises, or was she limping when you were talking to her Jimmy? I feel like that's a pretty simple question.”“It is. And yeah, I mean she's a fucking fall-down drunk to be honest, so it's likely isn't it. But I can't give you specifics, you see I really don't like looking at her face ever. I mean, that's what got us into this mess to begin with, right?”“Us?”“Me.”“You! Yeah. But you've sorted it now right?”“I have.”“And you apologised.”“I did. I'm certainly very sorry.”Back at the Airbnb, you put the sausages on the BBQ. You always liked to do simple things like a quick dinner. Your way of helping. You wanted to help when able. You'd miss this. All of this. Olivia started packing for the trip home the next day. Archie was still asleep in his car seat, in the rental. They both looked so beautiful. Olivia, always, but especially when in motion. Archie forever, but maybe especially when not in motion. You had the car door open, you had the Bluetooth speaker on the tabletop of the outdoor furniture, playing Yanni's Live At The Acropolis full bore. “What is it with you and Yanni?”“It's my perfect soundtrack! I mean he's new age, right? I'm just a new age guy basically.”“Oh right. And sensitive too I guess?”“I mean, there are certain sensitivities I have. I definitely get close to tears when the liquor cabinet is looking grim.”“Oh god Jimmy, come on…”“Nah, I genuinely do love Yanni though. It's the music. The emotion. The stirring. But also, he's a short Latino guy dressed all in white. You just know that dude is down to fuck.”“Um… I don't know much about Yanni, but I know he's not a Latino. He's from Greece.”“Hey, Latin/Greece, they both invented drama! Anyway, it's all Greek to me!”You take the plate of sausages over to the table, and the one on top has split slightly, it looks like it's about to wriggle from its casing. You and her both have a chuckle. No words. None needed. She smiles at you, so you know what you have to do. You take the sausage, and peel it slowly from itself, as if a banana. You then squeeze as hard as you can, a tight fist around the base of this snarler. Its flesh bursting in a mash all over the plate. You both laugh, despite the visible bite marks on your hand. You both laugh. Just enjoying this last meal together.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it.Start writing today. Use the button below to create a Substack of your own Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

For 35 years, Poland's unholy giants Behemoth have flown the flag for blackened death metal not only in their home country, but in all corners of the world. Along with Vader and Hate, Behemoth have played an important role in establishing the Polish extreme metal underground with an uncompromisingly brutal attitude that burns brighter with each passing year.Fresh from releasing their most recent album – The Shit Ov God - in May this year on Nuclear Blast, Behemoth have set their sights on Australia in February 2026 to perform tracks from their storied discography alongside new material. Straddling the line between the sacred and profane, Behemoth has risen to become extreme metal's most revered and provocative band, steeped in anti-authoritarian fire. Renowned for their elaborate live performances, the band continues to push boundaries with their fearless artistry and vision, and have vowed to bring their menacing glory to Australian fans on the upcoming tour.To celebrate the momentous occasion, HEAVY recently sat down with guitarist/vocalist Nergal to journey through the sordid world of Behemoth. We ask if his excitement levels remain as high despite touring most countries multiple times."Yes," he smiled warmly. "I don't want to sound arrogant here, because the fact is that from the first tour that we did in Australia to the next one, it just grew by a few per cent. But every time it was bigger and bigger crowds. We even did some like big festival appearances, so we played in front of really big crowds there as well. Mostly, it's club tours, but still, I don't want to be like, oh, Behemoth is coming back, everyone is just fucking bowing. No, no, you always have to earn that. You have to work hard. We have a new record called The Shit Ov God, and I don't know how it's going over there in Australia. So it's always a test.It's always a question of how many people would like to go and check it out again if they've seen us before? And I hope they will. And how many of the newcomers are going to show up? So it's always a question mark, you know. I don't want to sound too full of myself, like it's a royal return of Behemoth. No, no. We do work hard; we do care about it, and we would love to have the biggest run yet in Australia."In the full interview, Nergal discussed Behemoth's upcoming tour in Australia in greater detail, highlighting the band's strong connections and positive experiences in the country. Nergal expressed enthusiasm for returning to Australia, noting the growth of their audience and the importance of continually earning their place in the music scene. He shared personal reflections on his career, emphasizing the gradual success of Behemoth over 34 years and the evolution of their live performances into elaborate spectacles.He also mentioned the financial challenges of live show production, drawing inspiration from other bands like Rammstein while remaining committed to enhancing their stage presence. The conversation further explored Nergal's creative process, which he described as organic and akin to piecing together a puzzle. He emphasized the need to capture fleeting ideas through notes to avoid losing creative opportunities and the challenges that come with longevity in the music scene. Nergal also discussed Behemoth's latest album, The Shit Ov God, acknowledging its potential for mixed reactions while highlighting its philosophical significance. He talked about the themes of the album and the title, expressing his thoughts going into an album cycle and more.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/heavy-music-interviews--2687660/support.

All for the love of Hollywood

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

The "Call of the Day" features a legendary, "savage" rant from Jim on the Jersey Shore, who tears into BT & Sal for not relentlessly attacking Yankees owner Hal Steinbrenner. Jim calls Hal a "trust fund puke" who is "ruining our team" and suggests that any Yankee fan who attends a game next year is a "sucker." The caller specifically challenges Tierney's perceived neutrality on Hal compared to his past "savaging" of Brian Cashman, prompting a fiery defense from BT. Sal offers a solution: "Raise your kids Mets fans." The ensuing debate shifts into a deep-dive question: If a salary cap were introduced, would Stearns' small-market track record or Cashman's experience be better suited to build a winner?

The Time Riders: Part 8 A Date With Death. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Into the pit. Domitia was brought through the streets, which were lined with huge crowds watching her somberly. She was attended by at least twenty soldiers, who walked in silence around her. Accompanying them were her former sister Vestals and the Pontifex Maximus, one of the greatest priests in Rome and head of the state religion. It was he who ultimately was in charge of the Virgins, both choosing them and stripping them of their office if the need arose. He walked ahead of her, his face grave. Domitia wore a simple white tunic now, but all other signs of her former life were gone. Her magnificent braids were undone, and her brown hair hung down her back shamefully. The colors she'd been allowed to wear were missing. In times past, disgraced Virgins had been excoriated, possibly just beaten with a rod, but now, in the height of mighty Rome's power, the punishment was death, for endangering the city. But no one was insane enough to spill the blood of a Vestal Virgin, disgraced or not, so her execution was not so direct. She would be sent underground into a small chamber, with a stock of food and supplies, and locked in there until she starved to death, or succumbed to sickness. They weren't killing her, per se; she was merely shunned until she died. Such was the way of Imperial Rome. Her condemnation and pronouncement of her fate had already been declared, at the beginning of this long walk, meant to be a show of penitence before the face of all Rome. And as humiliated and crushed as she was, her foremost thought was about Bonosus, and his magnificent cock. Even now, being led through the streets, her cunt was wet and ached to feel him buried inside her. Before she knew it, they had arrived at their destination, a small area in the north of the city, with a plot dug into the ground. Stopping at its edge, she looked down inside; the walls were lined with wood, probably to prevent a collapse, and there seemed to be a small stool and a cot within. She heard hysterical sobbing from nearby, and turned her head to see her mother, her birth mother, Pompeneia, weeping from behind the barricade of guards and calling out to her. Domitia's heart ached for a moment, but then she turned her gaze back to the den prepared for her. Her fate was sealed. She glanced over to look at her sister Vestals, but they refused to look at her, staring ahead resolutely. She could see tears in dear Silla's eyes, though; she had hurt the Sisterhood badly, and this was how she was to pay for it. So be it. With all the dignity she could muster, Domitia swallowed her fear and stepped forward, turning and climbing down the ladder, descending roughly ten feet until she reached the earthen floor. There were small candles burning on some stone surfaces, allowing for dim light. She looked upward, and the last thing she saw was the face of the Pontifex Maximus looking down at her, his expression unreadable, before a heavy door was slammed down and locked, cutting off all light and all sound from above. She shuddered at the sound, her stomach twisting in knots. She knew that there was no way out. The door would be weighted, and guards set outside for weeks, to prevent anyone from trying to rescue her. Despite her fear, she looked around, noting the small amount of food supplies left for her, and a small, narrow hole dug in one corner where she was to relieve herself. It wouldn't do to have a Vestal Virgin stinking of shit, even a disgraced one, and even in death. The silence was almost terrifying. She slumped into the small chair left for her, shivering and biting her lip as she felt that her cunt was still wet, the sticky lips parting slightly as she spread her legs. Thoughts of Bonosus returned to her, and she couldn't help but reach down beneath her tunic and begin rubbing her fingers over herself. The fear she felt melted away as she tickled her throbbing clit and teased her warm nether lips. Domitia closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure. If she was to die in this hateful place, it would be while cumming, thinking of that magnificent cock, spurting inside her one last time; The wall opposite her creaked and opened, the stout wooden boards pulling away. Domitia almost yelped in shock, but she didn't stop playing with herself. She stared in astonishment as a tall blonde woman came inside, carrying a torch. Following her was Nanu, a slave-girl that Domitia would have sworn belonged to her parents. "Well, hello, Domitia," the blonde woman said, smiling at her. "I'm Lady Aurora Horatia, Bonosus' mistress. Are you ready to get out of here?" Domitia nodded, but then paused, reconsidering as her fingers plunged in and out of her molten cunt. "Can you; give me just a moment here?" the former Virgin asked sheepishly. Into the Arena. Mark winced and squinted as the great gate opened, allowing light to flood into the dark tunnel. The grinding and heaving of the gears that moved the iron-reinforced barriers echoed loudly, and his heart pounded in anxiety. He was almost hyperventilating, and he could feel the blood racing through his veins. Maybe taking the adrenalin tab he'd finally found stashed behind a loose brick wasn't such a good idea. And no instructions, either. He reminded himself to punch himself in the face when he saw himself again. Hey, at least he knew he survived. He felt himself shoved roughly out into the arena, looking around in bewilderment as tens of thousands of people all shouted and jeered at him. Part of the huge stadium was cast into shadow because of the giant canvas awning that covered a full third of its seating and the arena in the center. He thought it was called the Velarium, but he wasn't sure. The roaring noise of the crowds hurt his ears, and he felt dizzy. The tab's effects apparently hadn't evened out in him yet. Maybe he should have taken it earlier? Wearing his itchy burlap loincloth, a rope belt, sandals and nothing else, Mark wandered slowly toward the center of the sandy field, his cudgel in hand. The echoing sounds of the crowd were maddening, and he felt almost dizzy. What was the purpose of this damn tab, anyway? Guards approached him. His urge was to run, but where would he go? Trembling, he stood his ground and waited for them. One of them grabbed him roughly and spun him about to face something, shoving him to one knee. Mark gasped, but then looked up and paused. On the other side of the giant stadium, sitting in a shaded box, was a man wearing purple, surrounded by guards and other dignitaries. It had to be the Emperor. The most powerful man in the world. If only he knew which one it was. Maybe he could've gotten an autograph. He chuckled bitterly at his joke, but the guard holding him told him to shut up and slapped him across the back of the head. Mark's eyes snapped open and fury flared through him. He surged to his feet and his shoulder-block knocked the guard backwards, to the astonishment of the audience. The guard and another one nearby drew their weapons and were about to kill him, when trumpets blared from all around the perimeter of the Colosseum. Mark looked around warily, seeing the reaction of the crowds as the two guards withdrew. Drums sounded out now, and more trumpets. He looked over at the emperor, his eyes going wide as he noticed a familiar, stunning blonde woman in a seat next to him and watching Mark with a smirk. Kneeling beside her was Nanu. "Jesus, Becky, there's a million people in Rome; how many did you fuck?" he muttered, scowling. He heard the gates clanking open again and spun to face them, his heart racing again. From the dark tunnel strode a stout, bald man wearing leather armour on his shoulder and a metal-studded skirt, carrying a shield and wielding a small axe. "What is this, fetish night at the Colosseum?" Mark complained loudly as the man began to run toward him. Mark braced himself, watching warily. His earlier anxiety was being replaced by anger, and a desire to either flee or fight. He'd just trust to his adrenalin and hope that his future self knew what the Hell he was doing. The gladiator ran up and swung at Mark, who ducked and came up behind his foe. Before the man could turn, Mark struck him across the back of the head with his cudgel. The man crashed to the ground face-first. The crowd was yelling in outrage and astonishment. Apparently, that wasn't supposed to happen. The man showed no signs of rising, merely stirring feebly and groaning, a huge goose egg rising on the back of his head. Hastily, Mark leaned down and pulled the round wooden shield off the man's arm and pried the axe from his grip. He stood up, trying to control his breathing. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. He looked around, making sure no one was approaching him from any other direction, but nobody seemed to be forthcoming. Where was his next foe? It dawned on him that he hadn't been expected to last beyond this first fight. They were probably scrambling to figure out what to do next. Doubtless they'd be finding another gladiator to throw at him. He chanced a glance up at Becky, but she sat still, simply watching him. He didn't blame her; she was supposed to have turned on him, after all. He did notice that she was keeping one leg crossed over the other and bouncing her thighs subtly. Maybe the hormones weren't completely out of her system yet. Or it could have just been normal horny Becky. Who knew at this point? A few seconds later, the gates on another section of the concave wall that surrounded him opened slowly, and out strode a tall man, wearing only a loincloth like himself and greaves, but carrying a weighted net in one hand, and a trident in the other. "Trident!" Mark exclaimed to himself, remembering. "That's what those fucking things are called! Now I can; Hey!" Mark had gotten distracted and only barely jumped out of the way of the retiarius, who thrust his trident, trying to skewer his foe. Mark angrily struck at the man's head with his axe, but he raised the haft of the weapon to block and Mark's axe broke on it. The crowd cheered wildly as it saw what happened. Mark stared dumbly at the splintered handle of his weapon, the iron head missing entirely, having spun off to land in the dust several inconvenient feet away. "What the shit?" Mark shouted angrily as he dodged another attack, keeping his shield between himself and his enemy. The trident's tines glanced off the face of his shield, coming perilously close to ripping open his side. "You mean I can't kill anyone? I'm timelocked from killing someone, even if they're trying to kill me?" He dodged again and scrambled for his cudgel, lying next to the first man he'd knocked unconscious. The man he was fighting was quick, though, and lunged in, jamming his weapon forward and trying to impale Mark through his stomach with it. Mark blocked with the shield, shuddering in panic as he felt the tines burst through the wood and punch out the back side, dangerously close to his belly. But the trident was caught now, and now the two men wrestled back and forth desperately, with the retiarius trying to free his weapon and Mark doing everything he could to prevent that exact thing. Suddenly he realized that he was doing exactly the wrong thing, and simply let go of his shield. The gladiator now held his trident awkwardly, weighed down as it was by the shield embedded on it, and with no safe recourse to get it back. He flailed at Mark with the weighted edges of his net, threatening to break smaller bones if he got in too close. Mark dashed for the cudgel again, and this time his opponent couldn't quickly follow him. Mark picked it up and tried putting the man on the defensive, skirting around him, looking for an opening to strike. The man glared at him balefully, swinging the net if Mark got too close. He's not armored and he can't use his weapon; Mark reminded himself. He flung his cudgel at the gladiator's face and surged in while the man was trying to block the unexpected projectile. His trident was weighted down with Mark's shield, so he was using the net frantically to avoid being struck. Mark plowed into the man and took him down to the ground, using his advantage in height and weight. His foe wheezed as he landed hard on his back, beginning to thrash as Mark straddled his chest and pummeled at him. A lucky punch got through and Mark snapped his foe's head to the side with a right across the jaw. He went to sleep. The crowds were shouting again angrily as Mark stood, recovering his stupid club and taking the man's net, since the shield was wrecked, and the trident was no use since he apparently wasn't allowed to kill anyone. How did time lock know, anyway? He bent over, trying to control his breathing and his pulse. His head was spinning again from the anxiety. What the Hell was his future self thinking, leaving that damn tab to use? What sort of advantage and futuristic superpower was panic? You're pumping adrenalin; it makes runners faster, it makes them run longer; it makes people stronger in a crisis; He opened his eyes and stood, turning around and looking at the thousands upon thousands of people who hated him. Fuck those people. He turned and looked at the emperor and held the weighted net in the air, scowling at the sovereign. "That all you got, asshole?" he shouted, feeling himself get angrier and more aggressive with every moment. Becky could barely hear what Mark was yelling over the noise of the crowds, but she shifted somewhat uncomfortably when she felt the mood of the man next to her darken. "So that's how he wants to play it, hmm?" muttered the emperor, resting his cheek against his hand. "Uppity thing, this boy of yours, Lady Horatia." "Oh, he is no longer mine, great emperor; this behavior, reprehensible as it might be, is unknown to me. Please dispose of the upstart as you see fit," Becky replied, knowing better than to be perceived as defending Mark. "You can count on that, my lady;” he replied, nodding absently as he made some vague motion to a signaler. "If you will excuse me, sire, I must depart for a moment," Becky said, trying to not sound urgent. The emperor looked at her quizzically for a moment: "You would miss his doom?" She made a show of blushing: "His life and death mean nothing to me now, but all this excitement has undone me, sire. I must go and relieve myself, because it wouldn't do to piss myself in your presence." "Very well, then," he said, nodding. "But try to be back soon." Becky stood and bowed before exiting the emperor's spectator box, taking Nanu with her, pulling her along by the wrist. "My lady, is now a good time to see to such functions?" asked the Egyptian girl as she followed the blonde woman. "Is Bonosus not in great danger? I thought you meant to rescue him." "I can't rescue him sitting next to that pompous ass, now can I?" Becky hissed as she strode down one of the hallways. "And keep your voice down; I don't want people to know what we're doing." "Sorry, mistress," Nanu replied, blushing. She allowed herself to be dragged along for several seconds before asking her next question. "What are we doing, exactly?" "You'll see soon enough," Becky said grimly, her blue eyes flashing as she pushed through the throngs of people in the hallways that ran around the length of the Colosseum. "I hope you wore your cock-sucking lips today;” The huge man lumbered towards Mark; he was well over half a foot taller than Mark, and a whole lot heavier. Beneath his layer of fat, he was obviously muscular and very strong. He carried a shield in one hand, a wicked sword in the other. His loincloth was made of tough leather, covered in metal studs. His wide belt was also braced with metal. His right arm was protected from shoulder to wrist by a cauldron and gleaming steel plates. On his head was an intimidating helmet, the face mask looking like something out of "Mad Max: Fury Road," with a peaked top that sported what looked like a curved metal blade or sail. It looked like he was wearing a can opener on his head. "Fuck;” Mark whined to himself as he stood his ground, trying to figure out how he was going to keep from getting killed. He held his cudgel and his net, trying to look threatening, but the gorilla coming at him didn't seem to care. He jumped out of the way as the Samnite slashed with his sword. He tried to move in, but was sent flying backwards when the gladiator suddenly slammed the front of his shield into him. Landing on his back, Mark only had a split second to roll out of the way as the point of his foe's sword drove down into the dirt where'd he'd only just been. He kicked at the man's leg, but it held, and he scrambled away, looking to put some distance between them. "Hey, Jason Voorhies!" he called out, waving his club in the air. "Over here, candy-ass!" The gladiator turned his head to look at him while trying to wrench his blade from the hard-packed earth. He finally did so and stood upright, rolling his shoulders and striding forward again. He slashed with his blade, but Mark dodged once again and then threw his net over his foe. The Samnite got caught in it, but didn't go down, trying angrily to remove it. Mark jumped on his back and began hammering away with his stupid little club. The giant staggered about, flailing wildly to dislodge his smaller foe. The jeering from the crowd was punctuated with increasing amounts of laughter at this ridiculous spectacle. Mark hung on for dear life with one arm wrapped around the man, his other hand whacking away at the foe's helmet. But his own net was preventing the blows from being fully effective, despite the metallic ringing of his strikes. Unable to reach the pest on his back or use his weapons, the huge man simply fell backwards, hoping to crush Mark. It wasn't graceful, and it wasn't pretty, but it did stun Mark long enough to stop him from hitting his foe with his cudgel. "Oh fuck;” Mark wheezed as the Samnite rolled off him and struggled to get up while removing the netting. Mark slowly crawled away, shaking his head to stop the world from spinning. The jellied tissue that was once his lungs was on fire, and strained to get oxygen circulating through him. He heard his foe growl in frustration, and then he felt himself getting grabbed by the scruff of the neck and the back of his loincloth before being hauled completely off the ground; The crowd went wild as the gladiator threw Bonosus bodily to the ground, as if trying to crush his bones with the impact. He picked him up again and dashed him to the hard-packed earth, having given up on removing the net. Mark protected himself from the slams as best he could, but it wasn't helping much, given the strength of the man who was mauling him. The fourth time getting slammed to the ground was about Mark's limit, and the world had become nonsense around him; everything sounded like it was being played in drunken slow motion. His vision swam, and he really just wanted to take a damn nap. He shook his head trying to clear it, remembering that Becky had bought him time, so he'd best not waste it getting rag-dolled by this shit stain. While the Samnite was reaching down for him, Mark managed to roll onto his back and kicked up, hard, between the gladiator's legs. His foot found the man's crotch, and while the force of the blow was lessened by the net's interference, his foe still groaned, and his knees bent. Mark kicked again, and then once more, having finally staggered his foe. The man sank to his knees, holding his crotch. Mark couldn't see his face, but he was obviously in a great deal of pain. Mark staggered to his feet, ignoring the crowd's jeers and screams, focusing only on his foe. The gladiator was now protecting his crotch with his hands, so Mark couldn't kick him there, so he slammed the bottom of his foot into the larger man's chest, knocking him on his back, where he lay moaning. Mark stamped on his crotch for good measure. "Stop, dammit!" wailed the man. "Quit kicking me in the cock!" "Fuck you!" Mark spat, scowling. His chest was on fire and his entire body throbbed in pain. "You were trying to kill me, fuckface! Why should I give a shit what you think?" "I'll stop, I'll stop!" the man pleaded, writhing under the net and totally at Mark's mercy. "Just don't wreck my cock, I was gonna fuck tonight!" "Yeah, right," Mark sneered. "Who were you gonna fuck?" Mark spun as he heard an ululating war cry, and his eyes widened as he saw a woman running toward him, carrying a whip in one hand and a sword in the other. Her spiked hair was wet with blue woad paste, and her eyes were mad with battle lust. "Her;” the Samnite indicated. Becky and Nanu were both on their knees, mouths bobbing back and forth on the cocks of the men they had leaning back against the wall, groaning and pumping their hips. Neither of the men could believe their luck; they thought this would be another boring day for measly pay. From up here, they couldn't even see the action down in the arena well. Sulus and Catullus, two former merchant marines, were charged with keeping the Velarium in place during the spectacles. Their extensive experience with canvas sails made them ideal for this tedious but essential work. At least, that's what they were told, despite the thirty asses a day they received proclaiming otherwise. So imagine their good fortune and delight when this patrician woman and her slave-girl happened to wander on up, espy the two men, and offer to suck their cocks, without even charging them anything! Talk about Saturnalia in Quintilis! Nanu moaned as she swirled her tongue around the head of the cock she was sucking on, holding it by the base of the shaft, her eyes closed. This seemed like an odd time to be doing something like this, but Lady Aurora had been quite firm that it was part of the plan. So be it. Besides, that strange little patch her new mistress had affixed to the skin under her arm was making her so horny right now. Kneeling beside the slave, Becky's free hand reached out and took hold of Nanu's, giving it a squeeze. They continued pushing their wet mouths along the lengths of the throbbing shafts, both girls getting wetter and more aroused with each passing moment. Nanu pulled her mouth off the cock for a moment, sucking in air and breathing heavily as she massaged it with her tiny hand. Her face was flushed as she looked over at her new mistress, her eyes glazed with desire. Becky nodded her assent. Nanu stood quickly and lifted the long trails of her garment, exposing her ass and cunt to the man she'd been servicing. She turned around and leaned back against him, squirming her ass against his cock, making him moan loudly. With great need, she grabbed hold of his tool and speared herself down on it, sighing loudly before beginning to wiggle back and forth on him, shivering as he slid in and out of her. Becky rose to her feet soon after, moving around to face Nanu and leaning forward, with her hands on the slave-girl's shoulders and looking into her eyes. The marine got behind Becky and gripped her hips, pushing inside her. Becky moaned into Nanu's mouth as she kissed her, their tongues tangling hungrily while their tits squirmed and rubbed together. The men held tight and fucked the two women as hard as they could, looking to cum as quickly as possible. Hips smacked against asses and moans grew louder. Becky and Nanu now panted through an open-mouthed kiss, their hands groping one another in need. The Egyptian girl pressed back as hard as she could on the cock she was impaled on, while Becky ground in eager circles, yearning for release. Seconds later they were wailing into one another's mouths, shuddering in ecstasy as the men groaned and began pumping cum inside their wanton pussies. Becky and Nanu were relentless, milking the men for all they were worth, until they slumped to the stone floor, almost insensate from the orgasms these strange women had given them. Straddling the marines now, and facing into one another, Becky and Nanu continued kissing and fondling, even as they moved slowly up and down on the rigid poles they'd been fucking. "Umm, mistress;” Nanu said dreamily, lost in Becky's blue eyes. "I know, my love," Becky murmured, giving Nanu many light kisses on the lips, as if she was unable to help herself. "But we must; smooch; get ready to; do our part; smooch; and rescue Mark;” Nanu pulled back from the kiss and looked up in confusion. "Mark?" "Bonosus," Becky corrected herself, waving it off. "I'll explain later. Now help me get ready;” The crowd was howling with laughter as Mark ran around the arena in a panic, chased by the gladiatrix, who cracked her whip at him, screeching for him to get his ass back there so she could kick it. Mark didn't need oppositional defiance disorder to ignore her demands. The tip of that whip was cracking awfully close behind him. The Samnite he'd downed earlier grunted and flopped down again as Mark stamped on his back while running over him. "Don't try to get up, asshole, you promised!" Mark shouted angrily. "If you do, I don't care if she's trying to kill me, I'll come over there and kick you in the balls so hard you'll be spitting them out!" "Okay! Okay!" the man shouted back, lying on his stomach and waiting. "But I hope she catches you and rips your skin off to wear as a cloak!" "Oh, go sit on a Doric column!" Mark grumbled, deking to the left to try to throw her off. At this point, the crowd was chanting something, what he could only Assume Was Her Name "Achilleia! Achilleia!" "What is that, Latin for Psycho Hose-Beast?" Mark complained loudly, noticing that he had not gained any ground on his foe. He only had the stupid cudgel, whereas she had a wicked sword and a goddam whip. He had the distinct impression he couldn't tire her; she had the look of a woman on a murder mission; her eyes were wild with bloodlust, the scream escaping her lips singing of his gory doom. "She's the greatest female gladiator in Rome!" called out the Samnite, still watching from his confines beneath the net. "She's been more than a match for many men who have fought her!" "Singing my praises doesn't get you more cunt than normal, Rullus!" Achilleia snapped, still chasing her quarry. Gods, this slave could run! Pity she had to kill him, he was well-built and had a great ass! She pressed harder, now swiping with her sword, since using her whip slowed her down some. Like most gladiators, she was wearing little armour, only leather greaves, a leather loincloth, an abbreviated leather cuirass that exposed her midriff but held her tits in place, and a leather cauldron and brace on one arm. A steel fillet around her forehead glittered with glass beads, off-setting her wild blue death-hawk hair. She whooped in triumph as the tip of her sword tore open the back of his loincloth and it fell away, leaving Mark completely exposed as he fled for his life. The crowd was laughing hysterically again. "Dammit, I hate freeballing when I'm running!" he shouted angrily, grimacing as his balls slapped around his thighs. "You have no idea how uncomfortable this is!" "Stop running then, coward!" Achilleia taunted, enjoying the view even as she tried to kill him. "I only offer the bliss of death! One red kiss of my blade across your throat, slave, and you; Off!" Done with running, Mark stopped very suddenly and braced himself, hunkering down so that Achilleia plowed into him, completely unprepared. She staggered backward and Mark whirled and grappled onto her, preventing her from using her weapons. The gladiatrix snarled and tried to knee him in the crotch, but he kept his legs judiciously in the way. They tottered and staggered about, vying for control, until they tripped over the Samnite, who was helpless to avoid them. "Oh Fuck!" he wheezed as they landed on him and then rolled off, still tussling. "Welcome to my world, dickface!" Mark shouted back at him, still wrestling with Achilleia, who meant to murder him repeatedly. Out of desperation, and with the effects of the tab still coursing through his blood, he picked her up bodily and threw her to the ground, her sword clattering away. He dropped to his knees instantly, smacking her in the face with his scrotum. "Teabag!" he shouted before whirling around and grappling onto her, trying to subdue her. He hated the thought of punching a woman, but she was trying to eviscerate him, so an exception might be in order. Achilleia was a veteran of the gladiator pits, however, and not so easily dealt with. She recovered and thrashed around, screeching and trying to claw her foe's eyes out. He swatted the whip from her hands before she could strike him with it. Mark found her increasingly difficult to manage, using his weight on top of her body to keep her in place. That plan went south, however, when she wrapped her legs around his waist and began rocking back and forth, until she was on top. They rolled around in the dust while the crowd went insane. Mark had her arms gripped tightly, out to the sides, which forced her body down closer to his. The wild look in her eyes chilled his blood, and she tried to bite his neck repeatedly, to tear his throat out. He countered frantically by using his head to shove hers away from his tender skin, and the result must have looked ridiculous, the two of them pushing and sparring with their heads. "Gurr, let; me; kill; you!" Achilleia hissed, struggling to maintain her balance over her stronger foe. "I'll make it quick, I promise!" "It'll feel good, I promise!" Mark sneered, butting the side of her head to knock it away. "Why would I make this easy for you?" "Gonna; rip you; a new;” Achilleia strained, pushing down harder. She then paused, her eyes going wide with shock. "What; gods, do you have a hard-on?" Mark used the momentary pause to roll her over, her arms pinned beside her head. Achilleia's eyes were still wide as she goggled up at him. Unfortunately, yes, he was hard again. Either he was developing some sort of danger fetish, or the hormones weren't quite as out of his system as he thought. They struggled and thrashed, with the look of shock on Achilleia's face becoming one of irritation, then a weird determination. She wasn't fighting about so much, and she seemed to be pushing with her hips, almost pumping with them. She glared and bit her lip. The roaring of the crowds was slowly abating as they watched the proceedings on the arena floor. What was happening? Seconds ago, the gladiatrix had been trying to kill the slave, now they were; what were they doing? Mark kept her pinned beneath him, and couldn't help but join her in squirming as they glared into one another's eyes. Achilleia was undulating her hips now, her upper body virtually motionless. Mark grimaced at the feel of the toughened leather around her middle grinding on his hard-on. "Dammit;” Achilleia growled. "Let go of my god-rotting hand so I can move my loincloth!" Mark took a chance and let go of one of her hands. It flashed down and pulled aside the leather garment before taking hold of his hard cock and guiding it to her entrance. Without another thought, Mark pushed down, deep inside her. Achilleia wailed loudly and wrapped her legs around his waist again, pulling him in deeper still. The entire Colosseum throng had gone silent as the spectators stared, stunned by what they were witnessing. All that could be heard, echoing through the giant stadium, was Achilleia's cries of pleasure. Was this really happening? "Achilleia? What the Hell?" the Samnite yelled in outrage, his girlfriend getting fucked by Rome's most hated slave mere feet away from him. "Shut up, Rullus, he's fucking huge!" Achilleia shouted back, pumping her hips wildly against Mark. The gladiator did as he was told and simply sulked, turning his head to look elsewhere. The emperor watched out stonily, not at all impressed with the turn of events his grand spectacle for the people had taken. He'd heard of the blasphemy this upstart slave had committed, and this was supposed to be a damnation of a great sin. Now it was another blasphemy. And where the Hell was Lady Aurora? He napped his fingers and one of his servants leaned in close, to see what his master wanted. "Have them all killed;” growled the emperor, determined to save face somehow. Mark thrust harder and harder, while Achilleia yelped and bucked beneath him, holding onto his back and with her legs still wrapped around his back. Nearby, Rullus was resting his helmeted head on his hand and rapping his fingers against the packed earth, trying to look bored. Not difficult for a man tangled inside a net. "Any time, you two;” he grumbled. "Oh, cram it, Linzer-head," Mark spat. "Say one more thing and I'll fuck her ass next!" "Oh!" Achilleia wailed, grinding and thrusting against Mark desperately. "I'm gonna; I ‘ Then she seized up and pushed up with all her strength, clenching her teeth so hard they might have cracked. As Rome watched on in stunned silence, the gladiatrix shrieked to the gods and came, hard. Mark shuddered and groaned, pumping profuse amounts of cum deep inside her clenching cunt. He thrust madly, emptying himself into her. Finally, they were both spent. Achilleia lay still beneath him, her chest rising and falling, skin glistening with sweat. Mark, exhausted, rested his forehead against her shoulder, too tired to defend himself if she tried to kill him now. Fortunately, his death was the farthest thing from her mind. Seconds of silence passed, before the thousands of spectators in the stands erupted into a wave of cheers and catcalls. Mark smiled and chuckled tiredly. "That can't be good;” he mused. "Nope," she agreed, sighing and biting on a knuckle as the last of the orgasm pulsed through her. "After that, they're certainly going to kill us. All of us. It doesn't matter; I would have died in the arena eventually. At least this way, I died with a cock in me and cumming hard." "Don't be so certain about that;” Mark replied, finally looking up and seeing all the gates opening and dozens of legionaries rushing toward them, spears at the ready. "Ah, I don't like this!" Nanu whined as she shimmied out along one of the corbels that held the vast awning in place. She held on like grim death as she edged forward, a small but sharp knife in one hand. "You can do it, my love," Becky said encouragingly, watching from their original position where they'd fucked the two marines. Both men were still snoozing, but she had tied their hands and feet for extra security. She would have done Nanu's job herself, but she was taller and heavier than the Egyptian girl, who stood a much better chance of succeeding than she did without snapping the braces or corbels. "Look straight ahead and ignore the sounds below." So of course, Nanu looked down. "He's fucking!" she hissed, her eyes narrowing. "He's fucking the gladiatrix that's supposed to be killing him! I may kill him! He doesn't need saving, I do!" "Nanu, focus!" Becky insisted. "Get to your position and await my signal." "Yes, mistress;” sighed the slave-girl sullenly. Once in position, Nanu held on tight, trying not to think about the dizzying heights she was suspended from. Everyone seemed like ants far below her. Except for Bonosus and his whore of a gladiator; she could see them very clearly, to the place where she could make out his throbbing cock as it thrust in and out of her unworthy cunt. He had a lot of explaining to do when this was over. The crowd was watching in stunned silence, unable to believe what they were seeing. But then Becky and Nanu heard the gladiatrix wailing as she came. Bonosus' groans of pleasure burned in Nanu's ears, while Becky just rolled her eyes, sighed and tapped her foot impatiently. Thunderous cheers erupted from the crowd; they'd come for blood and been rewarded with live pornography! Nanu was scowling still, when she noticed the gates opening and legionaries pouring out of them, converging on the five figures in the center of the arena. "Mistress;” Nanu said nervously, her anxiety for Bonosus' well-being overcoming her jealousy. "Now, Nanu!" Becky yelled, making sure her slave could hear her. She was already working frantically to cut through the thick ropes in one of the giant pulleys that moved the Velarium into position. Nanu, meanwhile, was sawing at the edge of the rope that held the corbel she was on in place. She gritted her teeth as she watched the steel knife bite through the thick fiber cable until finally it snapped free. The rope whipped about as it unraveled, causing a cascade of loosening canvas across the broad length of the famed awning. Becky, meanwhile, finished cutting through the rope in the giant pulley she'd selected, dodging hastily as it snapped and flailed about before spinning away. The giant canvas sheets comprising the Velarium buckled and gave way, while the corbels and rope masts retracted rapidly. "Mistress!" Nanu keened, holding on like grim death as the corbel she was on, no longer held in place by the giant ropes, snapped back toward the solid stone walls of the Colosseum. "Jump, Nanu!" Becky called out, standing on the edge of the wall and holding her arms out. "I'll catch you! Trust mistress!" Nanu squeezed her eyes shut and jumped; Becky wheezed as she caught the flying girl, tumbling to the floor with her and holding her tight. Nanu was shivering in her grasp, so Becky just held her for a few seconds and caressed her raven hair. The slave-girl looked up at her savior and nodded, so Becky stood them up, listening to the shrieks of panic as the Velarium floated down relentlessly. "Teamwork, Nanu!" she said excitedly as they stood. "Let's see what happens next!" In the Arena. Mark faced one direction warily, while Rullus and Achilleia stood behind him, squaring off against other legionaries who were closing in. The original gladiator and the retiarius were also conscious and now stood with them, brandishing what weapons they could. Mark felt silly sporting only his cudgel, but it seemed dumb to not let the gladiators have the weapons they were trained with. His cock was still hard, and leaking cum from the tip. He saw Achilleia slowly turning her head to look down at it longingly. "Eyes front, Achilleia!" he snapped, not in the mood to die. She returned to glaring balefully at the encroaching soldiers. There must have been a hundred of the legionaries. That was twenty-to-one odds. He decided to not mention that to his enemies-turned-allies, since he wasn't sure if they understood ratios in any event. If their math was as poor as their hygiene, why bother? "When I thought I'd die in the emperor's sight, this isn't how I pictured it," Rullus growled, brandishing his sword. "I hadn't envisioned dying for that cocksucker at all," Achilleia replied, spitting in contempt at the foes in front of her. "Damned if I'm gonna give him the satisfaction of a clean kill. People will remember this day, to his embarrassment!" The legionaries advanced, the circle tightening. They were protected by their large scutum body shields, and their spears pointed threateningly at the little rebel group. Mark wasn't sure what good he would do here, since he was armed with a club smaller than his dick, and he was the only untrained gladiator. But then he noticed rippling movement above, looked up and grinned. The velarium became dislodged from its moorings and like a vast sail or flag, began floating down over the stadium. People noticed, began screeching in panic, and stampeding. "Right on, Becks;” he said with satisfaction as his day began to look up. The emperor looked up, scowling as he saw the giant canvas sheet descending, fluttering menacingly as it enveloped the upper levels of seating. Panic ensued, with people scampering around pell-mell, trying to escape. "I really hate the gods;” he thought darkly as the canvas touched down around him and everything went to shit. Becky, standing on the edge of the wall and looking down over the chaos and mayhem she had caused, with tens of thousands thrown into panic, cackled gaily and clapped her hands before yanking down her top to expose her tits and holding her arms wide and yelling loudly across her kingdom of madness. "Are you not entertained?" she shouted, reveling in her triumph. God, she'd always wanted to use that line. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Mark shouted as he and his new allies raced down the hallway, shooing everyone in front of him. "Faster, if you wanna live!" The legionaries had forgotten all about the little group of rebels once the madness ensued, racing toward the emperor to rescue him. Mark used the opportunity to escape, bringing his former foes with him. He wasn't terribly interested in seeing them die, and they might prove very useful in getting out of here in one piece. Rullus had led them through a small, little-known door in the wall of the arena, one used generally only by pit masters to monitor the proceedings. His titan frame barely fit in it, but he led the way dutifully. "Where are we going?" Achillea asked, happy to be escaping, but at least wanting to know what the plan was. She had her whip and her sword in hand again. "The most convenient, flat and open space you know of beneath the Colosseum," Mark replied, hurrying along behind her. "A place almost no one knows about or uses." "One of the old training spaces," grunted Rullus. "It hasn't been used in years. Follow me!" Their course took them deeper beneath the stadium, through winding halls and narrow corridors and staircases. They finally reached a wide chamber, in the middle of which stood Becky, Nanu and Domitia. The former Vestal and the slave-girl seemed stunned to see the small party approaching, and the gladiators gaped as Lady Aurora and her slave ran into one another's arms, kissing deeply and feverishly, speaking in some unknown tongue. "Right!" Mark said, finally disengaging from Becky's tongue as he looked around, eyes flashing with determination. "I know this is going to sound weird, but I need you all to trust me. We're going to get you out of here, as quickly as we can." "How?" asked the Retiarius, looking about warily. "They'll find us eventually!" "I know, and what I'm going to say will sound like magic, but just run with it, okay?" Mark replied, walking over to the Holmes Field Device, which Becky had been kind enough to retrieve. He wasn't sure how, but she was better with this temporal shit than he was. And they trusted one another by now. "This contraption will get us out of here, but it's not big enough for all of us at once. I'm gonna take Lady Aurora and Domitia first, then come back for a few more, then the last load." Rullus nodded: "You spared my life, and I entrust you with it. Achilleia and I will go last, holding the room if the enemy comes." "Oh, Rullus;” Achilleia sighed, looking up at the hulking gladiator, her expression a dreamy one, before she suddenly scowled and smacked him on the back of his helmeted head. "You romantic asshole." Mark left them to argue while he hustled Becky and Domitia onto the platform, which was already switched on, lights and readings blinking around the surface. Becky swatted Domitia's hand as she tried to touch a dial. "You know where we're going?" he asked, hoping she had a better handle on this than he did. She nodded, smiling. "Leave it to me, Mark. I think you'll like this solution;” The climate was certainly a change from that of Rome, but it was also a pleasant experience in its own right. The city around them, built of red brick, sandy-colored stone, and studded with stately palm trees, reminded Mark of eastern cities in every movie he'd ever seen. Beyond the walls stretched endless expanses of desert, in which the city stood as a shining jewel in a vast sea of scorching sand. He didn't know why Becky knew to park the machine where she did, but he also knew she had figured out how to use his Holmes Field Device on her own, so he wasn't questioning it. Safe from prying eyes, and after two more trips back to the Colosseum to gather the other rebels, Mark now found himself in an ancient temple in the shape of a ziggurat, with priestesses standing in front of them and bowing. Unlike the Vestals, the white garments of these priestesses were delightfully spare, exposing more than it covered. "Lady Aurora Horatia," one of them said humbly. "Your timing is fortuitous, and we gladly accept your offer. Domitia will be given a new life as a priestess of Nanaya, or as she is known in your tongue, Suadela." The priestesses all walked up to Domitia and kissed her, welcoming her into their sisterhood. The former Vestal shed tears, not in sorrow, but because she had a new beginning. Nanaya, as the goddess was known in this far-flung province, was an ancient Sumerian goddess of sensuality and lust. When the Romans had conquered the land, they readily identified her with Suadela, to keep the peace. The priestess smiled at Mark and Becky again. "And for your generous donation of gold, we will take on your four friends here, to guard our temple, as the garrison makes no effort to do so. They are now, in their own way, lifelong servants and devotees of the goddess." The four gladiators beamed proudly. Since serving Nanaya, even as guardians of her temple, meant food, lodging and getting laid by her harlot-priestesses, they were more than amenable to the idea. "Lady Aurora," Domitia intoned, taking Becky's hands in hers and smiling slyly. "Will you consent to Bonosus and yourself being the first to receive my blessings as a priestess of Nanaya?" "I wouldn't have it any other way, my dear;” Becky purred, pulling Domitia into her arms and kissing her deeply. A small villa in Roman Italy; Mark sipped wine from a goblet while Becky lay nearby on a couch, wearing nothing while Nanu sat on a small stool and massaged her feet. The sultry afternoon suited everyone, and they were finally at peace. "Helluva trip, Becks," Mark mused, draining his glass and then pouring more for himself. "You've gotten really good with the Holmes Field Device now. I seriously thought it was me who left the adrenalin tab for my discovery under the Colosseum, but it was actually you." "Sorry to scare you there," Becky sighed, as Nanu worked on her toes individually, sometimes even kissing them as she rubbed oil into them. "I found them in our tab supply, and thought it was our best bet. I just jumped behind a few hours when no one was around and stashed them in that cell for you." "So it wasn't even me coming back from the future to save myself," Mark chuckled. "Here I was so confident that I'd lived, that I couldn't be killed because future-self was looking out for me, but no, it was current you. So I could've been killed at any point, even if time lock kept me from killing anyone else." "It was a little bit messy, but you did survive, and that's what counts." Becky pointed out, caressing one of her tits lazily while enjoying Nanu's exquisite touch. "So what're we gonna do with her?" Mark asked, referencing the Egyptian slave-girl. Nanu had gotten used to her mistress and her manservant speaking in this weird, harsh language, and thought nothing of it anymore; when they needed her, they spoke Latin or her own tongue to her. Becky sighed contentedly and puddled further into the couch. Nanu's foot massages were utter bliss. "I was considering letting her stay here, and simply look after this little villa I bought for me. Whenever we visited, we'd just come back as close to the time we left as possible, but I have no idea if we could guarantee time snarls not getting in the way. So I'm bringing her home with me." Mark raised an eyebrow. "That a good idea? Or even possible?" Becky shrugged. "If she can't be brought with us, the Holmes Field Device won't work, right? So we care for her here. If it does allow it, I'll keep her with me in my house and teach her about her new world. I'll just say she's a foreign student bunking with me." "Literally, I might add." Mark quipped, holding up his goblet and winking. "Oh, you," Becky giggled while Nanu shed her clothes and crawled over Becky, straddling her hips and beginning to squirm their pussies together slowly. "I don't think she's gonna give up on the notion of being my slave-girl any time soon; it seems to make her feel safe. If she asks about you as a slave, I'll say I freed you." "Well, I was pretty enslaved to you for a while there," Mark chuckled. "Funny, I remember being so in love with you while those tabs were in effect, and I remember it fondly. But at this point, I'm just back to feeling like you're my dear friend, and I love you, just not in love any more, ya' know?" Becky sighed and nodded as she placed her hands gently on Nanu's tits and caressed them while undulating beneath the slave-girl. "I know what you mean. Talk about exhilarating, right? We should do that again at some point, just for funsies." "I'm in," Mark agreed, as his cock hardened from watching the two girls make love. He put down his wine, stood up and moved in behind them, kneeling at the bottom of the couch and sinking his cock deep inside Becky, making her moan as he started to slide in and out of her. "And what about our other acquisitions?" he asked, caressing and squeezing Nanu's ass while he fucked his Physics teacher. "Uh, the clothes we'll keep at my place, for future use," she breathed, loving the feel of Nanu's moist cunt on hers while Mark fucked deeply. She felt Nanu shiver and gasp as Mark pulled out of her and pushed into the slave-girl. "And I bought those big amphorae of Falernian wine, there's twenty-six liters in each. We'll bury them where we know nature has never been disturbed back in our time, and then retrieve them. Voila, Roman wine for dinner every night." "I'm gonna have fun explaining that to my parents;” Mark chuckled as he slid back into Becky, making her cry out. Dinner with Family. Dhallyla stared at the liquid in her glass in wonder while her family sat at the table for dinner. It was quite unlike anything she'd ever tasted before. "Mark, what; what did you say this was called again?" she asked. He shrugged as he ate. "It's a Roman-style wine, called Falernian. Lots of people are recreating ancient alcohol recipes now, so I thought we'd give this a shot. Pretty nice, hmm?" "Very strong," his sister Roxy rasped as she put down her wine glass and made a bit of a face. "Very, very strong." "That's why the Romans and Greeks mixed their wine with water," he chuckled. "Some Roman talked about not being able to bring an open flame near wine because it could catch fire. So I mixed it with water, like the instructions said. Sorry if it's still strong." "Where did you get this again?" his father asked. "Ren Faire," he said easily. "All sorts of brewers and people showing off their wine and beer skills these days at them, so I thought I'd give it a shot, ya' know? Bought a couple of bottles." "It's certainly different, but I can grow to like it," his mother mused. "Make sure you get more before we run out." "I can do that," Mark replied cheerfully. Later that night, he was sitting at his desk in his room, surfing for eras to visit during their next adventure, when the door to his room clicked shut. He turned his head to see his sister leaning back against the door, looking at him pointedly. "Something I can do for you, Rox?" he asked plainly, keeping his eyes on his research. "Now that you mention it, yeah," she said, folding her arms and wearing that insufferable smirk of hers. She never stopped reminding him who the elder sibling was. "So I did some looking around online, and there hasn't been a Ren Faire within five hundred miles of us in the last six months." Mark paused in his surfing and slowly turned to look at his sister. "So," she said, walking slowly toward him. "I figure it's about time you told me what the Hell is really going on;” Loose ends, scores to settle, a moral quandaries abound! It's Your Own Fault You Snooped! Mark didn't speak for several seconds, trying his best to not gape at Roxy. She'd always been somewhat suspicious of him when he did just about anything, but the fact that she'd done actual research this time was something new. She had played her hand, and he was cornered. But still, he found himself not sure what to say. "Well, c'mon, you little trouser snake," moving away from the door and sauntering toward him. She could tell she'd caught him dead to rights about something, but now she needed to find out what it was. "Ya' might as well 'fess up, because I somehow doubt you want mom and dad to know what you're up to." The mere thought brought a shiver to Mark and left a cold sweat on his brow. He swallowed, trying not to panic. Roxy had less mercy in a sibling confrontation than Mike Tyson had in the ring. He thought of the number of times she'd beaten his ass for tattling on her when they were younger, and how she'd always get some brutal form of revenge he was unlikely to forget. And he dreaded the thought of how she could screw this up for him. "I'm almost not wanting to find out, at least for a while, because watching your mind flop around in panic is kinda fun," she said, smirking as she stopped in front of him and leaned forward. "But I need to make a decision about whether the 'rents oughta know, so let's speed this up, okay?" She then turned and sat on the edge of his bed, leaning back on her hands, one leg crossed over the other as she looked at him pointedly. "Spill it, little brother." His mind raced. What could he tell her? She'd caught him in a flat-out lie that he had acquired his Falernian wine from a Ren Faire, and had no doubt pieced together that his other recent exotic acquisitions were likewise not from where he'd claimed. So what were her suspicions? She no doubt was assuming, quite reasonably, that he was involved in some illicit activity that

This is the third episode of our new Unjammed series, with a topic that a lot of teachers still are struggling with in their classrooms: chronic student absences and the consequent empty desks in the classroom.In this episode, he shares how difficult it can be as a teacher to encounter so many of these “empty desks”—and in particular how much it takes as a teacher to build and maintain a classroom that is motivating and purposeful for those there and taking care of business while also being a welcoming, affirming space for students who have been absent, sometimes quite regularly. Straddling this daily as a teacher? It is really difficult—and it felt like it deserved space for reflection in this episode.Also: have your own potential Unjammed reflection you'd be willing to share or have a conversation about?* Email thebrokencopier@substack.com and let us know what it's about! We would love to bring different teacher experiences and perspectives into this space.* You can also share your reflection directly at this Fanlist link—and you never know, it could show up on a future episode! (Note: we would reach out first to let you know and get permission.)As always, thanks to: Alberto Lugo, one of Jim's former students, for contributing their music to The Broken Copier podcast—and also Tom Csatari for allowing us to use his band's recording of “Woodstock” from their 2020 album, Garden.* Find Tom's work at uncivilizedtom.com, and on Instagram @banduncivilized.* Find Alberto's work at djsynchro.weebly.com, and on Instagram @djsynchro.Thanks for listening! Share or leave a review if you're willing, and take care of yourselves as educators as we finish out the school year! This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit thebrokencopier.substack.com

Zac Clark and ForceofPhil delve into the intricacies of deck archetypes in Premodern, focusing on the dichotomy between synergy-based and combo-based strategies. They explore various decks, analyzing their win conditions and the importance of specific cards versus overall synergy. The discussion also touches on notable decks like Psychotog, Stasis, and Chance Control, debating their effectiveness and strategies. The conversation concludes with a call to action for community engagement through Patreon support.TakeawaysThere are two macro archetypes: deck synergy and card combo.Survival of the Fittest straddles the line between synergy and one-card strategy.Control decks aim to outlast opponents rather than rely on a single card.Psychotog can be seen as a control strategy rather than a one-card deck.Stasis has issues with finding the card consistently in gameplay.Black Vice may not be effective in many matchups.Chance Control combines elements of combo and control strategies.Decks like Goblins rely on synergy rather than a single win condition.Community engagement is vital for content creators.Players should consider their deck preferences and strategies.Chapters00:00 Macro Archetypes in Deck Building01:59 Analyzing Deck Strategies04:36 Control Decks and Their Goals09:23 Straddling the Line: Psychotog12:34 The Role of Parallax Tide16:53 Stasis and Its Challenges21:52 Exploring Green Stompy22:22 Chance Control: A Combo Control Deck

Zac Clark and ForceofPhil delve into the intricacies of deck archetypes in Premodern, focusing on the dichotomy between synergy-based and combo-based strategies. They explore various decks, analyzing their win conditions and the importance of specific cards versus overall synergy. The discussion also touches on notable decks like Psychotog, Stasis, and Chance Control, debating their effectiveness and strategies. The conversation concludes with a call to action for community engagement through Patreon support.TakeawaysThere are two macro archetypes: deck synergy and card combo.Survival of the Fittest straddles the line between synergy and one-card strategy.Control decks aim to outlast opponents rather than rely on a single card.Psychotog can be seen as a control strategy rather than a one-card deck.Stasis has issues with finding the card consistently in gameplay.Black Vice may not be effective in many matchups.Chance Control combines elements of combo and control strategies.Decks like Goblins rely on synergy rather than a single win condition.Community engagement is vital for content creators.Players should consider their deck preferences and strategies.Chapters00:00 Macro Archetypes in Deck Building01:59 Analyzing Deck Strategies04:36 Control Decks and Their Goals09:23 Straddling the Line: Psychotog12:34 The Role of Parallax Tide16:53 Stasis and Its Challenges21:52 Exploring Green Stompy22:22 Chance Control: A Combo Control Deck

(3:00) Corey sees reason to keep door open for a 5-1 end to the regular season(17:00) There's no guarantee for an elite head coach?(26:00) Is FSU feeling post 2024 stress in pivotal stretches of games?(40:00) Aslan's formula for coaches(50:00) Corey holding onto 8-4 as a fairly high probabilityMusic: Militarie Gun - God Owes Me Moneyvitaminenergy.com | PROMO: warchantbogo | buy one, get one free!In Crawfordville, your Home Convenience Store is ACE Home Center & NAPA Auto Parts located at 2709 Crawfordville HwyUpgrade your wallet today! Get 10% Off @Ridge with code WAKEUP at https://www.Ridge.com/WAKEUP #Ridgepod Download the  Underdog app today and sign up with promo code WARCHANT to score fifty dollars in Bonus Funds when you play your first five dollars.Must be 18+ (19+ in Alabama & Nebraska; 19+ in Colorado for some games; 21+ in Arizona, Massachusetts & Virginia) and present in a state where Underdog Fantasy operates. Terms apply. See assets.underdogfantasy.com/web/PlayandGetTerms_DFS_.html for details. Offer not valid in Maryland, Michigan, New Jersey, New York, Ohio, and Pennsylvania. Concerned with your play? Call 1-800-GAMBLER or visit www.ncpgambling.org. In New York, call the 24/7 HOPEline at 1-877-8-HOPENY or Text HOPENY (46736)  Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

(3:00) Corey sees reason to keep door open for a 5-1 end to the regular season(17:00) There's no guarantee for an elite head coach?(26:00) Is FSU feeling post 2024 stress in pivotal stretches of games?(40:00) Aslan's formula for coaches(50:00) Corey holding onto 8-4 as a fairly high probabilityMusic: Militarie Gun - God Owes Me Moneyvitaminenergy.com | PROMO: warchantbogo | buy one, get one free!In Crawfordville, your Home Convenience Store is ACE Home Center & NAPA Auto Parts located at 2709 Crawfordville HwyUpgrade your wallet today! Get 10% Off @Ridge with code WAKEUP at https://www.Ridge.com/WAKEUP #Ridgepod Download the  Underdog app today and sign up with promo code WARCHANT to score fifty dollars in Bonus Funds when you play your first five dollars.Must be 18+ (19+ in Alabama & Nebraska; 19+ in Colorado for some games; 21+ in Arizona, Massachusetts & Virginia) and present in a state where Underdog Fantasy operates. Terms apply. See assets.underdogfantasy.com/web/PlayandGetTerms_DFS_.html for details. Offer not valid in Maryland, Michigan, New Jersey, New York, Ohio, and Pennsylvania. Concerned with your play? Call 1-800-GAMBLER or visit www.ncpgambling.org. In New York, call the 24/7 HOPEline at 1-877-8-HOPENY or Text HOPENY (46736)  Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Send us a Positive Review!Series Title: Rungs and Revelations: Ascending the Spiritual Ladder [Part II of II]Why is spiritual growth so incredibly hard and confusing? Why do some people stay put in the same world view forever? Why do some people seem to grow quickly and seem to be magnets inviting others to grow? Why do some people feel torn between emerging beliefs and paralyzing fear that the old beliefs might actually be right? And why do some people seem to trade in their old perspectives for new ones but seem to hold onto the same rigidity and judgment? If you want a map that can explain all of the messiness of the human growth journey…this episode is a good one for you! Ken Wilber's book "A Brief History of Everything"Timestamps:00:00 Introduction and Episode Overview00:13 The Ladder Metaphor for Growth01:02 Understanding Levels of Consciousness01:57 The Climber and the View02:50 Hierarchy in Growth and Transformation06:01 Pathology of Fixation at Lower Rungs16:09 Transcendence Failure and Its Challenges20:37 The Garden Narrative and Overcoming Fear21:38 Deep Neural Wiring and Higher Consciousness22:42 Struggles with Relationships and Transcendence24:46 Internal Personal Transformation29:51 The Concept of True Self33:10 Transcendence and Inclusion Challenges37:31 The Importance of Inclusion in Spiritual Growth47:47 Conclusion and Next StepsSupport the show Listen, Share, Rate & Review EPISODES Friday Episodes Annual Access $89 Friday Episodes Monthly Access $10 Valerie's Support & Processing Groups Gift a Scholarship Download Free Resources Visit our Website

Mareko has beef.Thanks again to Evenheat, Damasteel, Brodbeck Ironworks, Texas Farrier Supply, Indasa, Tormek, and Maritime Knife Supply and Tormek for the support.Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/knife-talk7733/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

This week on The Business of Open Source, I spoke with Rob Taylor, CTO/CSO and founder of ChipFlow. Although ChipFlow is unambiguously a software company, it creates software that facilitate the creation of semiconductors, so it straddles the software and hardware worlds.Some of the things we talked about include: The state of open source in the semiconductor space, and why that matters. A large part of it is the high cost of proprietary software for chip design, and the fact that there are a lot of barriers to entry, both for the design software and to chip creation. Rob also talked about how an open source approach is the only way to bridge between research institutions and universities and the commercial world — too often, researchers would do brilliant work during a Ph.D. program and then it would be completely lost when they entered the commercial world. On the other hand, open source is little-known and mistrusted in the semiconductor space. Rob described it as a marketing liability, which is why it's downplayed on the company webpage. —> I come across this more often than is often recognized inside the open source bubble. It's one thing to build an open source company in the software infrastructure space, where open source has a positive reputation and is often seen as simply table stakes; it's quite another to build an open source company in a conservative industry where open source doesn't have a positive image. Perhaps the most interesting thing is that this means you have to have a reason other than marketing to build and maintain the open source project. Want to join others to talk about the challenges and opportunities in building open source companies? Join us at Open Source Founders Summit next spring in Paris. 

Travis Belsito is easily one of the best wakeskaters in the world right now, and has been for a while, but that doesn't come easy. One of the worst sacks of all time, as well as getting sober, has helped shaped Travis's outlook on wakeskating, and life, in a really inspiring way. If you follow Trav you know he has been doing a Tre flip everyday for the past 550+ days, and that in itself might be the best way to describe Travis. Growing up riding with Nick Taylor, getting in with Water Monsters, video parts, smashing a watermelon on the Rockstar bus, sobriety, GOAT, how to grow wakeskating, top 3 cables, X Games demo, best winch clips, and some solid guest questions. Hear all this and much more in Episode 98 of the Grab Matters Podcast!Follow Travis: https://www.instagram.com/travbelsito/Thank you to this shows sponsors! Liquid Force: https://www.liquidforce.com/ Slingshot: https://slingshotsports.com/Chapters:00:00 - 1:30 Intro1:45 Catching up3:00 Favorite flatwater trick7:00 First time wakeskating 10:00 Guest Question: Marcus Knox11:10 Nick Taylor16:00 Water Monsters 24:00 Favorite video parts25:30 Kickflips31:00 Worst sack ever41:30 Tre flip everyday 46:20 LF'n Wheel of Questions 51:20 Straddling generations as a rider/taking time off56:00 Sobriety1:03:15 Slingshot Silhouette Challenge 1:05:50 Guest Question: TJ Giesey1:09:00 Best potential wakeskate sponsor?1:12:00 Growing wakeskating 1:16:20 GOAT1:20:40 Setup1:25:20 Wakeskating X Games Demo1:31:50 Guest Question: Maxime Giry1:40:00 Best wakeskate cables in US1:43:00 Best winch clips1:53:00 Top 3 Wakeskate movies2:00:00 Style and flavor2:08:00 Keeping wakeskating fresh2:11:00 Next gen2:13:50 Last time you surfed?2:15:00 Thank you's Links: Human Rocket: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GRoEu0a3iWQ&list=RDGRoEu0a3iWQ&start_radio=1Fun Boots: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTElVejMz6wNick Harlos Boardslide: https://alliancewake.com/skate/behind-the-10-1-cover-the-whole-story/TJ Pod: https://www.grabmatters.com/episodes/episode-67Travis' YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@travisbelsitoDRY SPELL: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0O2Unm4XopgThank you for the guest questions!Marcus Knox: https://www.instagram.com/marcusknox/TJ Giesey: https://www.instagram.com/tjgiesey/Maxime Giry: https://www.instagram.com/maximegiry/Shoot us a text!Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/GrabMattersPodcastWebsite: https://www.grabmatters.com/YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@grabmatters/videosInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/grabmatters/TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@grabmatterspodcastFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/grabmatters

Neighbor's daughter seeks out widower next door, to help her with human sexuality lessons. By SilverFoxMullet - Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. I was folding the last of my laundry, there wasn't much with just myself left in the house. My son had got married and moved to British Columbia. My wife passed on 2 years ago. Just me now, enjoying a much-too-quiet life. Then the doorbell rang. I went to the door and opened it, only to find my neighbour's daughter Tess standing on his front porch. I'd watched her grow up next door. When my son had moved out ten years ago, my wife and I had occasionally babysat little Tess. It had been nice having kids around the house again. She'd grown up into an intelligent, pretty young girl. She'd also been devastated why Marie had died. "Oh, Hi, Tess. What can i do for you?" "Hi Mr Brock. I um, I need some help with some, uh, homework. I was hoping you'd be able to help me?" "OK, I don't know how much help I can really be, but I can try. High school was an awful long time ago for me! Come on in." Tess followed me into the living room and I asked her "Do you want a drink, I've got water, pop, juice, or milk." "Water's fine" she said. I poured two glasses and came back, handing her one as she sat there on my sofa. "So, how can I help? My knowledge of high school math is really out of date you know." She was fidgeting and blushing, as she sat there clutching her drink and a textbook. Finally she exhaled and said "Human sexuality" as she held up the book. I blinked at her, nonplussed. What are they teaching kids these days? The only response I could muster was "Um, what?" She set down her book, took a drink, then set her glass on the coffee table. "Mr. Brock…" "Call me Kenneth, please." "Kenneth. I, I want to learn about um, you know, sex. I, my friends, they're all starting to do stuff, to fool around, and I um, I want to learn too but I'm afraid." I sat there looking at her, unable to process what she was saying. She grew more agitated, and blushed even more. Tears welled up and slipped down her cheeks. If I have one weakness, it's a crying woman. I got up and moved to sit beside her and wrapped my arms around her. Tess sobbed and clutched at me, crying into my shoulder. After a few minutes she pulled back, and I let her go. "Will to teach me?" she asked. Oh fuck no, I thought. "That depends on what you want to learn." "I want to learn about sex. I want to learn everything, I want you to teach me." "Oh. How old are you now, Tess?" "I'm sixteen. I'm old enough to learn about this." Oh crap. This is bad. Really, really bad. "You may think you're old enough, but not for me, that's for sure. You're not even an adult in the eyes of the law. I'm sorry Tess, I can't help you with this." Tears started dripping again as she spoke. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you with this. It's just, like, all my friends, they're doing stuff, and I feel left out, I want to, but I'm scared. They all say sex is painful, or uncomfortable, or just, not great. Stuff I've read, and stuff I've watched on the internet, makes it sound like sex should be really good, really fun, but my friends say it's not. I want to learn the right way, so it's good for me." Wow. What the hell are her friends doing? Ah, right, teenage boys. Worse than useless. Maybe I can't do anything with her, but I can help. "Ok, I am not going to teach you, at least not any hands-on lessons, but I will offer you some advice." She straightened up a bit, and wiped her eyes. God she was so beautiful. Very girl-next-door wholesome. The last thing she deserved was some idiot teenage boy humping at her for 30 seconds and then running off to brag about his prowess to his idiot friends. "My first piece of advice is to masturbate." She looked confused now. "You want me to what?" "Masturbate, play with yourself. Look, how will you ever be able to tell your lover what you want and how you want it unless you know yourself? Get comfortable with yourself, learn how to please yourself, learn what makes your orgasms great." She was staring wide eyed at me now, as my words started to sink in. "How do I do that?" she asked. "Look up female masturbation videos. Watch and learn, and practice." "Okay" she said, "What else?" "Buy a toy. Get a marital aid, a dildo, so you can practice feeling what intercourse is like. You can use other things, but it's better and safer to use the right tools for the job. Look up a sex shop or stag shop. I'll even go shopping for you if you want." "Oh, yes, would you, please?" "Certainly. Now, once you are comfortable with your own sexuality, and you find someone you want to be with, make sure you tell them what you like. Don't be afraid to be demanding about what they're doing. They either do it right or you kick them out of bed." She giggled at this, which I thought was incredibly cute. "Don't discount female lovers either. They like sex exactly the way you do. Once you get good at masturbation you'll be able to please another girl quite well." "I don't think I want to do that, I like boys." she said. "You mean 'men' not 'boys'. That's exactly why your friends are having lousy sex. They're playing with boys." She nodded, so I continued. "Guys like oral sex too. In fact, if you're good at blowjobs you won't have to put up with their inept antics in bed. That's another use for the dildo, to practice oral sex. And if a guy starts to hump your face, if he starts grabbing you and pushing, bite him. You don't have to take that if you don't want it. If it's something you enjoy, then let him play, but otherwise he is there to please you, not the other way around." Tess was smiling now, tears all but forgotten. She hugged me, and said "Thank you. I will follow your advice Mr, uh, Kenneth." I picked up her book, flipped through it quickly, and found the section on female anatomy. I showed her the diagram and said "Learn what all your parts are, what they're for, and how they work. This is a good place to start. I'll find you a toy tomorrow and you can stop by to pick it up on Tuesday, OK?" She nodded, saying "Thank you", and repeated herself after hugging me again. Once she'd left I locked the door and went upstairs with laundry basket. I dropped the basket on the bed and went into my bathroom. I had such a wicked hard-on, I just had to get some relief. The very idea that the literal girl next door wanted me to teach her about sex had me hard as steel. She might be jailbait but I could still follow my own advice, and masturbate. Of course I didn't last long at all, but I wasn't trying to last. I went shopping for Tess on Monday, picking out a nice realistic looking dildo and a bottle of personal lubricant. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I chose one that was almost exactly my size. The girl at the cash looked kind of funny at me, so I smiled and said "Gift for a friend Tess knocked on my door the next afternoon when she got home from school. We exchanged greetings and I handed her the plain brown paper bag. She wanted to pay me for it but I told her it was a gift. l got a hug in return and she practically scampered next door. I silently wished her luck. ." It's great to see Tess feeling more confident about her sexuality. I'm still amazed that I'm the one she turned to for help. The thought of this girl using her new toy to explore herself gave me fodder for my own playtime for the next week. She may only be sixteen, but she's unbelievably sexy. Afterwards I only saw her in passing, as usual, and we'd wave and say 'Hi'. She looked happy and cheerful, and I assumed her self-directed lessons were going well, as she hadn't returned for any more advice. Part of me assumed she'd developed a romantic relationship and was handling things just fine. Life went on, I kept busy at work, and did yard maintenance, laundry, and all the usual stuff around the house. I wasn't into playing sports, so I went to the gym a few days a week to keep in shape. My woodworking hobby morphed from a strictly power tool shop to using a lot more hand tools. It was slower paced but I found it a lot more rewarding. Thoughts of Tess faded away. I had my 'internet videos & pics' to keep me occupied when I needed it. I had no interest in pursuing a new love this late in life, so i wasn't dating or putting myself out there. That was two years ago. Today I was in the basement shop, planing a cherry table top. It was good physical labour, and I was sweating a bit as I worked. I heard the doorbell, so I set the plane aside and brushed the shavings off my pants. The bell rang again as I hurried up the stairs, yelling "Coming!" I pulled the door open to find Tess standing there smiling at me. "Oh, Hi there, Tess. I haven't seen you around for a while. How've you been?" "Hi Kenneth! I just wanted to stop by for a visit, if that's OK?" "Uh, sure, come on in, can I get you a drink or something?" "Water would be fine, thanks." I poured two glasses and brought them to the living room. We sipped and she set her glass down. "So what brings you by today?" I asked. "Same as last time." she said with a demure smile. Last time? Shit, last time she wanted me to 'teach' her about sex. I choked on my drink. "Uh, Last time?" I said faintly. "I'm here for my next lesson. I turned 18 a month ago," She beamed. "And now I want you to finish teaching me about sex." Holy fucking mother of god. She was back, and she was more beautiful than ever. She'd matured more since she was 16, with such a pretty face and solid, slim figure. I could see how nice that figure was, because she wasn't hiding it. The bright yellow halter style dress she was wearing had a deep vee displaying her lovely cleavage, no back, and came to mid-thigh on her sleek legs. I didn't realize that I hadn't responded to her. "Well? Will you? Please?" she asked. "I've waited two years you know. And I followed all your advice too. I'm ready for the next lesson." "But why me, you're stunningly beautiful, you could have any guy you wanted." "I know. And I want you." She said with resolve. She then kicked off her sandals and stood up. Reaching behind her neck, she undid the tie holding up the top of her dress. It came undone and the dress slithered to the floor, pooling around her feet. All she had on now was a pair of lacy yellow panties God she was perfect. Chestnut hair, falling about her shoulders. High, firm, fully tanned breasts with neat brown areolas and stiff looking nipples; her slender waist flared into nicely curved hips, which continued in a graceful curve down her thighs. Tess stepped towards me, and held out her hand. I reached out and took it. God help me, this was so wrong, but I was literally unable to resist her. She pulled gently and I rose to my feet, stunned by her presence. A tug on my hand was all she had to provide to get me in motion, and I followed her from the living room. She led me to the top of the stairs, hypnotizing me with the sway of her ass; then stopped and asked in a sultry voice "Which way is the bedroom?" "This way" I said, pointing to the right. I continued to follow her, into my room, where she stopped, turned, and stood with her arm wrapped around the tall bedpost at the foot of my queen bed. "Tess…" I croaked in a strained voice. "This is what I wanted back then, when I came to you two years ago. It's still what I want now. You said I was too young. I'm an adult now, and I want this, I want you." "Oh god, Tess. I want to say no, I should say no, I have to say no, but I can't. You're so perfect, so beautiful, so delightful, and I can't tell you no." She smiled, and oh man, she was so stunningly beautiful it made me weak at the knees. Like a fucking goddess. And like a goddess, no mere mortal like me could refuse her. "Make love to me, Kenneth." She said, in a low sultry voice. I peeled off my polo shirt and tossed it aside. The rest of my clothing quickly followed, and I stood before her as aroused as I had ever been in my life. Her smile broadened and she laughed lightly, saying "Oh you're perfect! You're just like that wonderful dildo that you gave me to practice on!" I remembered the dildo I bought her years ago, and recalled that that was exactly what I'd picked out for her. I just smiled back at her and gave a little shrug. She laughed again and beckoned me forward. The goddess pulls the strings and the puppet moves to her will. Where did she get such sexual confidence and assertiveness? I took her hand and walked over to the side of the bed, where I sat and guided her onto my lap, and kissed her. She sighed into the kiss, and melted against me. Her skin was so soft, her warm, fragrant body so supple and firm at the same time. We kissed for a while, and I moved my attentions from her lips to her jawline, then to her earlobes, and finally her neck. Tess was cooing and sighing in my arms, her firm breasts and taught nipples pressed to me. I kissed her again, harder, and brought my tongue into it. Hers came back at me to play, and we tasted each other for a while more. When she started to writhe in a subtle manner I knew she was truly aroused, so I moved her over to lie back on the bed. Awestruck, I gazed at her, reddish brown hair fanning out on the bed, firm breasts sitting high on her chest, defying gravity and anatomy alike. I swooped down upon her breasts, stroking, kissing, licking, and fondling her magnificence. Those coos and sighs continued, and she started adding words to her breathless sounds. "Don't touch my nipples yet" she whispered, as she directed me to the valley between her tits. I moved to the undersides of them, and thence to her areolas, as I progressed along my slow, wonderful tour. Finally, with a moan and a push, she led me to the end of this part of our journey. Set in goose-bumped areolas, her swollen, highly sensitive nipples were my last target. I began with gentle licks, then small kisses, on one, then the other, and back. Then it was nibbles, fingers rolling them, sucking them, pressing them, and manipulating her nipples as many ways as I could. She began to writhe beneath me, her words tapering off into moans and gasps. No longer directing me, I played, I explored, I teased and tantalized her. A shudder, followed by a long sighing gasp was the signal she was done with this, and she gently pushed me away. "Oh, Kenneth, that was wonderful! Thank you. Now lay back, I want to explore you." I did as she bid, and Tess started touching, stroking, fondling, and kissing her way from my ears to my toes. She didn't spend too long in any one place, and she avoided my cock completely. Little questions, do I like this, or that, and little comments about what she found or liked, interspersed her explorations. She found some ticklish places, and she also found some really arousing places too. Places my wife had never found, places I never suspected I had. By now, there was a puddle of pre-cum on my abdomen, and she shifted her position to inspect me more closely. She lifted my cock and licked the most recent droplet from it. Then she dipped her head down and lapped up that puddle. My stomach muscles flexed and clenched as she tickled me with her agile tongue. She giggled at my 'gut reaction' as she called it. Then the most wondrous sensation hit my rigid cock. Her mouth closed over me, and that agile tongue found a new place to play. My late wife hadn't been much for blowjobs, so this was a rare treat indeed for me. Last time would have been probably 25 years ago. And it didn't stop with her tongue, amazing as it was. My shaft began to disappear into her mouth bit by bit, as she bobbed up and down ever so slowly. I stared stunned and slack-jawed in amazement as Tess worked my cock into her throat. I kept my hands to myself, clutching the duvet, and desperately willed myself not to cum. Alas, this last was in vain, because this goddess continued to pull strings on her mortal puppet. She wanted me to cum, so cum I would, whether I wanted to or not. I groaned and muttered "I'm gonna cum" through gritted teeth. She heeded my warning by humming and pulling back until just my head was in her warm wet mouth. She redoubled her efforts with her tongue, swirling around and around my throbbing manhood. With a whimper I came, shaking and pulsing over and over into her eager mouth. She swallowed my load and kept licking and sucking until I wilted in her mouth. "How was that?" she asked. "Oh god, Tess, that was the best I ever had." She giggled again. "I'm just glad you picked a toy the right size. Practice makes perfect. Although my toy doesn't cum like you do, that was a bit of a surprise. It doesn't taste bad at all, but the texture is weird." As I listened to her words, she made me wonder, and I had to ask. "Was that your first real blowjob?" "Uh huh. First ever. It was good?" "Like I said, best ever. I can't believe that was your first time doing this!" "First time for real, it was always just my toy before now." "Wow." "Now it's your turn to please me" she said, rolling onto her back and tugging my arm. Those strings again, pulling me wither she desired, and this time it was her most private place. I used my hands and forearms, my lips and tongue, to stroke and touch her all over. It was my turn to find her interesting places, her ticklish spots, and make her squirm in anticipation. I touched her face and neck, kissing and stroking, and proceeded to her shoulders and arms. Another chance to play with her lovely breasts was not to be denied either, and I did indeed have her squirming now. I worked my way down her body, making sure to test every place I could for sexual suitability. She directed me to a few places that she liked, and I found some spots she didn't yet know about. She began to get more vocal, calling my name occasionally, giving hints and feedback and directions, interwoven with a progressively louder and more varied series of moans and gasps. I stopped, and rose to preview what I was about to acquire. I softly brushed my fingers all around her panties, and her movements became more erratic, changing from a slow undulation to twitching and shuddering. Slowly, I peeled the bright yellow lace from her hips. I could scent her now, a wonderful mix of the robust and the delicate at the same time. She had a beautiful reddish-brown bush, lush and soft, that led to her sex. I nuzzled her lovely triangle of fur, all the while drawing in her heady aroma. I discarded her panties now, and her legs fell open to my gaze. Beautiful. Exquisite, even. Her lightly furred vulva surrounded a pair of dark-edged lips, glistening with the source of that scent I was enjoying. I pushed her legs farther apart and looked up at her. She smiled back at me and said "Teach me". Fuck. A lick, along her slit, hammered my senses of taste and smell, filling me with her. She was sour and sweet and floral and meaty, with a little saltiness from her sweat. I moaned into her as I plowed her with my tongue again, deeper, harder. More contact, more flavour, more joy! I pulled back and looked for her clit. That little peak in her folds held a secret I wanted to discover. I drove my tongue into her again and licked all the way up to try and find her clitoris. It was there, small, but firm, still buried in those folds, I could feel it. She could too, based on how she squeaked and jumped when I hit the right spot. Her breathing was getting faster, and her thighs were flexing, so I assumed she was very close. Did I want, or even need, to tease her? I needed to know what she wanted, so I asked. "Do you want to cum now, or make it last a while?" "In a little while, but not too long" she said as she brought her hands down to run fingers through my hair. Perfect. I wondered if her other lovers had asked the right questions, or had she had to guide them? No matter, I have the here and now to deal with. I pulled her labia apart gently with my fingers and played my tongue over the wet pink flesh revealed within. Her hips gyrated against me, so I continued to play at this. When my nose bumped her clit, she jumped and squeaked again. I worked a fingertip into her opening, swirling it around to maximize the stimulation, while at the same time I began to gently lick and kiss her clitoral hood. A shuddering moan indicated I was on the right track, With feather-light touches around her clit, and my finger slowly working deeper into her passage, I increased her stimulation. Those gyrations increased, and my licks to her clit became less subtle, more direct. Tess whimpered as I rolled my finger inside her, and sought her G-spot. When she cried out suddenly, with an accompanying shudder and thrust of her hips, I knew I'd found the right spot. I attacked her clit with more gusto, lapping and flicking at her, as my finger continued it's internal foray. She came, she came with abandon. Squealing and thrashing and calling my name, she practically bounced on the bed. I had to hold her hips firmly with my arms and my free hand just to stay connected to the vital spots and continue to stimulate her. She seemed to cum at least twice, possibly thrice, before the grip on my air went from pulling to pushing. I relented, and rose to look down at her, her face and chest flushed, sweat beading her forehead, and the most beautiful expression on her face. She looked like the goddess she was. "Oh god Kenneth, that was the most amazing orgasm I've ever had! What have you done to me?" I slid up to lie beside her, cuddling together while she regained her breath and her senses. "That was wonderful" I said. "I enjoyed you so much, and you seemed to enjoy it too." "The best ever" she said, paraphrasing my earlier comment on her own oral efforts. "Your other lovers didn't perform so well, then?" "There are no others. just me and my toy. I've waited and practiced and dreamed of this day." Her hand slipped between us to fondle my hardness, which was back from it's slumber. "No one? But I though you wanted to learn…" "I wanted you. I told you so. I wanted to learn, and I wanted you to teach me. All you could give me was advice and my toy, so I made the best of what I had. Can we start our next lesson?" "Tess? You're still a virgin? Are you sure about this?" She laughed, saying "If you're wondering about my hymen, that toy took it the very first day I got it. I went straight home and tried it. Slowly, carefully, and immediately. And every day since, I've practiced and practiced, hoping that when I was ready, you'd accept me. That you'd teach me the rest." "You are so beautiful, so amazing, I don't know how or why I got so lucky, but you're here. And I will not disappoint you." I sat up next to her, and swept my gaze and my hands along her nubile young body. "Did you bring any condoms?" I asked. "I'm on the pill, and you are my first lover, do we need one?" "I haven't been with anyone in over 5 years, and before that I had a vasectomy. So I am clean and sterile." "Make love to me, Kenneth." "For your first time, I want you on top." She laughed and we switched places on the bed. Straddling my hips, she leaned in to kiss me fervently, passionately, until we were starving for oxygen. I could feel her wet heat against my hardness, as she slowly shifted her weight on me. Finally breaking our kiss, she sat upright, raised herself aloft, and reached for me. I felt her hand moving my cock around, as she tried to position me just so. "I never tried this way with my toy. It doesn't lend itself to this very well. I'm usually on my back or on my hands and knees." Then she pressed herself down onto me, taking it slowly, gently. She leaned forward to plant her hands on my chest. "Oh god, this is so good, sooo goooood" she groaned. Bottoming out, she sat staring at me, gently running fingers through the graying hair on my chest. "Wow. I thought when I saw you, that it would feel just like my toy. But it doesn't, not at all. This is so much better!" With that, she started to play. She bounced up and down for a while, breasts wobbling, hair swirling, suddenly yelping and shuddering on me as she came. Collapsing on me, breathing hard for a minute or two, whilst her pussy throbbed and rippled on me. Smiling that amazing smile of hers, she pushed herself back up, and started grinding on me in little circular motions. This apparently worked even better, as she kept it up for about 5 minutes before squealing through a couple of orgasms. Once again, she slumped down onto my chest, and I could feel her heart beating madly in hers. When her pussy relaxed again, and she stirred, she sat up and said "That was better than anything I've ever felt. Even better than your wonderful tongue. Can we trade places now?" "As you wish" I said. "Oh Westley!" she replied with laugh. "Farm boy, make love to me now!" she demanded. With a chuckle, I rolled her over and we kissed again. I reached down to guide myself into her beautiful warmth, and god she was tight. I knew I wouldn't last long like this, and I told her so. "I've already had the best time of my life, please just enjoy me, the way I enjoyed you." she said. I kissed her again as i began to slowly push my aching cock in and out of her. We could hear the wet sloppy sounds of her pussy as I fucked her. I pushed myself up on my elbows and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile was amazing, and she felt so alive beneath me! I rocked my hips as my thrusting increased in force and speed, which stimulated her clit. Her smile changed to laughter as she approached orgasm, crying out to me "Oh god yes! Yes!" I was getting closer myself, and then she looked deep into my eyes, saying "I love you". That triggered me, and I humped madly at her, pounding myself deep into her, over and over, until I spasmed in bliss. I felt and heard her answering orgasm as we tumbled from our peaks to lay panting against each other, sharing breath, sharing heartbeats, sharing souls. "Oh god, Tess, I love you too." This, torn from me, how and why could this be happening? She kissed me again. "I hoped, I prayed, I wished, I waited so long for this. Thank you." Not wanting to crush her, I lifted off her, and slowly pulled my shrinking cock from her welcoming heat. "Yipe! Hey, I thought you were fixed!" she exclaimed as my issue came pouring out of her. Too late, the duvet cover needs washing now for sure. "A vasectomy doesn't change how much comes out, just what's in it, or not in it, so to speak. And you knew from that blowjob how much I cum." "My toy never made this much of a mess, that's for sure." she said with a laugh. "Let's take a shower, and then we can have something to eat, and we can talk, OK?" She looked a trifle worried about the 'talking' part, but the shower was definitely of interest to her! We spent a long time in the hot spray, exploring, touching and teasing each other. And we did incidentally get clean. We dried each other off, and I got a spare bathrobe for her. I made some sandwiches, and poured a couple of glasses of lemonade. We ate, and I asked her about school. She had just graduated high school with top honours, and was intending to go to Queens in Kingston, come September. Now we has to discuss 'Us'. "Tess, you're 18, you have your whole life ahead of you. I'm 58, due to retire in 2 years. I'm afraid that if we pursue any kind of relationship it will end badly, and most badly for you." Once again she surprised me by simply laughing at me. "Silly man! You've probably got another good twenty years in you. Do you want to waste it mowing your lawn and doing your laundry, or do you want to live?" I blinked at her in surprise, and she continued, "Do you think I would deny myself my true love simply because it may be cut short? Are you tied to this place? Could you follow me to Kingston?" My mind spun, I felt totally disoriented for a moment, and I looked into those crystal grey eyes. And I was lost. Strings, pulling me out of the quiet, common existence I was in. Strings, hauling me out of a rut that I hadn't known I had fallen into. Strings, pulling on my heart, making me love again. "Yes" I managed to choke out. She smiled that awesome, devastating smile of hers, and said "Kenneth Brock, will you marry me?" This had started with her tears two years ago and it was going to end with mine today. "Yes" By SilverFoxMullet for Literotica.

Most of us can agree: we are living through a cultural crisis. It doesn't come from a single source—it isn't just algorithms, aesthetics, politics, or the economy. It's the convergence of all these forces, and beneath them, the erosion of institutions that once anchored collective life. Over the past decade, digital platforms, like social media, promised to be a new kind of connective tissue—a democratizing force to replace more slow-moving institutions. But while platforms have transformed our economies and society, they've also hollowed out the very structures that once gave us shared ground. Mike Pepi has long been a sharp voice in this particular debate. Straddling both the tech industry and the worlds of art criticism and cultural theory, he brings a rare perspective. His writing, which has appeared in Frieze, e-flux, Artforum, and The Brooklyn Rail, also takes the form of a compelling new book called Against Platforms: Surviving Digital Utopia that was published earlier this year. In it, Pepi dismantles some of Silicon Valley's most enduring myths, and it's a bracing argument about what we have lost and what's at stake as we hand over so much power, diminishing along the way some of our core institutions. But he also looks at how we might begin to rebuild them. For the art world in particular, the implications of Pepi's ideas are profound.

Show Highlights: Field to Market's unique positioning in the ag value chain. [04:51] Why equal voices matter in a cross-sector coalition. [06:26] What are Field to Market's core functions and tools? [07:57] The value of real ag sector experience for coalition leadership. [10:42] Sustainability insights by agribusinesses from Field to Market's Annual Meeting. [15:00] M&A lessons from harnessing diversity in coalitions. [27:41] The role of collaborative data in the Triscuits supply chain. [31:24] How U.S. Cotton Trust Protocol assesses sustainability. [36:26] Discover what's next for Field to Market—and participate. [40:45] To learn more about Field to Market, go to https://fieldtomarket.org/. To check out Field to Market's membership, visit https://fieldtomarket.org/our-members/ To learn how Field to Market defines sustainability, visit https://fieldtomarket.org/defining-sustainability/ To join the Sustainable Agriculture Summit, visit https://fieldtomarket.org/contact-us/events/sustag-summit/. Find Carrie on LinkedIn at https://www.linkedin.com/in/carrievollmersanders/. If you are interested in connecting with Joe, go to LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/joemosher/, or schedule a call at www.moshercg.com.  

It's the Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2025 series Elaine chats with theatre maker, writer and performer Emma Frankland about her new show No Apologies Was Kurt Cobain trans? Was Kurt Cobain a trans woman? What if? No Apologies Summerhall Now – 24th AUG (21st and 23rd with band @17:30) Time: 20:45 No Apologies Two-time Fringe First Award-winning and Total Theatre Award nominated writer and performer Emma Frankland brings her raucous and powerful new show No Apologies to Summerhall for its Edinburgh Fringe Festival debut. Directed by critically acclaimed performance artist and Total Theatre Award nominated theatre maker, Harry Clayton-Wright, No Apologies is a theatrical exploration into the possibility of what the world would look like if Kurt Cobain was trans. Delving deep into internet discourse and classical mythology, No Apologies radically mis-remembers Nirvana's iconic 1993 MTV Unplugged concert. Straddling the knife edge of funny and gut-punching, this personal and multi-layered piece, fights back against the pressure to mould ourselves into images that are acceptable to society and the danger that lies when we are not able to live as our full, vibrant selves. While performed throughout most of the Fringe as a sixty minute solo show, two dates at the end of the festival on 21st and 23rd August will integrate a five-piece tribute band for two special live gig performances in Summerhall's prestigious Dissection Room space. TICKET LINK HERE OUR WEBSITE - www.persistentandnasty.co.uk Persistent and Nasty join the CEC community to create a safe space & build a community for those who are marginalised in any way in the arts. Link for our Zoom meeting with Creative Entrepreneurs Club https://creativeentrepreneursclub.co.uk/ MAIL BAG – you can write and ask us industry related questions or general questions or maybe you have a hot take you want to chare, some tea you want to spill or a topic you want discussed on the podcast. To be included in the Mail Bag podcast email persistentandnansty@gmail.com with subject line MAIL BAG or slide into the DM's. IPA GUIDES: HIPA GUIDES Equity Toolkit: Link Stellar Quines: Link Persistent Pal & Nasty Hero - Pals and Hero Membership Email – persistentandnasty@gmail.com Instagram - @persistentandnasty Twitter - @PersistentNasty Coffee Morning Eventbrite - Coffee Morning Tickets LINKTREE - LINKTR.EE Resources Samaritans - Rape Crisis Scotland - Rape Crisis UK ArtsMinds - BAPAM Freelancers Make Theatre Work Stonewall UK - Trevor Project - Mermaids UK Switchboard LGBT+ - GATE PLANNED PARENTHOOD DONATE - DONATE ABORTION SUPPORT NETWORK UK - ASN.COM- DONATE

Straddling timelines isn't all fun and games. The good news is, you can acknowledge the past and its impact without being tethered to it. Mouthy bartender turned mouthy millionaire in her first year, Nicole Cherie Hesse has lots of unpopular unicorn opinions to share…Anything but conventional, Nicole paved a path to seven figures using existing skills from her colorful life as a kick-ass bartender. By repositioning what she already knew into the online coaching industry, she catapulted to the 1% overnight.This podcast details the adventures she's had along the way and is sprinkled with helpful AF unicorn hacks to help you to follow in her unicorn hoof prints.Whether you are a bartender who wants to unlock another revenue stream or an experienced entrepreneur looking to scale to six figure months, Nicole will f*ck you up in all of the best ways. Take off your pants and get your ass to the podcast this and every week to level up and crush your unicorn goals.  Want to get a glimpse into Nicole's Past Self? Join the So That What Movement here

We have a long history in America of institutions and public systems that do not serve all members of the public equally. As Erin Kilmer-Neel shares on this episode of Power Station, the financial services industry, banks in particular, have routinely failed to approve loan applications for small businesses and mortgages from borrowers of color on par with their white counterparts. Perceptions of unworthiness is rooted in a well-documented history of racism in public and corporate policymaking. As executive director of the Beneficial State Foundation, the nonprofit that owns and partners with Beneficial State Bank, an equity-driven enterprise, Erin is powering a movement to unlearn the biases that undergird perceptions of risk and reimagine policies and practices that meet the capital needs of borrowers of color. Take Underwriting for Justice, an initiative that is upending racially discriminatory lending norms. It is engaging banks in signing on to methodologies that lead to systemic yeses. Erin is a bright light in the ongoing campaign to bridge the social equity and banking worlds. She credits the vision of Beneficial Bank co-founders Tom Steyer and Kat Taylor in creating an institution that builds power within, instead of extracting from, the communities it serves.

Send us a textA look back at the popular Starting Lineup sports figures. Behind the scenes of Behind the Music. Some of the most controversial songs ever written.Episode 203 of the podcast unloads a tidal wave of nostalgia for you to enjoy, no matter where you are.We start off with a deep dive into the world of Starting Lineup sports figures. Straddling the line between toys and collectibles, these figures were desired by 80s and 90s boys, from preteens to much older collectors. What made them so popular? VH1 Behind the Music was a compelling and, at times, depressing television show. It delved into the lives of musical acts, showing them as humans and not just celebrities. We will examine the show in general, some of its most well-known episodes, and also explore why the show resonated with so many for so long.Controversy is on the menu in this week's Top 5. We will look at some of the most controversial songs ever written. This spans genres and decades. These songs caused discussions, arguments, and boycotts. We will try to give the reasons behind the controversy. There is a brand new This Week In History and Time Capsule looking back at the infamous Roswell, New Mexico UFO incident.Become a supporter on Patreon! $5/mo. gets you access to bonus podcast episodes and more!Helpful Links from this EpisodePurchase My New Book Cape Cod Beyond the Beach!In My Footsteps: A Cape Cod Travel Guide(2nd Edition)Hooked By Kiwi - Etsy.comDJ Williams MusicKeeKee's Cape Cod KitchenChristopher Setterlund.comCape Cod Living - Zazzle StoreSubscribe on YouTube!Initial Impressions 2.0 BlogWebcam Weekly Wrapup PodcastCJSetterlundPhotos on EtsyListen to Episode 202 hereSupport the show

Producer and former New World Pictures Senior Vice President of Production Jeff Schechtman joins us to talk about his career at New World, starting with 1978's PIRANHA and into the post-Roger Corman era where he also producer 1984's BODY ROCK! From starting out as an Assistant to the Producers on projects like TRUCK TURNER, BLACK BELT JONES, and ENTER THE DRAGON for Fred Weintraub's company to getting his own projects (literally) off the ground, Jeff has a variety of stories from his time in the industry! Straddling between tow eras of New World's history, Jeff eventually went on to New Line and helped produce 1993's KILLING ZOE! We discuss it all here! We also discuss a wide variety of New World titles from his time as a New World executive, so get ready for a wide-ranging discussion about New World's history! Now a podcaster himself, Jeff has 3 podcasts you can check out: Talk Cocktail,  California Sun, and Who What Why. Check out his work by clicking on the name of each podcast! For more about the New World Pictures Podcast, including previous episodes, t-shirts, mugs, sweatshirts, other merch and more, head here: https://newworldpicturespodcast.com/ For all the shows in Someone's Favorite Productions Podcast Network, head here:  https://www.someonesfavoriteproductions.com/

What happens when you confront your darkest moments and choose to heal, instead of staying stuck in the pain?In this raw and inspiring episode of The Big Silence, Karena Dawn is joined by Dr. Samantha Harte, author of Breaking the Circuit. She's a physical therapist, author, and sobriety advocate. Harte opens up about rebuilding her life after addiction and navigating a traumatic childhood. Through it all, she discovered the healing power of vulnerability and forgiveness, ultimately learning to rewire her brain and change her story.Her picture-perfect high school existence masked unbearable pain, leading to a soul-shaking drug overdose. While navigating the challenges of sobriety in the midst of a crumbling marriage and painful loss, Samantha found herself at rock bottom. What came next was a radical reworking of her inner life and the birth of a new identity — one grounded in compassionate curiosity, revolutionary responsibility, and finally, self-forgiveness.This conversation is a masterclass in what it means to confront your truths, rewire your mind, and write a new story — no matter how broken the past may seem.How Do We Take Pain and Turn It Into Something Positive, Even Transformative?Dr. Harte explains why healing begins with self-forgiveness — and how shame, silence, and perfectionism keep us stuck in destructive loops. Learning to forgive, starting with yourself, is key to breaking free from toxic cycles.(00:058) When Everything Looks Fine — But You're Falling Apart InsideThe internal divide between outward success and private suffering: “Straddling myself between these two worlds, these two identities, like everything is fine and nothing is ok.”A very ill-timed overdose that became a wake-up callThe unbearable weight of feeling stuck with yourself when your inner voice becomes your fiercest critic(00:10:04) Five Years Sober, Still Miserable: The Trap of White-Knuckling RecoveryPerfectionism can doom sobriety: “It works until it doesn't. Perfectionism collapses in matters of the heart.” Her marriage collapses under the weight of unspoken resentment, infidelity, and untreated trauma.“All of those mechanisms that kept me safe as a girl were killing me as an adult.”(00:18:30) Spiritual Rock Bottom: The Breakthrough Moment That Changed EverythingHow addiction takes hold, even when you're convinced you have it under controlKnowing when you've hit "spiritual rock bottom" and turning it into a catalyst for changeTurning your deepest fears and pain into life-altering breakthroughs(00:22:40) Compassionate Curiosity: The Self-Talk That Can Save Your LifeIntercepting your inner critic with the triangle of compassionate curiosity and radical responsibility: “Why did I just do that?” and “What am I gonna do about it now?” The parenting advice we all need: how apology clears shame and models emotional intelligence for your kids.(00:31:30) Betrayal, Infidelity, and the Truth That Finally Came OutThe loss of her sister and her declaration to write a bookBecoming the “girl who 12-stepped the world.” Applying AA's 12-step program to other aspects of life“The fear of any type of judgment absolutely collapsed.” Rising to the level of our goals and creating habits (00:31:30) Healing and Forgiveness: Can You Ever Forgive the Unforgivable?The struggle and importance of forgiving others (and yourself) in the healing processWhy forgiving betrayal doesn't mean condoning hurtful actionsThe spiritual and emotional liberation that comes with true forgiveness(00:53:00) Rewiring the Mind:...

Electra Glide In Blue review starts at 50:45 Movie Recap: Lazerus (2025) E.T. The Extraterrestrial (1982) Smile 2 (2024) Big Bully (1996) Mickey 17 (2025) Depraved by Bryan Smith (Novel) Support: patereon.com/notforeveryone Drink more coffee: https://www.foxnsons.com/  PROMOCODE: NFE

Robert Theiss is an internationally recognized artist, intuitive guide and the author of Living Inside your Passion, Straddling your Freedom, Awakening to your God Self and iSpirit - A New Story. His ability to function as a mentor has made him a highly valued resource to clients worldwide.Robert started his first business, Falcon Designs in 1979 as a custom furnituremaker. His work was featured in Fine Homebuilding, Woodwork Magazine, Fine Furniture Design Book #5, Old House Interiors, American Bungalow, Better Homes and Garden and in the Bellevue Art Museum.In 1989, Robert became interested in alternative healing modalities and in 1993, was initiated as a Reiki master. It was during this time that he created his second business - Ancient Wings. Over the next 5 years, he taught over a 1000 students the art of working with energy. It was in these classes that he became aware of a angelic presence and over time, began to develop a conscious relationship with this being called Michael.In 1998, he began to openly share this relationship. The tools and information presented within a variety of programs and services became know as the Teachings of Michael. In 2013, he retired as a custom furnituremaker to devote all of his time in service to being a conscious creator of his own experience.Please enjoy my conversation with Robert Theiss.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/next-level-soul-podcast-with-alex-ferrari--4858435/support.

M3GAN 2.0 MOVIE REVIEW Although the 2022 horror film M3gan was certainly a hit, it left a lot to be desired. Straddling the gap between wanting to be a horror film and wanting to be a campy comedy with neither foot firmly planted made for a very uneven film. But one thing that did work […]

M3GAN 2.0 MOVIE REVIEW Although the 2022 horror film M3gan was certainly a hit, it left a lot to be desired. Straddling the gap between wanting to be a horror film and wanting to be a campy comedy with neither foot firmly planted made for a very uneven film. But one thing that did work […]

Every year, an average of four planes and twenty boats vanish in this notorious area. Straddling the line between legend and reality, the Bermuda Triangle has inspired countless adventure novels and films, continuing to captivate the public's imagination. This vast region spans approximately 500,000 square kilometres, situated between Florida, Puerto Rico, and the Bermuda archipelago. How did the mystery of the Bermuda Triangle come about? Why is this area so high-risk? In under 3 minutes, we answer your questions! To listen to the last episodes, you can click here: ⁠Where does the myth of the Loch Ness Monster come from?⁠ ⁠Why do we consider Friday 13th unlucky?⁠ ⁠Are women really more emotional than men?⁠ A Bababam Originals podcast, written and realised by Amber Minogue. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In today's episode, I tackle a listener email covering a variety of swing trading topics, including the benefits of cash accounts, T+1 settlements, options trading using straddles, and even straddling the indices with leveraged ETFs. I'll also discuss whether new traders should be trading options and the ramifications that come with skipping over trading equities and jumping into options trading instead. Lots of insights packed into this one!Be sure to check out my Swing-Trading offering through SharePlanner that goes hand-in-hand with my podcast, offering all of the research, charts and technical analysis on the stock market and individual stocks, not to mention my personal watch-lists, reviews and regular updates on the most popular stocks, including the all-important big tech stocks. Check it out now at:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠https://www.shareplanner.com/premium-plans⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

“There's never any point at which I would have to say, ‘Well, I'm only going to do trial work now' or ‘I'm only going to do appellate work,'” Dylan Russell says. He can straddle that line because, as he explains to hosts Todd Smith and Jody Sanders, “I just like the law so much that I think about it all the time.” In this conversation, Dylan discusses why he maintains both trial and appellate skills rather than specializing and suggests how trial lawyers can become strong appellate lawyers. Tune in for his insights and a few war stories, like the time he had to file a Supreme Court petition for writ of certiorari during Winter Storm Uri with no power or printer.Connect and Learn More☑️ Dylan Russell | LinkedIn | Instagram | X | BlueSky☑️ Sorrels Law on LinkedIn | Instagram | Facebook ☑️ Todd Smith | LinkedIn | X | Bluesky☑️ Jody Sanders | LinkedIn | X | Bluesky☑️ Texas Appellate Law Podcast on LinkedIn | X | Instagram | Bluesky☑️ Texas Appellate Counsel PLLC ☑️ Kelly Hart & Hallman, LLP | LinkedIn☑️ Subscribe

Kathy Quimby Johnson grew up in East Peacham before attending college out of state. In the latest installment of "What class are you?," Kathy talks with Erica Heilman about growing up blue collar and straddling two Vermont cultures.

Straddling the US-Canadian border, the Haskell Library has a unique location: it is situated in both the towns of Stanstead, Quebec and Derby Line, Vermont. Until now, an agreement allowed Canadians to use a stretch of pavement on the American side to access the library. But since a controversial visit by US Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem back in January, US Border Protection has put an end to that agreement. As the iconic border town now awaits the fate of its century-old customs posts and famous Canusa Street, Stanstead already embodies the growing divide between Americans and Canadians. FRANCE 24's François Rihouay, Joanne Profeta and Fraser Jackson report.

PART 3 They were the Comanche, or Numunuh—meaning "The People"— and they were the undisputed "Lords of the Plains," fiercely guarding their vast homeland across Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Colorado, and New Mexico. Masters of horseback warfare, they resisted westward expansion as the U.S. government pushed settlers into their territory. In an 1836 raid on Fort Parker, nine-year-old Cynthia Ann Parker was taken captive. She embraced Comanche life, later marrying Chief Peta Nocona. And their son, Quanah Parker, became a legendary leader. As the U.S. broke the Treaty of Medicine Lodge, Quanah led his people in the Red River War, the last major conflict between the southern Plains tribes and the U.S. military. Realizing continued resistance meant destruction, he surrendered at Fort Sill in 1875 to secure his people's survival. Straddling two worlds, Quanah worked to bridge the divide between Native and white societies. Though never elected chief, he was appointed the Comanche Nation's Principal Chief. To his family, he was a beloved grandfather who championed education and Comanche traditions. To history, he remains the "Last Chief of the Comanche." In parts 1 and 2 of this series, I spoke with one of Quanah Parker's descendants, Jody Parker. Now in part 3, you'll hear directly from Quanah's great grandchildren: Jacquetta Parker Ardith Parker-Leming LaNora Parke Sandra Chesnut Don Allen Parker Jody Colbert The family shares insights on: - Quanah's influence on the importance of education and always showing up dressed to impress - His vision for a school and church for his people - What Quanah was like as a master horseman and a great warrior - The significance of Comanche oral history and that much of their knowledge came from both their elders and the Mennonite missionaries Quanah worked with - Did Quanah really tell a missionary she was "ugly"? You may be surprised by the answer! Finally, the elders share a heartfelt reflection on how Quanah bridged two worlds—the world of his people and of those who had taken over. Unfortunately, when I recorded this 2 years ago, my sound and video were messed up. So thank you for your patience, as it has been cleaned up as best as possible. Native ChocTalk Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/nativechoctalkpodcast All Podcast Episodes: https://nativechoctalk.com/podcasts/

U.S. officials are making it harder for Canadians to access the iconic Haskell Free Library that straddles the border between Quebec and Vermont, a shared building that used to be a sign of friendship between the two nations. We hear from a library board member about how the town of Stanstead is pushing back against the move.

Meryl chats with Kim Salzman about her historical fiction novel, Straddling Black and White, the story of fourteen-year-old Azmera, who takes part in the mass immigration of Ethiopian Jewry to Israel in the 1980s. They also talk about the current war in Israel and its impact on Kim, her family, and friends. Kim was born and raised in Columbus, Ohio. After receiving a degree in psychology from Columbia University, she lived and worked on a kibbutz in Israel, which inspired her to make Aliyah. After receiving her law degree from the University of Michigan, she immigrated to Israel where she became fascinated by the stories of Jewish immigrants to Israel from all over the world. She served in the international law department of the Israel Defense Forces, and also advocated for the legal rights of Ethiopian-Israelis. Kim lives in Northern Israel with her husband, three children and a dog. Currently, she works as the Israel and Overseas Director at the Jewish Federation of Greater Pittsburgh. Website: www.kimsalzman.com/ Facebook: www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100091317043993/ People of the Book is copyrighted by Authors on the Air Global Radio Network #AuthorsOnTheAir #AuthorsOnTheAirGlobalRadioNetwork #AOTA #KimSalzman #StraddlingBlackAndWhite #HistoricalFiction #EthiopianIsraelis #EthiopianJews #Aliyah #MakingAliyah #Israel #EthiopianAliyah #Sudan #OperationSolomon #OperationMoses #Racism #Identity #FamilySecrets #Assimilation #Acculturation #ClashOfCultures #October7 #IsraelAtWar #Hostages #WarAgainstHamas #IsraeliArmy #IsraeliArmyService #PeopleoftheBook #MerylAin #TheTakeawayMen #Sequel #ShadowsWeCarry #LetsTalkJewishBooks #JewsLoveToRead!

Galatians 3:15-17 Thanks to everyone who supports TMBH at patreon.com/thetmbhpodcast You're the reason we can all do this together! Discuss the episode here Music by Jeff Foote

Would you like access to our advanced agency training for FREE? https://www.agencymastery360.com/training Have overwhelm or frustration ever made you want to sell your agency? When you're burned out, the grass might look greener — but one agency owner learned that it's not. Discover why he sold after just two years plus why the acquisition was dissolved and he grew his original business back to 5X within the next four years. Learn more about his reflections on why his initial burnout came to be, the reasons that partnership failed, and how he managed to rebuild his agency even stronger by surrounding himself with the right people. Alex Polamero is the founder of Ninestone Partners, an agency focused on the middle of the funnel. They build marketing and sales automation systems that help clients scale and effectively nurture prospects to closing. He discuss the evolution of his career, going from solopreneur to building and selling his agency and remaining as an equity partner. Alex also dives into his mindset and reasons behind his agency's sale and the events that led to him taking back ownership of its name and original clients. In this episode, we'll discuss: Selling as a way out of the burnout trap. Cashflow issues and not making payroll.  Lessons after buying back his agency. Subscribe Apple | Spotify | iHeart Radio Sponsors and Resources E2M Solutions: Today's episode of the Smart Agency Masterclass is sponsored by E2M Solutions, a web design, and development agency that has provided white-label services for the past 10 years to agencies all over the world. Check out e2msolutions.com/smartagency and get 10% off for the first three months of service. Building an Agency by Filling the Gap Alex has over 20 years of experience working with CRMs, beginning as an Oracle superuser with an extensive network of contacts and later becoming a Marketo-certified expert managing marketing for a billion-dollar real estate firm. Seven years ago, he took the leap to start his own venture, Ninestone Partners. When he first launched his business, Alex viewed other agencies as competitors, seeing them as rivals in areas like website development and paid advertising. However, years of experience shifted his perspective. Today, his agency operates as a collaborator, working alongside other agencies and specializing in the middle of the funnel—where their expertise truly shines. According to Alex, most people don't know the nuances of every automation system, which one to use in each industry and how to help businesses grow quickly. This knowledge gap is where his team excels, helping businesses grow quickly by leveraging the right automation strategies tailored to their needs. Escaping Burnout by Selling the Agency Two years after starting his agency, Alex had two full-time employees and several contractors, even managing automated marketing solutions for a larger 25-person agency. Despite this success, he found himself overwhelmed and burned out. Looking back, he realizes the root of his struggles was that he hadn't chosen between being a solopreneur—taking most of the profits to fund his lifestyle—or committing to being a true business owner. Straddling both worlds, he continued accepting new projects for quick profits without building the necessary team infrastructure. His fear of hiring and potential failure led to increasingly unsustainable workweeks filled with late nights and weekends. This approach inevitably led to stagnation. Alex faced a classic dilemma: unable to handle more clients alone, yet afraid to bring on additional help. Like many inexperienced business owners, he had initially prioritized money over time and it took years before he learned to value time with his employees, family, and himself. His mindset reflected a common misconception among agency owners: that leadership means outworking everyone else and that constant busyness equates to productivity. Exhausted from this unsustainable approach, Alex ultimately sold his agency in a deal keeping him on as an equity partner. The arrangement promised relief from the administrative and management duties he disliked, allowing him to focus solely on sales. Post-Sale Breakdown: Cashflow Issues and Not Making Payroll The first weeks post-sale were great for Alex. He finally had time for himself and even went on a skiing trip with some friends. However, eight months later, the reality of balancing multiple roles began to take its toll. Juggling his sales responsibilities, equity partnership duties, and technical operations proved far more challenging than he had anticipated. Around this time, Alex and his partners discovered a critical issue: their invoicing process had completely broken down, resulting in six months of unpaid invoices, an oversight that left them without the funds to pay their 25 employees. With no money to cover payroll, Alex was forced to take out a high-interest loan, a decision that weighed heavily on him and his family. It became clear that not everything was going as well as he'd initially hoped. After this, Alex and the other partners reached the conclusion that there were some aspects of running the business in which they just didn't agree. Why Clarity is Key: Growing 5x in Four Years The heart-to-heart with his partners culminated in an offer to buy back his agency. Under the terms of the deal, his partners would retain his equity and any new clients acquired during that year, while Alex regained his previous clients and rights to the Ninestone name. Though he restarted with only half the business he had before the partnership, Alex viewed it as a fresh start. Four years later, his agency had grown to five times its size at the time of the split. This period was a lesson in humility and forced Alex to confront the reality of his situation and acknowledge that he didn't have all the answers. It also underscored the inherent uncertainty of the entrepreneurial journey—a reality he had to embrace rather than resist. Furthermore, the experience taught Alex an important lesson about having clarity as you start to build your business. Do you want to be a consultant working only with contractors and never having to build a team? Or do you want to build a business that you can sell in the future? The pathway is different; the mentality and systems are different for each approach. Once he committed to a clear direction, he Alex understood he needed to surround himself with experts. The founder does not need to do it all and be a lone wolf. Instead, being part of a pack brought him much more joy and helped him grow much more than he'd expected. Embracing Collaboration and Uncertainty to Unlock Your Agency's Potential What's the biggest bottleneck holding your agency back at the moment? As Alex learned with experience, he had been the bottleneck stifling his agency's growth by trying to juggle multiple responsibilities without a clear delineation. During his second run with the agency, he knew that as the visionary leader, he needed an integrator that would handle operations, freeing him up to focus on sales. By collaborating with others and delegating tasks according to expertise, owners can focus on their strengths, ultimately leading to a more efficient and successful operation. Basically, Alex figured out where he wanted to go and who he needed to hire to get there. Ultimately, the journey of building a business is not just about reaching a destination but about embracing the process as an ongoing experiment. Adopting a mindset that values experimentation and collaboration can lead to both personal fulfillment and professional success. Entrepreneurship is inherently uncertain. However by acknowledging this, you can cultivate a culture of innovation within your team, encouraging creative problem-solving and the exploration of new ideas. Do You Want to Transform Your Agency from a Liability to an Asset? Looking to dig deeper into your agency's potential? Check out our Agency Blueprint. Designed for agency owners like you, our Agency Blueprint helps you uncover growth opportunities, tackle obstacles, and craft a customized blueprint for your agency's success.

Can you follow The Freedom Model while attending AA/NA for community? Mark & Michelle discuss balancing autonomy with healthy relationships.

GOOD EVENING: TONIGHT SPECIAL EDITION: HUGHES FIRE: North of Santa Clarita straddling the 5 Freeway. #PacificWatch:  Moving fast.  @JCBliss 1952 Kings Canyon National Forest fire. CBS EYE ON THE WORLD WITH JOHN BATCHELOR FIRST HOUR 9:00-9:15 #Ukraine: Friedrich Merz to Kyiv Colonel Jeff McCausland, USA (retired) @mccauslj @CBSNews @dickinsoncol 9:15-9:30 #GAZA: Doubts of the Ceasefire Colonel Jeff McCausland, USA (retired) 9:30-9:45 #Tariffs: Tax Net not Gross John Cochrane, Hoover Institution 9:45-10:00 #Social Security: 70 is the new 50 & What is to be done? John Cochrane, Hoover Institution SECOND HOUR 10:00-10:15 #BERLIN: Macron and Scholz in Paris is old Europe Judy Dempsey, Senior Scholar, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace in Berlin 10:15-10:30 #BERLIN: Many in the CDU supports Ukraine Judy Dempsey, Carnegie Endowment 10:30-10:45 #POTUS: Biden and the Pardon Power @AndrewCMcCarthy @NRO @ThadMcCotter @theamgreatness 10:45-11:00 #POTUS: Releasing Peltier @AndrewCMcCarthy @NRO @ThadMcCotter @theamgreatness THIRD HOUR 11:00-11:30 #NewWorldReport: Mexico and Trump Administration demands Professor Evan Ellis, U.S. Army War College Strategic Studies Institute @revanellis #NewWorldReportEllis 11:30-11:45 #NewWorldReport: Panama and China 11:45-12:00 #NewWorldReport: Marco Rubio to State FOURTH HOUR 12:00-12:15 #Russia: The price of oil is Russia's weakness Michael Bernstam, Hoover Institution 12:15-12:30 #France: Starmer's failure to lead Simon Constable, Occitanie 12:30-12:45 #FAA: Politely to SpaceX and Blue Origin Bob Zimmerman, BehindtheBlack.com 12:45-1:00 #MARS: Perseverance on the summit of Gale Crater

In this bonus episode, I reflect on a powerful conversation with Barb Higgins, who has faced numerous life challenges, including the tragic loss of her daughter. Barb's journey is a testament to resilience and finding meaning in grief. She emphasizes that while our experiences shape us, they do not solely define us. She shares how she maintains her joyful spirit despite the hardships, even describing herself as a "wrinkly kid" at heart. This is my little episode to convince you to listen to Barb's full story on The Life Shift - https://www.thelifeshiftpodcast.com/s3e159.Takeaways:Life experiences, even traumatic ones, can shape us without solely defining our identities. Barb's story illustrates the power of authentic storytelling in connecting with others. Embracing both joy and sorrow allows us to live more fully despite past traumas. The significance of community and support in overcoming life's toughest moments is paramount. This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis: Podcorn - https://podcorn.com/privacy

Barb Higgins shares a deeply moving and raw story about the loss of her daughter, Molly, an experience that transformed her life in unimaginable ways. The conversation explores the complexities of grief, addiction, and the journey toward healing after such a profound loss. Barb candidly discusses her struggles with substance use as a coping mechanism and how she navigated the tumultuous emotions that followed Molly's death. As she reflects on her experiences, Barb emphasizes the importance of allowing oneself to feel and process pain without judgment. The episode concludes with a message of hope and resilience, highlighting that even in the darkest moments, there are pathways to new beginnings and personal growth.Takeaways: Life is a balance of joy and sorrow, and both can coexist simultaneously. Straddling life's challenges can feel like being on a picket fence, with highs and lows. The journey through grief can lead to unexpected paths and new beginnings. Coping mechanisms, even unhealthy ones, emerge as we try to handle trauma. The importance of sharing stories lies in connecting with others who have similar experiences. Transformation often arises from our darkest moments, leading us to new perspectives. Barb Higgins is a dedicated educator, coach, and author committed to inspiring others through her personal experiences. Her journey from overcoming childhood trauma to becoming a published author highlights her resilience and passion for personal growth. Barb's work in education and athletics continues to empower individuals to pursue their own paths of healing and transformation.Connect with Barb Higgins:www.athousandtinysteps.comwww.mollybfoundation.orgResources: To listen in on more conversations about pivotal moments that changed lives forever, subscribe to "The Life Shift" on Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen to podcasts. If you enjoyed this episode, please take a moment to rate the show 5 stars and leave a review! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️Access ad-free episodes released two days early and bonus episodes with past guests through Patreon.https://patreon.com/thelifeshiftpodcastConnect with me:Instagram: www.instagram.com/thelifeshiftpodcastFacebook: www.facebook.com/thelifeshiftpodcastYouTube: https://bit.ly/thelifeshift_youtubeTwitter: www.twitter.com/thelifeshiftpodLinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/company/thelifeshiftpodcastWebsite: www.thelifeshiftpodcast.comThis podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis: Podcorn - https://podcorn.com/privacy

Some podcast apps may not display links from our show notes properly, so we have included a list of links at the end of this description. * What role does dominant culture play in how we experience the sensations, thoughts, feelings, and deeper existential mysteries of our bodies? Dr. Roger Kuhn, a Poarch Creek Two-Spirit Indigequeer activist, artist, sex therapist, and somacultural theorist, believes that Two-Spirit people hold a unique and valuable perspective. Straddling colonial imposition and tribal significance, Two-Spirit identity offers a powerful decolonizing framework to achieve freedom and navigate the toxic systems of domination that impose upon the precious truth of who we are. * In this episode, Dr. Kuhn is joined by queer nonbinary therapist and mediator Jay Tzvia Helfand for a conversation illuminating the ways our bodies offer portals to our own liberation and how viewing our bodies through a somacultural lens can help us better understand how dominant culture informs and, all too often, misinforms our relationship to our bodies. * Dr. Kuhn discusses his latest book, Somacultural Liberation, based on his revolutionary mode of inquiry, Somacultural Liberation, an embodied practice that helps people connect with the intersections of their identity. Dr. Kuhn's approach illuminates the full impact of our cultural reality in shaping both our individual and shared sense of self. * This episode was recorded during a live online event on June 20th, 2024. You can also watch it on the CIIS Public Programs YouTube channel. A transcript is available at ciispod.com. To find out more about CIIS and public programs like this one, visit our website ciis.edu and connect with us on social media @ciispubprograms. * We hope that each episode of our podcast provides opportunities for growth, and that our listeners will use them as a starting point for further introspection. Many of the topics discussed on our podcast have the potential to bring up feelings and emotional responses. If you or someone you know is in need of mental health care and support, here are some resources to find immediate help and future healing: * -Visit 988lifeline.org or text, call, or chat with The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline by dialing 988 from anywhere in the U.S. to be connected immediately with a trained counselor. Please note that 988 staff are required to take all action necessary to secure the safety of a caller and initiate emergency response with or without the caller's consent if they are unwilling or unable to take action on their own behalf. * -Visit thrivelifeline.org or text “THRIVE” to begin a conversation with a THRIVE Lifeline crisis responder 24/7/365, from anywhere: +1.313.662.8209. This confidential text line is available for individuals 18+ and is staffed by people in STEMM with marginalized identities. * -Visit translifeline.org or call (877) 565-8860 in the U.S. or (877) 330-6366 in Canada to learn more and contact Trans Lifeline, who provides trans peer support divested from police. * -Visit ciis.edu/ciis-in-the-world/counseling-clinics to learn more and schedule counseling sessions at one of our centers. * -Find information about additional global helplines at befrienders.org. * LINKS * Podcast Transcripts: https://www.ciispod.com/ * California Institute of Integral Studies (CIIS) Website: https://www.ciis.edu/ * CIIS Public Programs YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/c/ciispublicprograms * CIIS Public Programs Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ciispubprograms/ * Mental Health Care and Support Resources: https://988lifeline.org/ https://thrivelifeline.org/ https://translifeline.org/ https://www.ciis.edu/ciis-in-the-world/counseling-clinics https://befrienders.org/

Falen and Jenny discuss the Brianna Chickenfry situation with Zach Bryan, Jenny's trip back home, the new book Falen read that can help with creatives and more! Thank you for listening! 

In this powerful episode of The Professional Homegirl Podcast, Eboné engages with a guest who shares his transformative journey through race, identity, and forgiveness in a divided America. Straddling both Black and white worlds, he opens up about the challenges he faced in reconciling his identity, particularly after learning that his mother was white and struggled with mental illness. This discovery deepened his insight into family dynamics and significantly impacted his experiences with racism, paving the way for his journey toward self-acceptance. As he seeks healing, Eboné's guest encounters the haunting presence of his grandfather's ghost—a man who initially rejected him at birth. This surprising spiritual connection forces him to confront lingering feelings of abandonment and rejection, ultimately leading him toward profound forgiveness and reconciliation. Join Eboné and her guest for a conversation that challenges perceptions, explores the nuances of race, and taps into the spiritual realm as a powerful force for healing. Connect with Eboné: Donate Turkey HERE Buy Eboné A Gift: Shop Now Eboné PHG Storefront: Shop Now Read Eboné's Love Letters: www.theyalltheone.com  Website: www.thephgpodcast.com Instagram: @theprofessionalhomegirl & @thephgpodcast TikTok & Twitter: @theprofessionalhomegirl  Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@theprofessionalhomegirl Email: hello@thephgpodcast.com Shop PHG: https://www.thephgpodcast.com/shopSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In this powerful Q&A session, Dr. Finlayson-Fife took questions from her audience about indecision / straddling. The discussion that followed was a beautiful exploration of vulnerability, fear, finitude, and the importance of claiming our choices in life and in marriage.