Podcasts about wedged

One of the most powerful tools in the fight against climate change is the money sitting in investment portfolios - especially the trillions of dollars invested on behalf of public retirees. That's money that could continue to fund fossil fuel development, or help pay for  climate solutions instead.New York City has implemented an ambitious Net Zero plan for its public pensions. That plan includes divesting from some fossil fuel companies and investing billions of dollars in climate solutions. One company benefiting from that investment is NineDot Energy.   Wedged between an elementary school and a big box shopping center in the Northeast Bronx, NineDot Energy is operating a battery farm that the city's utility company, Con Ed, can call on to help relieve the grid when it gets overstressed. “The batteries hold a combined three megawatts of battery storage. That's enough to power about 3,000 New York City households for four hours on a hot summer day. Last summer, the battery farm was called half a dozen times, which was enough to reduce greenhouse gas emissions by a combined 24 metric tons. That's the equivalent of nine thousand car trips on the Cross Bronx Expressway.Currently, the city has the dirtiest energy grid in the state. More than 90% of its power comes from fossil fuels. NineDot Energy is still in growth mode, but battery farms like this could eventually help the grid transition to renewable sources, like wind and solar.“The sun only shines when nature tells it to; the wind only blows when nature tells it to, but people use electricity when they decide to,” explained Adam Cohen, co-founder of NineDot Energy. “A battery helps mediate that process. It pulls in the extra power when it's available, and then puts it back out when people call for it.” On a recent visit to the Bronx facility, 12-year-old Virtue Onoja showed off a mural she helped paint along with other students from the elementary school across the street, envisioning a future powered by cleaner energy.“One thing about me, I'm definitely an artist,” she said. “I drew a clear blue sky, no pollution, no nothing [and] beautiful yellow flowers and the sun.”There are also drawings of windmills and electric school buses. “There's still a lot of pollution, not just in the Bronx, but just in New York in general,” Onoja said. “All of this is the goal that we want to achieve.”This is an excerpt from the latest season of How We Survive. Listen to the full episode here.

Mark 1:21 - 2:12 chronicles four miracles of Jesus. #1-Jesus cast out an unclean spirit in the Capernaum synagogue. #2- Jesus healed Peter's mother-in-law's fever. (We have already examined both of these.) #3- Jesus cleanses an unclean leper (1:40-45), and #4- Jesus will forgive the sins of a paralytic (2:1-12). Wedged halfway between these four miracles is a short passage that reveals Jesus' priorities in His earthly life and mission. After healing Peter's mother-in-law, Jesus ministered late into the evening, healing and casting out demons (1:32-34). That Sabbath had to have been an exhausting day. Jesus' public ministry had begun as He declared the authority of God's kingdom and pushed back the kingdom of darkness. This marked the beginning of many more days of preaching, teaching, healing, and ministering, ultimately leading to His execution. So, despite how exhausted Jesus must have been after that Sabbath, when the disciples awoke the following day, Jesus was gone. He had risen early and gone to pray. Jesus prioritized communion with the Father in prayer. He knew He needed prayer more than sleep to face the day ahead. Jesus never ceased being God, but what He did, He did as a man in the power of the Spirit. He faithfully depended upon the Father throughout His earthly life. If the Son of God, who upholds all things by the power of His word, prioritized prayer throughout His life, how much more must we if we are to follow Him? When the disciples find Jesus, they expect Him to return to Capernaum immediately. Many people with significant needs had again gathered to see Him. People were still sick, still infirmed, and still under spiritual attack. The priority must be to return and continue the miraculous ministry He began yesterday. However, Jesus refuses to return at this point. Instead, He tells the disciples they must go to other towns "that I may preach there also, for that is why I came out" (v. 38). Jesus prioritized preaching the message of the gospel, refusing to let anything (even his healing and exorcisms) get in the way. His priority was to bring the ultimate eternal healing that comes from being adopted into the kingdom of God. Physical healing is but temporary relief. Christianity is, first and foremost, a message - good news - that Jesus Christ has come to seek and save that which is lost. As we follow Jesus today, our priorities must be those of Jesus as we live for His will and glory. As a man, Jesus showed us how to live in the power of God as we bear His commission to make disciples and live in His presence. Prayer and the Word of God must be prioritized if we are to live faithfully, for it is only in His strength that we are able. Finally, Jesus' priorities of prayer and preaching are not only the example we must follow but how He stands in our place. Because Jesus faithfully and perfectly lived in communion with the Father, so can we. Because Jesus faithfully proclaimed the kingdom, we can now enter in. Because Jesus gave His life as the perfect Lamb of God, we can become co-heirs with Him. As we follow Jesus, let our priorities be conformed to His. I. Jesus Prioritized Prayer (v. 35) II. Jesus Prioritized Preaching (v. 36-39)

‘Tis the season for giving. By TheSleepingKing. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. 7:16 am The door from the bathroom swung open, spilling steam into the dim blue rays of light sneaking in through the blinds. Wrapped in a towel, Shauna strode into her dorm room, feet sinking into the carpet as she padded across the floor. Pausing at the window she pulled the cord to raise the blinds, bathing the room in the soft glow of an overcast Michigan dawn. A dusting of snow covered the glazing. About an inch drifted on the ledge outside. Beyond and several stories down a lone figure rounded onto the back straight of the athletic track. Shauna leaned in, her breath fogging the glass. She poked two dots and underlined them with a curve. Smiled at the new face smiling back at her. It was a beautiful Christmas Eve morning.She unhooked the towel and tossed it over the back of the chair parked under the desk. The cool air plucked at her nipples and sapped the heat from her skin. She skimmed her hands around the bulge of her breasts, across her taut tummy and the arc of her ass. Appraising her profile in the mirror she nodded. Spin class and yoga really paid off this year. From the top drawer of the dresser, she picked out white lace panties and drew them up over toned, creamy thighs. She paired them with red and white argyle knee socks and a soft strapless bra. Sifting through the hangers in the closet she settled on a flirty red A-line dress with wide shoulder straps and a length about mid-thigh. Not practical for the weather. But perfect for the mission. 7:32 am She capped the outfit with a fuzzy Santa hat and white-soled black Keds before returning to the mirror. She turned side to side and took a twirl, the dress flaring out before settling over her legs. Certainly the sexiest elf she'd ever seen. She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. She would need to get going soon to make her deliveries. The schedule was tight. On any other Christmas Eve she'd still be asleep; tucked in tight and dead to the world in a quiet corner of her parents' six-bedroom McMansion in Traverse City. She'd get up around 10:00, meet her brother for lunch, then spend the afternoon serving food at a shelter across town before heading home for the traditional Christmas Eve dinner with her family. This year, dinner had been moved up to lunch – something about grandma and grandpa's flights. So volunteering was out. She was fine with it at first. But as the season ramped up and the holiday spirit infected her, she felt the need to replace it with something. Some way to give back. To spread a little cheer to those less fortunate this time of year. As 3rd floor RA for the co-ed dorm, she was privy to certain information. The administration realized not every student could make it home for the holidays. So the school remained open in a limited capacity, depending on the holiday and how many students remained behind. This year on her floor there were three. And since they were stuck there maybe she could celebrate with them before she left. She snatched a small white drawstring bag off her bed and slung it over her shoulder, the contents momentarily rustling about inside. Taking her key card from the dresser she slipped it into her bra and reached for the door. She paused, re-thinking, the lever rocking under her palm. Quickly, she picked it out and tucked it neatly into the back of a sock instead, before ducking out into the hall. 7:40 am Shauna stopped at Room 303. She gave her usual rata-tat-tat RA knock and shrugged the bag off her shoulder, holding the strap in the crook of her elbow. The corridor was weirdly quiet. No music or raucous conversation bleeding through the walls. She couldn't imagine having to spend the next week here under these conditions. A latch clicked in front of her, and the door creaked open. “Hey Ty,” she chirped, “Merry Christmas!” Ty seemed surprised by the greeting, then confused by her presence. He smiled. “Um…thanks. Merry Christmas to you too.” His eyes dipped – first to her cleavage, then to her legs – before rebounding to hers. He now seemed nervous too. “Can I come in for a minute?” “Uh…yeah, sure.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats he stepped aside. She glided past, her blonde curls swishing about her shoulders. Ty gently shut the door behind her. Shauna glanced around the suite. Open textbooks were strewn across the couch. Graph paper filled with notes littered the desk. The three computer monitors that typically flickered video games, now hosted row upon row of complex equations she didn't understand. Ambient techno pulsed softly through a pair of small speakers, and the room smelled faintly of Axe body spray. “I'm sorry,” he offered, “I wasn't expecting anyone today.” He was a freshman, so she'd only known him one semester. But he seemed like a good kid. Sure, he was disheveled, nerdy, and a little immature. But he was charming and considerate, and very bright – dedicated to keeping his name on the Dean's List. Didn't hurt that he was cute either. “That's okay,” she replied. “Santa knows it sucks having to be here over the holidays, so he got you a present.” She lowered the bag and reached inside, pulling out a deep green envelope with a silver star sticker sealing it shut. “Nothing big, just something to give you a break from…” she waved her arm toward the paper and monitors, “…this.” Cautiously he took the envelope, turning it over to find his name written neatly on the front. “Oh,” he said, “…thanks. That's…really nice.” A moment of awkward silence followed. “Go ahead,” Shauna prompted, “open it.” Ty shrugged. He peeled up the star and lifted the flap, extricating a Christmas card with a red-nosed Rudolph gracing the cover. He smiled as he opened it, eyes tracking back and forth across the page. Wedged in the crease was a white 3 by 5 note card. Flipping it right-side-up he discovered a sketch in black marker in the center. He froze, the smile fading, jaw dropped. He looked up at Shauna. Then back at the card. “Wait…,” he stammered, “is this…. Are you…. Is this for real?” Shauna raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Santa likes to make sure no one on the nice list gets left out.” Her gaze fell to his groin, dialing in on the growing bulge. There was the response she was hoping for. She hung the bag over the doorknob. Closing the distance between them she reached out and pinched the card in her fingers. “Why don't you get comfortable.” She set it on a textbook and slouched against the desk, waiting. Ty looked left, then right, unsure of what to do. Finally, he stepped back and eased himself down to the edge of his bed. Shauna placed her hands on his thighs, pushing them apart before kneeling between them. The tented fleece covering his crotch pointed directly at her. She smiled. Looked up. “You've done this before, right?” He paused a moment, then nodded vigorously. She wasn't convinced. But it didn't really matter. It might even help keep her on schedule. She gave him a shove, forcing him to recline and brace with his arms. Grabbing his sweats by the pockets she jerked at them until they pooled around his ankles. His cock sprang out, slapping his abdomen before swaying back to vertical. She wrapped it in her fingers, the whole head protruding from her fist. He puffed and shivered under her touch. Leaning forward she lowered her head. His body tensed. She raised her eyes to find his narrowed, his mouth rounded and dry. “Relax,” she cooed, “just enjoy it,” and slipped his dick between her lips. A breath rattled his chest. She felt the blanket cinch beneath them as his fingers gripped and pulled. First she teased the glans, undulating her tongue beneath, then around and over the top. His hips shot up to meet her mouth. She lightened her hold, welcoming him in deeper. She bobbed her head to the rhythm of the music – down on one and three, up on two and four. His cock was rock hard, curving into the roof of her mouth with each descent. He sighed, and groaned, and grunted; the tone and timbre of each growing more urgent with each passing minute. Shauna's free hand dove under her dress and between her legs, fingers plucking aside the damp lace and strumming the slick, smooth lips of her pussy. Her partners were usually more experienced. More restrained. It had been some time since one had responded with such virginal enthusiasm. And she found it to be quite the turn-on. She held her neck as steady as she could, relinquishing control of tempo and depth. Ty trembled, huffing air through gritted teeth. Shauna peeked to find his eyes closed, neck strained, deep blue veins pulsing through. Sensing the moment, her fingers left the base of his dick and curled around his balls. She tightened her lips to a gentle squeeze. Ty stalled. A guttural growl forced its way into the air. His eyes popped open wide and fixed on Shauna's. With a batting of lashes, she pushed down on his throbbing cock until the tip of her nose bumped his abdomen. A heartbeat later, torrents of warm, viscid cum spewed into her mouth. The jets struck the back of her palate, sloshing over her tonsils and sliding down her throat. She swallowed hard but couldn't keep up. Each burst seemed richer than the last, filling her cheeks and leaking from the corners of her mouth. Her own juices deluged her fingers in response; the squelching filling the gaps between Ty's staggered gasps. A dozen spurts later his orgasm subsided. Shauna held his cock a little longer, savoring its texture on her lips and the mild, distinct flavor of his seed. She moved with him as his hips sagged back to the mattress, sinking him deeper to the root of his erection. After one final gulp she sucked in her cheeks and lifted her head, teasing the remaining fluids from the head of his dick. He gawked at her, speechless. She pulled her fingers from her pussy and held them up in front of her. They gleamed in the light, strands of grool clinging to her knuckles as she separated them. Fixing on him she sucked each finger into her mouth, swabbing them clean before licking her lips. Ty's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed flat on the bed. Shauna giggled. Pushing off she rocked to her feet. She looked at him spread over the rumpled blanket, his penis twitching on his tummy. She nodded, pleased with herself. Sweeping her hair out of her face she took the gift sack from the doorknob and the note card from the desk, slipping the latter into the former. “Did you enjoy your present?” she asked, slinging the bag over her shoulder. Ty groaned a sigh, his satisfaction evident. A smile lit Shauna's lips. “Good,” she said, “that's great.” She made her way back to the door. “You know, Santa can't offer gifts like this to everyone, so…let's keep this between us, okay?” An arm raised and a hand approximated a wave before tumbling limp to the mattress. She took it as a yes. Catching her reflection in the window she adjusted her hat. “Merry Christmas Ty,” she said softly, before disappearing into the corridor. 8:05 am Snowflakes drifted past the tall narrow windows of the student lounge separating the north and south wings of the third floor. Curled up at the far end of the couch opposite the ping pong table, Shauna twisted the cap off a bottle of diet soda and took a sip. Pulling her phone from the bag she checked the time. Javon would arrive in fifteen minutes. Plenty of time to finish her drink. She stretched out across the cushions and downed another swig. This one excited her more than the others. She and Javon were casually acquainted. Though both juniors they rarely shared classes. But they saw each other often around campus; playing pool in the lounge, grabbing coffee at Starks, or stocking up on dollar tacos Tuesday nights at Frankie's. And always, always flirting. Nothing ever came of it, unfortunately. He was putting himself through school and the scholarships just weren't enough. So he needed to work a lot. Every chance he got he'd bank some overtime or pick up an extra shift. That didn't leave much time for anything else. But today was Christmas Eve. The print shop would be closed tomorrow, so he couldn't go in tonight. Which she hoped would free up just enough time for what she had in store. A door closed in the distance, followed by footsteps in the hallway behind her. She checked her phone. He was early. She chugged another mouthful of soda, then quietly stuffed everything into the bag. The footsteps halted. A latch turned and a door opened, then closed. She counted to thirty, then slid off the couch and left the lounge, rounding the corner toward 317. 8:08 am Shauna waited, impatiently, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Still no response. She knocked again, harder this time. Shuffling noises, then heavy footfalls. The door swung open on a scowling Javon, his uniform shirt crumpled in his fist, muscles chiseled and taut. She smiled up at him, head cocked to the side. He looked her over, his mood softening as he recognized who she was. “Hey,” he said, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing here?” She shrugged, ignoring the twinge in her pussy. “Waiting to see you. Can I come in?” Javon retreated inside, tossing his shirt on the bed and perching on the edge of his dresser. Shauna followed, taking quick stock of the room. Clean and sparse. Suitable for someone who spent very little time there. She turned her attention to him. Tall and dark, with bold, crisp features. His hands splotched with cyan and yellow ink from the press. “Is um…is this a bad time?” “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I was just going to take a shower, then go down for a nap.” He waved a hand in her direction. “Soooo, who are you supposed to be?” “I'm a Christmas elf,” she replied. “Santa's Helper.” Javon's eyes widened. “Oh. You're a lot taller than I would have expected of an elf.” “Well, we're not all size challenged artisans baking cookies in the off-season you know. Some of us are taller, and educated, and…really cute.” He laughed, his pecs jumping. “That's fair. Please forgive my ignorance of the elf community. I don't know any – aside from you.” She shrugged the bag off her shoulder and reached inside, crossing the carpet between them. “Listen, she began, “Santa knows how hard you work to be here, and how much that keeps you from having a life. So, he got you a little gift. It won't make up for having to be here over the holidays, but it might help take the edge off?” She pulled out a red envelope and handed it to him. He stared at it, his face cycling through several emotions, settling on confused. “Thanks,” he said, “that's…really sweet. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything.” Shauna smiled to herself, setting the bag on the floor. “Open it.” She wandered past him to the window. Raising the blinds she took a quick peek outside before turning and sliding up onto his desk, swinging her feet freely beneath. Javon zipped a finger under the flap and extracted the card; a red-nosed Rudolph printed on the cover. As he shook it open a white note card fluttered out. He snatched it out of the air and held it up. A sketch in black marker graced the white space. Shauna watched over his shoulder as he stared at the figures suggested by the swooping lines. He fanned the card, then turned and eased off his seat. He walked over to her, holding it up, the image upside down. His mouth curled in one corner. “This is uhhh…you and me?” She squinted at the picture. “Well…right-side up and all, but…sure.” She took it from him and snapped it on the desk. Her arms extended, fingers wedging themselves between the waist of his jeans and the warm, smooth skin of his abdomen. She reeled him in between her legs, squeezing them in hers. “Come on,” she said, thumbs separating the button and peeling the zipper. “Take a break.” Javon reached out, tracing the curl of her ear with his finger. Tilting his head, he leaned in for a kiss. Shauna planted a hand in the center of his chest, stopping his lips a hair's breadth from hers. His heartbeat pulsed through her arm and gut, thumping through her clit like a kick drum. She tapped a finger on the card beside her. He glanced down. Then back at her. She smiled. Pushed him away. She hopped off the desk, lowering her eyes to the height of his fly. Waiting. Javon nodded. In a single swoop he shoved his jeans to the floor and stepped out. The outline of his cock bulged the breathable fabric of his boxer briefs, curving down his right leg. A squeak left Shauna's throat. She reached inside and fished it out, needing both hands to hoist the shaft. It hardened in her grip, rising, reaching for its target. She pulled a few long strokes, its heat warming her hands. She had imagined what he might be hiding. But none of those dreams fell short of reality. Reluctantly she let go. Eyes fixed on her prize she slowly turned round, bending over the desk. She shuffled her feet a shoulder's width apart and casually wiggled her ass. Javon stepped up, his demeanor all business. Stroking his meat with one hand he grabbed the hem of her dress in the other and flipped it up over her butt. Her firm white cheeks glowed in the morning light. He took the waistband of her panties and rolled them down her hips and thighs, abandoning them around her calves and exposing her labia to the chill of the room. She was sopping wet. He swiped his penis along her slit, greasing it with her cream. Current bolted up her spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She threw her ass toward him, anxious to be filled. But he took his time, lubing every inch to a slippery shine. Finally satisfied, he set a palm in the small of her back and wedged the tip of his cock between her folds. Slow and steady, he sank into her vagina. Shauna gasped, eyes round. Her knees buckled, fingertips clawing at the laminate as her canal expanded to accommodate the intruder. It was thicker than any dick or dildo she remembered. And she was suddenly grateful he'd been so careful to slicken up. He took shallow, steady thrusts, loosening her vice a touch each time. Short, silent breaths gave way to grunts and groans. She tried to restrain herself in case anyone still left was walking the halls. But it was a losing battle. The pressure coiling inside would soon be too much to contain. Javon curled over her. Reaching into her dress he freed her breasts from their padded sling and cupped one in each hand. He pinched her nipples between strong fingers, yoking her tits to her clit with little bolts of lightning. The heat of the moment telegraphed through her skin, flushing her ears, cheeks, and chest a robust, rosy pink. He pushed on, diving deeper into her velvet pouch. Her arms burning, Shauna lowered her elbows and forehead to the desk. Her hair shrouded her periphery, leaving the only clear view that of her lover's balls swaying back and forth between her thighs. A delightful fog rolled over her brain, occluding everything outside the aura of their bodies. “Do you want it all,” Javon whispered, his voice piercing the veil. Shauna turned her head, mouth agape. “That's not all of it?” A baritone chuckle rumbled from his chest. He straightened up, releasing her boobs for a firm hold of her waist. He eased down the throttle, slowing his rhythm. Measuring the distance. She caught his eyes for a moment, glimpsing the same lechery she felt coursing through her veins. He smiled at her. Then hilted his cock in her pussy. “Uhhh gawd.” A wave of pleasure rippled out from her core, breaking over her entire body. She couldn't gauge how big he was, but he was now twice as deep as he had been seconds ago. He gave her a moment and a few shallow dips before ramping up the pace; drawing his dick out to the barb each time before plunging back in. Shauna's ass rippled, limbs shuddering under each impact. She stretched her arms to brace herself. But her hands squeaked against the desk each time he crashed into her, jolting her forward. She began to lose control. Her pelvic muscles clenched; labia stretching around his shaft. He growled his approval. A stern smack stung her left buttock, forcing a squeal from her larynx and a shock to her sex. Another followed, echoing off the walls into her ears. Her strength failed, drooping her back and turning her legs to jelly. Javon grabbed hold of one and lifted it, bending the knee and setting it securely on the desktop. He continued to hammer away. The cords binding her orgasm began to fray. She imagined his view from behind; her sodden pink snatch vulgarly splayed for the massive dark rod plowing her gut. Words escaped her, leaving only screams and moans to communicate her desire. 8:42 am Shauna's head was swimming, her brain just mush. But she held on, wanting this ecstasy to last forever. Her hat flew off her head, landing silently on the windowsill. Long fingers raked through her hair. They gathered her curls into his fist and pulled. Her head snapped back, jaw dropped, eyelids fluttering. The cords snapped and the coil exploded. She bore down on his dick, silent and stiff, her body racked with orgasm. Her toes dug into the carpet, her raised foot flopping about over the edge of the desk. She slapped the top with her hands, translating her contractions into a frantic rhythm beat out for Javon to hear. Her juices flowed freely, seeping out past his cock and dribbling down her thighs. And through all this, he continued to fuck her. Shauna's orgasm continued in suspended animation, tweaking her muscles and prickling her skin. As snug as he fit there was now no friction. He glided in and out like a piston in a well-oiled machine. He pumped harder, faster, working to create resistance. But her pussy was a flooded mess and that wasn't going to change. He whispered something toward her ear. A question? She couldn't decipher the words. But it didn't matter. As long as he kept filling her, perpetuating this feeling, he could do whatever he wanted. She nodded as best she could. The pounding slowed and the hand holding her waist released. The slapping of skin ceased, and his penis slipped out of her vagina. The emptiness was deflating, like the air had been sucked from her lungs. She turned to look but he stopped her, pushing her head back down to the desk. She opened her mouth to demand he continue and that's when she felt it. The pressure on the dip of her anus. Her insides knotted up. Everything clenched, then released. Her rosebud relaxed, and Javon's cock surged up her ass. She held her breath, expecting pain. But there was none. Only an indescribable fullness she had never experienced before. Each time he retracted her stomach dropped. Each plunge threatened to split her at the seams. Orgasm ripped through her again, rattling her bones and sweating from every pore. The room closed in, swaddling her in a thick black heat. She screamed but heard nothing. Felt only his cock. His fingers curled over her shoulders and around her neck. He pushed and pulled her with new urgency, opposing the swing of his hips. He'd found the resistance he was seeking, and it drove him on toward ferocious climax. In her stupor, Shauna somehow regained control of her limbs. She twisted an arm behind her back and flailed at his. When he looked down, wanton lust blazing in his eyes, she willed words from her lips. “Cum in me,” she cried, breathless, desperate for his load. “Cum in my ass.” He glared at her, neck craned, jaw set. He shifted his weight, pinning her tits to the desk and raising her butt. He tried to hold out a bit longer. But she was too tight and he was too far gone. Nodding his head Javon closed his eyes and buried his throbbing cock balls deep, erupting hot semen deep in her bowels. He roared in release, his balls smashed against her pussy, rocking into the curve of her ass. The pressure lifted her foot from the floor, grinding her hip into the edge of the desktop. But she didn't care. His cum splattered inside her, capping her climax with a warm, gooey buzz. Her buttocks quaked with each spasm. She had his cock. All of it. In the moment, that was everything. 9:04 am Gradually the pumping slowed. The pressure on her back eased and the room drifted back into focus. She glimpsed herself in a mirror near the window; hair disheveled, bare breasts smushed beneath the cockled red fabric; a trembling leg coiled on the desk, panties dangling casually from her ankle. “You are so fuckin' hot,” said the voice in her ear. She cooed, not yet able to formulate words. He rested in her a moment longer, sharing her warmth. When they'd finally caught their breath Javon stood tall. Kneading his hands into the meat of her cheeks he pushed himself back, emerging from her ass with an obscene wet slurp. Empty, Shauna sighed, the void disappointing. Her rosebud gaped, then winked several times before shrinking back into place. Javon slumped against the wall near the window. Fumbling with the latch he cracked it open. December rushed in, swirling round their bodies and raising goosebumps on their skin. Shauna shivered, invigorated, the cold soothing her scalded sex. Watching her lover she smeared her cream over her pussy and along the crack of her ass. His organ flexed toward her, but Javon shook his head. Smiling, she wriggled off the desk. On wobbly legs she gathered the note card and the bag and set them on the edge of the bed. Rummaging around in the neck of her dress she tucked her tits back into her bra and plumped them into position. Javon sauntered over, her hat in one hand, soggy panties in the other. She took the cap and fit it over her head. “Can't put those back on,” she said of her underwear. “You keep them.” He nodded, draping them over the corner of the television. She shouldered the bag and looked up at him. “Did Santa get you what you wanted?” He laughed. She followed his eyes down to his semi-hard, polished rod. “I think he fucking crushed it,” he replied. Closing the gap between them he lowered his voice. “Tell me something though. Is this strictly a Christmas situation, or…are…special occasions not required.” Shauna shrugged, the corners of her mouth curling up. “Why don't you come by sometime and find out,” she offered. “You know where I live.” She gave his penis a playful nip and tug and backed out into the hallway. 9:13 am Shauna stood quietly outside Room 334, gently swaying to a tune in her head. Her fingertips tingled and her pussy hummed along to the beat, still riding the high of the last half-hour. A trickle of semen stained her inner thigh, the remainder of Javon's deposit still trapped inside. She smoothed the front of her dress and flipped the pom of the hat to the side. She was a few minutes behind schedule. But that shouldn't be critical here. Ready for more, she knocked on the door. There was a rustling inside. A few moments later the door opened on a beautiful raven-haired Japanese girl in a tight anime tee shirt and bright blue boyshorts. Seemingly surprised, the girl dropped the pencil she held in her left hand. “Hey Sachiko,” Shauna chirped. Sachiko ripped off her headphones and flashed a nervous smile. Shauna nodded inside. “Can I come in for a minute?” Sachiko glanced over at something Shauna couldn't see, then backed her slender frame away from the door. Shauna strode inside, the latch clicking shut behind her. Unlike her first two stops, this was a bit of a gamble. Their contact had been minimal, generally restricted to her RA duties. And her scouting report was incomplete. She knew Sachiko was a sophomore, and a graphic design major. She spent summers at home in Osaka. But she couldn't afford to fly back and forth for breaks, so she usually spent them on campus. Rumor was she was into women. Of this Shauna had no confirmation. But from their interactions in the dorm and Sachiko's shyness and fluster around particular friends she did have a feeling. It was risky. But that heightened the thrill. The room was warm and cozy, lit by a floor lamp and a cube on the nightstand. Fuzzy orange pillows adorned the loveseat below the window. Incense burned in a jade tray on the corner of the dresser and a thick down comforter covered the bed. Several sketchpads scattered across the desk, a collection of porcelain cats lining the shelf above. It was clearly the space of someone needing a touch of home. “Am I like…in trouble…or something?” Sachiko wondered. “No,” Shauna laughed, amused as much by her apparent discomfort as the absurdity of the question. “I mean, have you ever been in trouble? I just wanted to wish you Happy Holidays.” Sachiko blushed. Her face made several contortions before settling on a half nod and awkward smile. “Th…thank you,” she stammered. Shauna pinched her lips between her teeth. So far so good. “I like your kitties,” Shauna continued, drifting toward the shelf. She scanned for messages, photos, anything that might give her a clue. “My sister sends me a new one for my birthday every year,” Sachiko offered. “They're beautiful.” She spotted a sheet of paper with dark smudges sticking out of the pad on top of the pile. “What's this?” she asked, reaching for it. “What? Oh!” Sachiko leapt toward her, mortified. “It's nothing, I just – ” Before she could swipe the pad Shauna had the page, staring at a gorgeous unfinished graphite sketch of a sleeping woman. She lay on her side, head on a pillow, hands underneath. Bikini panties cloaked her nethers, an arm crossed her bare breasts. And her face. Well…. Her face was very familiar. Shauna smiled to herself. This might work after all. Sachiko slunk back as Shauna turned around. She studied the drawing a moment longer, impressed by the resemblance. Finally, she looked up at Sachiko. The rosy hue of her cheeks crept into her face and neck. Shauna noticed for the first time she wasn't wearing a bra. “Did you draw this?” Sachiko sighed, looking everywhere forward. “I um…. It…it's for a class.” “You did it from memory.” She rubbed her arms with her hands. “Yeah. It just…works that way.” “It's amazing.” Shauna returned the drawing to the desk. Sluffing off the bag she retrieved the final card. “I know you don't really celebrate Christmas,” she said, “but it can't be easy being here by yourself while everyone else is. So, I got you a gift.” The silver envelope rested in her palm while Sachiko hesitated, her name glittering in gold marker. She looked up, embarrassment clouding her eyes. Shauna smiled, extending her hand. Finally, Sachiko accepted. She zipped open the flap and removed the card. A red-nosed Rudolph blinked at her from the cover. Shauna dropped the bag on the loveseat. She clasped her hands behind her back and crossed her legs at the ankles, a flirty little swivel seizing her hips. Sachiko picked the note card from the fold and looked closely. Her fingers began to tremble. Shauna sidled up closer, tucking a lock of Sachiko's hair behind her ear. Sachiko jumped at the light touch. But her gaze remained fixed on the card. Her lips parted. No sound escaped. “If you want me to stop,” Shauna murmured, “just let me know.” She kissed Sachiko's ear lobe, rolling it between her lips before drifting to her cheek and the nape of her neck. Sachiko's tremor spread to her chest. The cards fell from her grasp. Shauna continued down, over her shoulders to the swell of her breasts. She caressed one in each palm, grazing the nipples with the soft cotton of the shirt. Sachiko tangled her fingers in Shauna's hair. They curled and flexed as Shauna descended, raising her shirt and kissing her navel. She lingered there, circling, lips skimming Sachiko's butter-smooth, unblemished skin. She smelled of cherry blossom and jasmine. Shauna filled her head with the scent, priming her for the peach she was about to unwrap. Sachiko's hushed whisper floated down from above. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.” Sinking to her haunches Shauna eyed Sachiko's sex. A small wet spot darkened the fabric between her legs. Shauna peeled the underwear down over Sachiko's ass and thighs, pooling them around her feet. Exposed to the low light was a plump, tidy pussy, closely cropped dark pubic hair gracing her mound. Shauna's lips quivered. She bowed, pressing her face between Sachiko's thighs, sopping up the heat. Sachiko moaned, easing her legs apart, welcoming Shauna's tongue between her folds. Her entire body shook, chopping her breaths between chattering teeth. Shauna probed a little deeper. Sachiko doubled over, humping Shauna's mouth. Shauna yipped with delight. She shook her head side to side, slathering Sachiko's light sweet syrup over her cheeks and chin. She dug her nails into the brunette's ass, spreading her cheeks and kneading the meat. Sachiko mauled her own breasts, stretching and twisting the characters on her shirt into impossible shapes. Buffeted by Sachiko's gyrations Shauna wobbled on the balls of her feet. It was all she could do to hold on for the ride and she found herself failing at that. Toppling to her butt she roped an arm around Sachiko's neck and pulled her ear to her dripping lips. “Sit on my face,” she hissed. Sachiko fell to her knees, straddling Shauna's chest and pinning her to the floor. On all fours she scooched forward over the blonde's shoulders until her succulent snatch hovered over her RA's gaping mouth. Shauna's tongue darted out, flicking Sachiko's swollen clit. Stifling a scream Sachiko collapsed on Shauna's kisser, squeezing her ears between her thighs and swirling her pussy over her lips. Shauna lost herself in Sachiko. Inhaling her essence. Drinking her qi. She thrilled at her lover's responses – involuntary, honest and pure. There was no pretention. Only the passion of an inexperienced girl wholly submitting to her desires. She reveled in it, lapping at Sachiko's sex from the hood of her clit to the crease of her ass. Sachiko's back arched, thrusting out her chest. Her head lolled back, eyes strafing the ceiling. She squirmed on Shauna's face, blissfully ignorant of her weight, Shauna's nose, or her need to breathe. She reached back between the Shauna's splayed legs, probing under her dress until her fingers found the blonde's honeypot and slithered inside. Strangling Sachiko's wrist in her thighs Shauna groaned into her pussy. The vibrations spurred Sachiko's building orgasm, winding her body tighter and tighter, pushing her fingers faster, deeper. The circuit closed, the feedback loop complete. Every flip of the tongue, every curl of a digit, amplified the next. Sachiko bucked and thrashed. Shauna swirled and writhed. Again and again they traded blows until suddenly Sachiko fell silent, her body rigid, muscles strained. Clutching fistfuls of Shauna's hair Sachiko spread her knees and bore down, smashing her quaking pussy into Shauna's lips and gushing slippery, viscous cum all over her face. Racked with spasms she hunched over Shauna's head, wave after crashing wave of orgasm pummeling her sex. 9:38 am When the contractions finally slowed, Shauna worked her hands up to Sachiko's buttocks and nudged her. Spent, Sachiko rolled away, settling on her back against the foot of the bed. Shauna's chest heaved, gulping the cool dry air. Her eyes re-adjusted to the light. Reaching up she brushed the hat off her head and raked her fingers through moist matted hair. Arms flopping to the floor she sighed. That went well. She rolled her head and looked at Sachiko. The junior lay knees up, feet flat on the floor, her arms draped between her legs – the odd twitch in her muscles interrupting her stillness. Shauna willed herself up and crawled over. Finding her eyes shut she pressed in close and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. Sachiko smiled. “Merry Christmas,” Shauna whispered. Sachiko nodded, radiant from her orgasm. Shauna stroked her ear. “If you want me to model for you sometime,” she added, “give me a call.” She gathered her things and prepared to leave. As she passed the mirror on the closet door she stopped to look. Her face and neck glistened, glazed with Sachiko's juices. She tossed the hat in her hand, raising it to wipe herself clean. But she didn't. She decided instead she liked the way it looked. And she'd wear it a little longer. Pursing her lips, she slipped out of Sachiko's room. Light as a feather she skipped down the hall toward her room. She slowed passing Javon's door, wondering if he was already asleep. Her phone chimed in the bag, interrupting her curiosity. Retrieving it she scanned the screen and frowned. Two texts and a missed call. All from her brother. “Hey Josh,” she answered. “Yo, where the hell have you been?” There was an urgency in his tone. “I've been calling you. I'm out front, let's go!” She frowned. “Wait, what time is it?” “Quarter to ten. I told you I'd be here at 9:30, remember?” She thought for a minute, then rolled her eyes, realizing what went wrong. “Fuck,” she spat. “I thought you meant 9:30 your time.” “So you're not ready?” “No, I packed last night. I'll be right down.” Hanging up she shook her head. How did she make that mistake? She thought she'd have an hour to shower and clean up, but now they were running late. No time for any of that. Swiping the key card from her sock she popped into her room and tossed the gift bag on the bed. Snagging her backpack and navy peacoat from the closet she dashed back out headed for the lobby. 9:52 am Shauna flung open the passenger door of the coupe and tumbled inside, stuffing the backpack between her feet as she settled in the seat. Her teeth chattered from their brief exposure to the cold. Rubbing her hands together near the warm air vent she looked over at her brother behind the wheel. He stared at her, forehead crinkled, a mix of confusion and amusement scrawled across his lips. “What,” she said, staring back. He glanced down at her bare thighs – the coat just covering her lap – then back at her scowl. “Nice touch,” he replied, pointing to the bright red pileus cap. “Thanks,” she quipped, flashing a smile. “But you know it's snowing, right?” She flipped him the bird. He shrugged. “You're going to get Uncle Leo in trouble today.” Shauna tried to stifle her laugh. “Just drive Josh.” He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. “Unlike you,” he said, “I got an early start. So I'm going to get some coffee. Did you eat already?” “Yup,” she nodded. “Several times.” Josh's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. At the next light he made a left and turned into the coffee shop drive-thru. Waiting in line behind a pick-up he turned to his sister. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look a little…weird.” Shauna checked herself in the side mirror. She could taste Ty's spunk on her tongue; feel Javon's cum in her ass and Sachiko's pussy all over her face. A shiver buzzed her clit. She reclined the seat several notches and sighed, beaming at the ceiling. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I'm just…filled with Christmas spirit.” Quietly she shoved her hands beneath her legs to keep from touching herself for the remainder of the trip. By TheSleepingKing for Literotica

‘Tis the season for giving. By TheSleepingKing. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. 7:16 am The door from the bathroom swung open, spilling steam into the dim blue rays of light sneaking in through the blinds. Wrapped in a towel, Shauna strode into her dorm room, feet sinking into the carpet as she padded across the floor. Pausing at the window she pulled the cord to raise the blinds, bathing the room in the soft glow of an overcast Michigan dawn. A dusting of snow covered the glazing. About an inch drifted on the ledge outside. Beyond and several stories down a lone figure rounded onto the back straight of the athletic track. Shauna leaned in, her breath fogging the glass. She poked two dots and underlined them with a curve. Smiled at the new face smiling back at her. It was a beautiful Christmas Eve morning.She unhooked the towel and tossed it over the back of the chair parked under the desk. The cool air plucked at her nipples and sapped the heat from her skin. She skimmed her hands around the bulge of her breasts, across her taut tummy and the arc of her ass. Appraising her profile in the mirror she nodded. Spin class and yoga really paid off this year. From the top drawer of the dresser, she picked out white lace panties and drew them up over toned, creamy thighs. She paired them with red and white argyle knee socks and a soft strapless bra. Sifting through the hangers in the closet she settled on a flirty red A-line dress with wide shoulder straps and a length about mid-thigh. Not practical for the weather. But perfect for the mission. 7:32 am She capped the outfit with a fuzzy Santa hat and white-soled black Keds before returning to the mirror. She turned side to side and took a twirl, the dress flaring out before settling over her legs. Certainly the sexiest elf she'd ever seen. She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. She would need to get going soon to make her deliveries. The schedule was tight. On any other Christmas Eve she'd still be asleep; tucked in tight and dead to the world in a quiet corner of her parents' six-bedroom McMansion in Traverse City. She'd get up around 10:00, meet her brother for lunch, then spend the afternoon serving food at a shelter across town before heading home for the traditional Christmas Eve dinner with her family. This year, dinner had been moved up to lunch – something about grandma and grandpa's flights. So volunteering was out. She was fine with it at first. But as the season ramped up and the holiday spirit infected her, she felt the need to replace it with something. Some way to give back. To spread a little cheer to those less fortunate this time of year. As 3rd floor RA for the co-ed dorm, she was privy to certain information. The administration realized not every student could make it home for the holidays. So the school remained open in a limited capacity, depending on the holiday and how many students remained behind. This year on her floor there were three. And since they were stuck there maybe she could celebrate with them before she left. She snatched a small white drawstring bag off her bed and slung it over her shoulder, the contents momentarily rustling about inside. Taking her key card from the dresser she slipped it into her bra and reached for the door. She paused, re-thinking, the lever rocking under her palm. Quickly, she picked it out and tucked it neatly into the back of a sock instead, before ducking out into the hall. 7:40 am Shauna stopped at Room 303. She gave her usual rata-tat-tat RA knock and shrugged the bag off her shoulder, holding the strap in the crook of her elbow. The corridor was weirdly quiet. No music or raucous conversation bleeding through the walls. She couldn't imagine having to spend the next week here under these conditions. A latch clicked in front of her, and the door creaked open. “Hey Ty,” she chirped, “Merry Christmas!” Ty seemed surprised by the greeting, then confused by her presence. He smiled. “Um…thanks. Merry Christmas to you too.” His eyes dipped – first to her cleavage, then to her legs – before rebounding to hers. He now seemed nervous too. “Can I come in for a minute?” “Uh…yeah, sure.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats he stepped aside. She glided past, her blonde curls swishing about her shoulders. Ty gently shut the door behind her. Shauna glanced around the suite. Open textbooks were strewn across the couch. Graph paper filled with notes littered the desk. The three computer monitors that typically flickered video games, now hosted row upon row of complex equations she didn't understand. Ambient techno pulsed softly through a pair of small speakers, and the room smelled faintly of Axe body spray. “I'm sorry,” he offered, “I wasn't expecting anyone today.” He was a freshman, so she'd only known him one semester. But he seemed like a good kid. Sure, he was disheveled, nerdy, and a little immature. But he was charming and considerate, and very bright – dedicated to keeping his name on the Dean's List. Didn't hurt that he was cute either. “That's okay,” she replied. “Santa knows it sucks having to be here over the holidays, so he got you a present.” She lowered the bag and reached inside, pulling out a deep green envelope with a silver star sticker sealing it shut. “Nothing big, just something to give you a break from…” she waved her arm toward the paper and monitors, “…this.” Cautiously he took the envelope, turning it over to find his name written neatly on the front. “Oh,” he said, “…thanks. That's…really nice.” A moment of awkward silence followed. “Go ahead,” Shauna prompted, “open it.” Ty shrugged. He peeled up the star and lifted the flap, extricating a Christmas card with a red-nosed Rudolph gracing the cover. He smiled as he opened it, eyes tracking back and forth across the page. Wedged in the crease was a white 3 by 5 note card. Flipping it right-side-up he discovered a sketch in black marker in the center. He froze, the smile fading, jaw dropped. He looked up at Shauna. Then back at the card. “Wait…,” he stammered, “is this…. Are you…. Is this for real?” Shauna raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Santa likes to make sure no one on the nice list gets left out.” Her gaze fell to his groin, dialing in on the growing bulge. There was the response she was hoping for. She hung the bag over the doorknob. Closing the distance between them she reached out and pinched the card in her fingers. “Why don't you get comfortable.” She set it on a textbook and slouched against the desk, waiting. Ty looked left, then right, unsure of what to do. Finally, he stepped back and eased himself down to the edge of his bed. Shauna placed her hands on his thighs, pushing them apart before kneeling between them. The tented fleece covering his crotch pointed directly at her. She smiled. Looked up. “You've done this before, right?” He paused a moment, then nodded vigorously. She wasn't convinced. But it didn't really matter. It might even help keep her on schedule. She gave him a shove, forcing him to recline and brace with his arms. Grabbing his sweats by the pockets she jerked at them until they pooled around his ankles. His cock sprang out, slapping his abdomen before swaying back to vertical. She wrapped it in her fingers, the whole head protruding from her fist. He puffed and shivered under her touch. Leaning forward she lowered her head. His body tensed. She raised her eyes to find his narrowed, his mouth rounded and dry. “Relax,” she cooed, “just enjoy it,” and slipped his dick between her lips. A breath rattled his chest. She felt the blanket cinch beneath them as his fingers gripped and pulled. First she teased the glans, undulating her tongue beneath, then around and over the top. His hips shot up to meet her mouth. She lightened her hold, welcoming him in deeper. She bobbed her head to the rhythm of the music – down on one and three, up on two and four. His cock was rock hard, curving into the roof of her mouth with each descent. He sighed, and groaned, and grunted; the tone and timbre of each growing more urgent with each passing minute. Shauna's free hand dove under her dress and between her legs, fingers plucking aside the damp lace and strumming the slick, smooth lips of her pussy. Her partners were usually more experienced. More restrained. It had been some time since one had responded with such virginal enthusiasm. And she found it to be quite the turn-on. She held her neck as steady as she could, relinquishing control of tempo and depth. Ty trembled, huffing air through gritted teeth. Shauna peeked to find his eyes closed, neck strained, deep blue veins pulsing through. Sensing the moment, her fingers left the base of his dick and curled around his balls. She tightened her lips to a gentle squeeze. Ty stalled. A guttural growl forced its way into the air. His eyes popped open wide and fixed on Shauna's. With a batting of lashes, she pushed down on his throbbing cock until the tip of her nose bumped his abdomen. A heartbeat later, torrents of warm, viscid cum spewed into her mouth. The jets struck the back of her palate, sloshing over her tonsils and sliding down her throat. She swallowed hard but couldn't keep up. Each burst seemed richer than the last, filling her cheeks and leaking from the corners of her mouth. Her own juices deluged her fingers in response; the squelching filling the gaps between Ty's staggered gasps. A dozen spurts later his orgasm subsided. Shauna held his cock a little longer, savoring its texture on her lips and the mild, distinct flavor of his seed. She moved with him as his hips sagged back to the mattress, sinking him deeper to the root of his erection. After one final gulp she sucked in her cheeks and lifted her head, teasing the remaining fluids from the head of his dick. He gawked at her, speechless. She pulled her fingers from her pussy and held them up in front of her. They gleamed in the light, strands of grool clinging to her knuckles as she separated them. Fixing on him she sucked each finger into her mouth, swabbing them clean before licking her lips. Ty's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed flat on the bed. Shauna giggled. Pushing off she rocked to her feet. She looked at him spread over the rumpled blanket, his penis twitching on his tummy. She nodded, pleased with herself. Sweeping her hair out of her face she took the gift sack from the doorknob and the note card from the desk, slipping the latter into the former. “Did you enjoy your present?” she asked, slinging the bag over her shoulder. Ty groaned a sigh, his satisfaction evident. A smile lit Shauna's lips. “Good,” she said, “that's great.” She made her way back to the door. “You know, Santa can't offer gifts like this to everyone, so…let's keep this between us, okay?” An arm raised and a hand approximated a wave before tumbling limp to the mattress. She took it as a yes. Catching her reflection in the window she adjusted her hat. “Merry Christmas Ty,” she said softly, before disappearing into the corridor. 8:05 am Snowflakes drifted past the tall narrow windows of the student lounge separating the north and south wings of the third floor. Curled up at the far end of the couch opposite the ping pong table, Shauna twisted the cap off a bottle of diet soda and took a sip. Pulling her phone from the bag she checked the time. Javon would arrive in fifteen minutes. Plenty of time to finish her drink. She stretched out across the cushions and downed another swig. This one excited her more than the others. She and Javon were casually acquainted. Though both juniors they rarely shared classes. But they saw each other often around campus; playing pool in the lounge, grabbing coffee at Starks, or stocking up on dollar tacos Tuesday nights at Frankie's. And always, always flirting. Nothing ever came of it, unfortunately. He was putting himself through school and the scholarships just weren't enough. So he needed to work a lot. Every chance he got he'd bank some overtime or pick up an extra shift. That didn't leave much time for anything else. But today was Christmas Eve. The print shop would be closed tomorrow, so he couldn't go in tonight. Which she hoped would free up just enough time for what she had in store. A door closed in the distance, followed by footsteps in the hallway behind her. She checked her phone. He was early. She chugged another mouthful of soda, then quietly stuffed everything into the bag. The footsteps halted. A latch turned and a door opened, then closed. She counted to thirty, then slid off the couch and left the lounge, rounding the corner toward 317. 8:08 am Shauna waited, impatiently, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Still no response. She knocked again, harder this time. Shuffling noises, then heavy footfalls. The door swung open on a scowling Javon, his uniform shirt crumpled in his fist, muscles chiseled and taut. She smiled up at him, head cocked to the side. He looked her over, his mood softening as he recognized who she was. “Hey,” he said, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing here?” She shrugged, ignoring the twinge in her pussy. “Waiting to see you. Can I come in?” Javon retreated inside, tossing his shirt on the bed and perching on the edge of his dresser. Shauna followed, taking quick stock of the room. Clean and sparse. Suitable for someone who spent very little time there. She turned her attention to him. Tall and dark, with bold, crisp features. His hands splotched with cyan and yellow ink from the press. “Is um…is this a bad time?” “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I was just going to take a shower, then go down for a nap.” He waved a hand in her direction. “Soooo, who are you supposed to be?” “I'm a Christmas elf,” she replied. “Santa's Helper.” Javon's eyes widened. “Oh. You're a lot taller than I would have expected of an elf.” “Well, we're not all size challenged artisans baking cookies in the off-season you know. Some of us are taller, and educated, and…really cute.” He laughed, his pecs jumping. “That's fair. Please forgive my ignorance of the elf community. I don't know any – aside from you.” She shrugged the bag off her shoulder and reached inside, crossing the carpet between them. “Listen, she began, “Santa knows how hard you work to be here, and how much that keeps you from having a life. So, he got you a little gift. It won't make up for having to be here over the holidays, but it might help take the edge off?” She pulled out a red envelope and handed it to him. He stared at it, his face cycling through several emotions, settling on confused. “Thanks,” he said, “that's…really sweet. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything.” Shauna smiled to herself, setting the bag on the floor. “Open it.” She wandered past him to the window. Raising the blinds she took a quick peek outside before turning and sliding up onto his desk, swinging her feet freely beneath. Javon zipped a finger under the flap and extracted the card; a red-nosed Rudolph printed on the cover. As he shook it open a white note card fluttered out. He snatched it out of the air and held it up. A sketch in black marker graced the white space. Shauna watched over his shoulder as he stared at the figures suggested by the swooping lines. He fanned the card, then turned and eased off his seat. He walked over to her, holding it up, the image upside down. His mouth curled in one corner. “This is uhhh…you and me?” She squinted at the picture. “Well…right-side up and all, but…sure.” She took it from him and snapped it on the desk. Her arms extended, fingers wedging themselves between the waist of his jeans and the warm, smooth skin of his abdomen. She reeled him in between her legs, squeezing them in hers. “Come on,” she said, thumbs separating the button and peeling the zipper. “Take a break.” Javon reached out, tracing the curl of her ear with his finger. Tilting his head, he leaned in for a kiss. Shauna planted a hand in the center of his chest, stopping his lips a hair's breadth from hers. His heartbeat pulsed through her arm and gut, thumping through her clit like a kick drum. She tapped a finger on the card beside her. He glanced down. Then back at her. She smiled. Pushed him away. She hopped off the desk, lowering her eyes to the height of his fly. Waiting. Javon nodded. In a single swoop he shoved his jeans to the floor and stepped out. The outline of his cock bulged the breathable fabric of his boxer briefs, curving down his right leg. A squeak left Shauna's throat. She reached inside and fished it out, needing both hands to hoist the shaft. It hardened in her grip, rising, reaching for its target. She pulled a few long strokes, its heat warming her hands. She had imagined what he might be hiding. But none of those dreams fell short of reality. Reluctantly she let go. Eyes fixed on her prize she slowly turned round, bending over the desk. She shuffled her feet a shoulder's width apart and casually wiggled her ass. Javon stepped up, his demeanor all business. Stroking his meat with one hand he grabbed the hem of her dress in the other and flipped it up over her butt. Her firm white cheeks glowed in the morning light. He took the waistband of her panties and rolled them down her hips and thighs, abandoning them around her calves and exposing her labia to the chill of the room. She was sopping wet. He swiped his penis along her slit, greasing it with her cream. Current bolted up her spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She threw her ass toward him, anxious to be filled. But he took his time, lubing every inch to a slippery shine. Finally satisfied, he set a palm in the small of her back and wedged the tip of his cock between her folds. Slow and steady, he sank into her vagina. Shauna gasped, eyes round. Her knees buckled, fingertips clawing at the laminate as her canal expanded to accommodate the intruder. It was thicker than any dick or dildo she remembered. And she was suddenly grateful he'd been so careful to slicken up. He took shallow, steady thrusts, loosening her vice a touch each time. Short, silent breaths gave way to grunts and groans. She tried to restrain herself in case anyone still left was walking the halls. But it was a losing battle. The pressure coiling inside would soon be too much to contain. Javon curled over her. Reaching into her dress he freed her breasts from their padded sling and cupped one in each hand. He pinched her nipples between strong fingers, yoking her tits to her clit with little bolts of lightning. The heat of the moment telegraphed through her skin, flushing her ears, cheeks, and chest a robust, rosy pink. He pushed on, diving deeper into her velvet pouch. Her arms burning, Shauna lowered her elbows and forehead to the desk. Her hair shrouded her periphery, leaving the only clear view that of her lover's balls swaying back and forth between her thighs. A delightful fog rolled over her brain, occluding everything outside the aura of their bodies. “Do you want it all,” Javon whispered, his voice piercing the veil. Shauna turned her head, mouth agape. “That's not all of it?” A baritone chuckle rumbled from his chest. He straightened up, releasing her boobs for a firm hold of her waist. He eased down the throttle, slowing his rhythm. Measuring the distance. She caught his eyes for a moment, glimpsing the same lechery she felt coursing through her veins. He smiled at her. Then hilted his cock in her pussy. “Uhhh gawd.” A wave of pleasure rippled out from her core, breaking over her entire body. She couldn't gauge how big he was, but he was now twice as deep as he had been seconds ago. He gave her a moment and a few shallow dips before ramping up the pace; drawing his dick out to the barb each time before plunging back in. Shauna's ass rippled, limbs shuddering under each impact. She stretched her arms to brace herself. But her hands squeaked against the desk each time he crashed into her, jolting her forward. She began to lose control. Her pelvic muscles clenched; labia stretching around his shaft. He growled his approval. A stern smack stung her left buttock, forcing a squeal from her larynx and a shock to her sex. Another followed, echoing off the walls into her ears. Her strength failed, drooping her back and turning her legs to jelly. Javon grabbed hold of one and lifted it, bending the knee and setting it securely on the desktop. He continued to hammer away. The cords binding her orgasm began to fray. She imagined his view from behind; her sodden pink snatch vulgarly splayed for the massive dark rod plowing her gut. Words escaped her, leaving only screams and moans to communicate her desire. 8:42 am Shauna's head was swimming, her brain just mush. But she held on, wanting this ecstasy to last forever. Her hat flew off her head, landing silently on the windowsill. Long fingers raked through her hair. They gathered her curls into his fist and pulled. Her head snapped back, jaw dropped, eyelids fluttering. The cords snapped and the coil exploded. She bore down on his dick, silent and stiff, her body racked with orgasm. Her toes dug into the carpet, her raised foot flopping about over the edge of the desk. She slapped the top with her hands, translating her contractions into a frantic rhythm beat out for Javon to hear. Her juices flowed freely, seeping out past his cock and dribbling down her thighs. And through all this, he continued to fuck her. Shauna's orgasm continued in suspended animation, tweaking her muscles and prickling her skin. As snug as he fit there was now no friction. He glided in and out like a piston in a well-oiled machine. He pumped harder, faster, working to create resistance. But her pussy was a flooded mess and that wasn't going to change. He whispered something toward her ear. A question? She couldn't decipher the words. But it didn't matter. As long as he kept filling her, perpetuating this feeling, he could do whatever he wanted. She nodded as best she could. The pounding slowed and the hand holding her waist released. The slapping of skin ceased, and his penis slipped out of her vagina. The emptiness was deflating, like the air had been sucked from her lungs. She turned to look but he stopped her, pushing her head back down to the desk. She opened her mouth to demand he continue and that's when she felt it. The pressure on the dip of her anus. Her insides knotted up. Everything clenched, then released. Her rosebud relaxed, and Javon's cock surged up her ass. She held her breath, expecting pain. But there was none. Only an indescribable fullness she had never experienced before. Each time he retracted her stomach dropped. Each plunge threatened to split her at the seams. Orgasm ripped through her again, rattling her bones and sweating from every pore. The room closed in, swaddling her in a thick black heat. She screamed but heard nothing. Felt only his cock. His fingers curled over her shoulders and around her neck. He pushed and pulled her with new urgency, opposing the swing of his hips. He'd found the resistance he was seeking, and it drove him on toward ferocious climax. In her stupor, Shauna somehow regained control of her limbs. She twisted an arm behind her back and flailed at his. When he looked down, wanton lust blazing in his eyes, she willed words from her lips. “Cum in me,” she cried, breathless, desperate for his load. “Cum in my ass.” He glared at her, neck craned, jaw set. He shifted his weight, pinning her tits to the desk and raising her butt. He tried to hold out a bit longer. But she was too tight and he was too far gone. Nodding his head Javon closed his eyes and buried his throbbing cock balls deep, erupting hot semen deep in her bowels. He roared in release, his balls smashed against her pussy, rocking into the curve of her ass. The pressure lifted her foot from the floor, grinding her hip into the edge of the desktop. But she didn't care. His cum splattered inside her, capping her climax with a warm, gooey buzz. Her buttocks quaked with each spasm. She had his cock. All of it. In the moment, that was everything. 9:04 am Gradually the pumping slowed. The pressure on her back eased and the room drifted back into focus. She glimpsed herself in a mirror near the window; hair disheveled, bare breasts smushed beneath the cockled red fabric; a trembling leg coiled on the desk, panties dangling casually from her ankle. “You are so fuckin' hot,” said the voice in her ear. She cooed, not yet able to formulate words. He rested in her a moment longer, sharing her warmth. When they'd finally caught their breath Javon stood tall. Kneading his hands into the meat of her cheeks he pushed himself back, emerging from her ass with an obscene wet slurp. Empty, Shauna sighed, the void disappointing. Her rosebud gaped, then winked several times before shrinking back into place. Javon slumped against the wall near the window. Fumbling with the latch he cracked it open. December rushed in, swirling round their bodies and raising goosebumps on their skin. Shauna shivered, invigorated, the cold soothing her scalded sex. Watching her lover she smeared her cream over her pussy and along the crack of her ass. His organ flexed toward her, but Javon shook his head. Smiling, she wriggled off the desk. On wobbly legs she gathered the note card and the bag and set them on the edge of the bed. Rummaging around in the neck of her dress she tucked her tits back into her bra and plumped them into position. Javon sauntered over, her hat in one hand, soggy panties in the other. She took the cap and fit it over her head. “Can't put those back on,” she said of her underwear. “You keep them.” He nodded, draping them over the corner of the television. She shouldered the bag and looked up at him. “Did Santa get you what you wanted?” He laughed. She followed his eyes down to his semi-hard, polished rod. “I think he fucking crushed it,” he replied. Closing the gap between them he lowered his voice. “Tell me something though. Is this strictly a Christmas situation, or…are…special occasions not required.” Shauna shrugged, the corners of her mouth curling up. “Why don't you come by sometime and find out,” she offered. “You know where I live.” She gave his penis a playful nip and tug and backed out into the hallway. 9:13 am Shauna stood quietly outside Room 334, gently swaying to a tune in her head. Her fingertips tingled and her pussy hummed along to the beat, still riding the high of the last half-hour. A trickle of semen stained her inner thigh, the remainder of Javon's deposit still trapped inside. She smoothed the front of her dress and flipped the pom of the hat to the side. She was a few minutes behind schedule. But that shouldn't be critical here. Ready for more, she knocked on the door. There was a rustling inside. A few moments later the door opened on a beautiful raven-haired Japanese girl in a tight anime tee shirt and bright blue boyshorts. Seemingly surprised, the girl dropped the pencil she held in her left hand. “Hey Sachiko,” Shauna chirped. Sachiko ripped off her headphones and flashed a nervous smile. Shauna nodded inside. “Can I come in for a minute?” Sachiko glanced over at something Shauna couldn't see, then backed her slender frame away from the door. Shauna strode inside, the latch clicking shut behind her. Unlike her first two stops, this was a bit of a gamble. Their contact had been minimal, generally restricted to her RA duties. And her scouting report was incomplete. She knew Sachiko was a sophomore, and a graphic design major. She spent summers at home in Osaka. But she couldn't afford to fly back and forth for breaks, so she usually spent them on campus. Rumor was she was into women. Of this Shauna had no confirmation. But from their interactions in the dorm and Sachiko's shyness and fluster around particular friends she did have a feeling. It was risky. But that heightened the thrill. The room was warm and cozy, lit by a floor lamp and a cube on the nightstand. Fuzzy orange pillows adorned the loveseat below the window. Incense burned in a jade tray on the corner of the dresser and a thick down comforter covered the bed. Several sketchpads scattered across the desk, a collection of porcelain cats lining the shelf above. It was clearly the space of someone needing a touch of home. “Am I like…in trouble…or something?” Sachiko wondered. “No,” Shauna laughed, amused as much by her apparent discomfort as the absurdity of the question. “I mean, have you ever been in trouble? I just wanted to wish you Happy Holidays.” Sachiko blushed. Her face made several contortions before settling on a half nod and awkward smile. “Th…thank you,” she stammered. Shauna pinched her lips between her teeth. So far so good. “I like your kitties,” Shauna continued, drifting toward the shelf. She scanned for messages, photos, anything that might give her a clue. “My sister sends me a new one for my birthday every year,” Sachiko offered. “They're beautiful.” She spotted a sheet of paper with dark smudges sticking out of the pad on top of the pile. “What's this?” she asked, reaching for it. “What? Oh!” Sachiko leapt toward her, mortified. “It's nothing, I just – ” Before she could swipe the pad Shauna had the page, staring at a gorgeous unfinished graphite sketch of a sleeping woman. She lay on her side, head on a pillow, hands underneath. Bikini panties cloaked her nethers, an arm crossed her bare breasts. And her face. Well…. Her face was very familiar. Shauna smiled to herself. This might work after all. Sachiko slunk back as Shauna turned around. She studied the drawing a moment longer, impressed by the resemblance. Finally, she looked up at Sachiko. The rosy hue of her cheeks crept into her face and neck. Shauna noticed for the first time she wasn't wearing a bra. “Did you draw this?” Sachiko sighed, looking everywhere forward. “I um…. It…it's for a class.” “You did it from memory.” She rubbed her arms with her hands. “Yeah. It just…works that way.” “It's amazing.” Shauna returned the drawing to the desk. Sluffing off the bag she retrieved the final card. “I know you don't really celebrate Christmas,” she said, “but it can't be easy being here by yourself while everyone else is. So, I got you a gift.” The silver envelope rested in her palm while Sachiko hesitated, her name glittering in gold marker. She looked up, embarrassment clouding her eyes. Shauna smiled, extending her hand. Finally, Sachiko accepted. She zipped open the flap and removed the card. A red-nosed Rudolph blinked at her from the cover. Shauna dropped the bag on the loveseat. She clasped her hands behind her back and crossed her legs at the ankles, a flirty little swivel seizing her hips. Sachiko picked the note card from the fold and looked closely. Her fingers began to tremble. Shauna sidled up closer, tucking a lock of Sachiko's hair behind her ear. Sachiko jumped at the light touch. But her gaze remained fixed on the card. Her lips parted. No sound escaped. “If you want me to stop,” Shauna murmured, “just let me know.” She kissed Sachiko's ear lobe, rolling it between her lips before drifting to her cheek and the nape of her neck. Sachiko's tremor spread to her chest. The cards fell from her grasp. Shauna continued down, over her shoulders to the swell of her breasts. She caressed one in each palm, grazing the nipples with the soft cotton of the shirt. Sachiko tangled her fingers in Shauna's hair. They curled and flexed as Shauna descended, raising her shirt and kissing her navel. She lingered there, circling, lips skimming Sachiko's butter-smooth, unblemished skin. She smelled of cherry blossom and jasmine. Shauna filled her head with the scent, priming her for the peach she was about to unwrap. Sachiko's hushed whisper floated down from above. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.” Sinking to her haunches Shauna eyed Sachiko's sex. A small wet spot darkened the fabric between her legs. Shauna peeled the underwear down over Sachiko's ass and thighs, pooling them around her feet. Exposed to the low light was a plump, tidy pussy, closely cropped dark pubic hair gracing her mound. Shauna's lips quivered. She bowed, pressing her face between Sachiko's thighs, sopping up the heat. Sachiko moaned, easing her legs apart, welcoming Shauna's tongue between her folds. Her entire body shook, chopping her breaths between chattering teeth. Shauna probed a little deeper. Sachiko doubled over, humping Shauna's mouth. Shauna yipped with delight. She shook her head side to side, slathering Sachiko's light sweet syrup over her cheeks and chin. She dug her nails into the brunette's ass, spreading her cheeks and kneading the meat. Sachiko mauled her own breasts, stretching and twisting the characters on her shirt into impossible shapes. Buffeted by Sachiko's gyrations Shauna wobbled on the balls of her feet. It was all she could do to hold on for the ride and she found herself failing at that. Toppling to her butt she roped an arm around Sachiko's neck and pulled her ear to her dripping lips. “Sit on my face,” she hissed. Sachiko fell to her knees, straddling Shauna's chest and pinning her to the floor. On all fours she scooched forward over the blonde's shoulders until her succulent snatch hovered over her RA's gaping mouth. Shauna's tongue darted out, flicking Sachiko's swollen clit. Stifling a scream Sachiko collapsed on Shauna's kisser, squeezing her ears between her thighs and swirling her pussy over her lips. Shauna lost herself in Sachiko. Inhaling her essence. Drinking her qi. She thrilled at her lover's responses – involuntary, honest and pure. There was no pretention. Only the passion of an inexperienced girl wholly submitting to her desires. She reveled in it, lapping at Sachiko's sex from the hood of her clit to the crease of her ass. Sachiko's back arched, thrusting out her chest. Her head lolled back, eyes strafing the ceiling. She squirmed on Shauna's face, blissfully ignorant of her weight, Shauna's nose, or her need to breathe. She reached back between the Shauna's splayed legs, probing under her dress until her fingers found the blonde's honeypot and slithered inside. Strangling Sachiko's wrist in her thighs Shauna groaned into her pussy. The vibrations spurred Sachiko's building orgasm, winding her body tighter and tighter, pushing her fingers faster, deeper. The circuit closed, the feedback loop complete. Every flip of the tongue, every curl of a digit, amplified the next. Sachiko bucked and thrashed. Shauna swirled and writhed. Again and again they traded blows until suddenly Sachiko fell silent, her body rigid, muscles strained. Clutching fistfuls of Shauna's hair Sachiko spread her knees and bore down, smashing her quaking pussy into Shauna's lips and gushing slippery, viscous cum all over her face. Racked with spasms she hunched over Shauna's head, wave after crashing wave of orgasm pummeling her sex. 9:38 am When the contractions finally slowed, Shauna worked her hands up to Sachiko's buttocks and nudged her. Spent, Sachiko rolled away, settling on her back against the foot of the bed. Shauna's chest heaved, gulping the cool dry air. Her eyes re-adjusted to the light. Reaching up she brushed the hat off her head and raked her fingers through moist matted hair. Arms flopping to the floor she sighed. That went well. She rolled her head and looked at Sachiko. The junior lay knees up, feet flat on the floor, her arms draped between her legs – the odd twitch in her muscles interrupting her stillness. Shauna willed herself up and crawled over. Finding her eyes shut she pressed in close and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. Sachiko smiled. “Merry Christmas,” Shauna whispered. Sachiko nodded, radiant from her orgasm. Shauna stroked her ear. “If you want me to model for you sometime,” she added, “give me a call.” She gathered her things and prepared to leave. As she passed the mirror on the closet door she stopped to look. Her face and neck glistened, glazed with Sachiko's juices. She tossed the hat in her hand, raising it to wipe herself clean. But she didn't. She decided instead she liked the way it looked. And she'd wear it a little longer. Pursing her lips, she slipped out of Sachiko's room. Light as a feather she skipped down the hall toward her room. She slowed passing Javon's door, wondering if he was already asleep. Her phone chimed in the bag, interrupting her curiosity. Retrieving it she scanned the screen and frowned. Two texts and a missed call. All from her brother. “Hey Josh,” she answered. “Yo, where the hell have you been?” There was an urgency in his tone. “I've been calling you. I'm out front, let's go!” She frowned. “Wait, what time is it?” “Quarter to ten. I told you I'd be here at 9:30, remember?” She thought for a minute, then rolled her eyes, realizing what went wrong. “Fuck,” she spat. “I thought you meant 9:30 your time.” “So you're not ready?” “No, I packed last night. I'll be right down.” Hanging up she shook her head. How did she make that mistake? She thought she'd have an hour to shower and clean up, but now they were running late. No time for any of that. Swiping the key card from her sock she popped into her room and tossed the gift bag on the bed. Snagging her backpack and navy peacoat from the closet she dashed back out headed for the lobby. 9:52 am Shauna flung open the passenger door of the coupe and tumbled inside, stuffing the backpack between her feet as she settled in the seat. Her teeth chattered from their brief exposure to the cold. Rubbing her hands together near the warm air vent she looked over at her brother behind the wheel. He stared at her, forehead crinkled, a mix of confusion and amusement scrawled across his lips. “What,” she said, staring back. He glanced down at her bare thighs – the coat just covering her lap – then back at her scowl. “Nice touch,” he replied, pointing to the bright red pileus cap. “Thanks,” she quipped, flashing a smile. “But you know it's snowing, right?” She flipped him the bird. He shrugged. “You're going to get Uncle Leo in trouble today.” Shauna tried to stifle her laugh. “Just drive Josh.” He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. “Unlike you,” he said, “I got an early start. So I'm going to get some coffee. Did you eat already?” “Yup,” she nodded. “Several times.” Josh's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. At the next light he made a left and turned into the coffee shop drive-thru. Waiting in line behind a pick-up he turned to his sister. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look a little…weird.” Shauna checked herself in the side mirror. She could taste Ty's spunk on her tongue; feel Javon's cum in her ass and Sachiko's pussy all over her face. A shiver buzzed her clit. She reclined the seat several notches and sighed, beaming at the ceiling. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I'm just…filled with Christmas spirit.” Quietly she shoved her hands beneath her legs to keep from touching herself for the remainder of the trip. By TheSleepingKing for Literotica

TITUS Come, now— As the king does sit upon my throne, Though not a King myself as I, Still cherished among men and many Who are in thine favor, As you seek truth to bear, my King And not your but also yours, Does partake thy bethrotjen nature, To swallow whole a seed a assumption as To vanish by trace, The rather and tide to bond, For truth you seek, And truth I bear, As fruit does grow, By force of not God, But nature, And to thine, the faring way The truth does seek you, too Thus, my God and Queen— But also King, Ruler never captured And gained wisdom by time, Which— None does have, but thyself. And now, Titus. To know,node bearing fruit are I And bearing truth shall you, A lesson gathered, as you as one And I as other— under the assumption of Love What is love? God, this is a sausage feat in here. Let's get some women in this bitch. Oh, there are women— They just don't speak much— Especially in this series Ascension. Because they're perfect. Archaic is this, A truce for the truth I seek. A wage for the war I've bargeouned. Listen now. You tell me. I tell you all that I know, For nothing now, And in nothing's sake, The shared alter. I, too, you. And you to I— Have we parted but some to forge But others? No others remain. And still I gather. With flower. And grow thy seed. The fruit, or truth? No difference. A tree, I am born. To wake. A shadow in the summer's night where autumn azure sun does beem, The wicked truth you lie to pardon Stands in its own awakening; Shallow moon tide's at dawn, And so, you kind folk of Kingdom there And Kingdom come, The truth is said as this, The seed the fruit— The love was born in ritual, And only then, The dance was made, For the song to have been sung as such. Dear Queen, my heart. For never better none has taken guilt in wavering the time has come; Never now but always forward And never there but always bound, To love itself, And so I am. Again. Trust me. I have. The King is slain. —but also lives. As haunted and as haunting no doubt, But to gain is this, my trust And in your waiver— the vow My honor, and sacntity so. The swine. Not of this realm, but others seek. And in this realm and others so The truth of fruit shall parish, Ignored and never eaten Never to have grown from seed, And then, of course, No tree shall I shadow In midnight summer's truth, The blue azure light, Of seeking sun, Soon to align, By midnight dawn, And waking tide— The moon you say. A sworn disaster. And so, I pray. All's fair. And you. [TITUS with a heavy heart exits the corridor.] {Enter The Multiverse} The Strine Force Five assembles in the basement before supper is called SETH, a peckish boy, almost goilish looking, maybe 11 or so steals cookies from OLIVER, who might be about 9, who speaks with a heavy and very proper English accent— Stop stealing my biscuits! Why bring them if you're not going to share? I did share. You lot had the box! You know these are cookies, right? They're my special biscuits. UPSTAIRS, MOM and DAD, very much the classic stereotypical suburban and American everywoman and Everyman prepare for supper. DAD, who resembles almost too much the LATE JOHNNY CARSON, peers into his newspaper conspicuously— Who does mom resemble? Let me — LATER, at the DINNER TABLE. Boys, Say hello to your uncle Steve. [The man heavily resembles Steve Allen] OLIVER Hello, Uncle Steve! UNCLE STEVE …I'm not your uncle. LIL JIMMY (Mumbling) I don't like uncle Steve… BIG JIMMY elbows him. Hard. LIL JIMMY Ow! BIG JIMMY smacks him upside the head, however without harming his very neatly done swooping hair. LIL JIMMY Where's uncle Jack? UNCLE STEVE He's on his way. DAD (Grumbles) …always late. LIL JIMMY (also grumbling, almost mimicking) —that's what I'm saying. BIG JIMMY shoves LIL JIMMY into his seat Also meanwhile, in another alternate dimension. So you're real name is JIMMY WANG. I fucking guess. That's nuts! —it's..:whatever. No, that's nuts— No, it's balls, homie, Your actual name is actually “Dick” twice. Hehehehe. Stop it. Did you have a middle name. No! Let me see. NO. Stop— let me— NO! [he grabs the birth certificate from Jimmy's grip] Let's see. —Jimmy— UGH, Oh, that's interesting, Jimmy and not James, how endearing—let's see— Jimmy—Ah, RICHARD— Wang. Oh my God. Your whole name is just— STOP IT. —it's just dicks. Just—penis words. Tripe dicks. AH! [nearly in tears, JIMMY runs to sulk into the washroom while his buddies continue making dick jokes; it's almost to much to bear—having learned so much about his true identity, most recently, that he was adopted at a very young age from a very nice Asian couple.] SUNNI BLU (Reading newspaper, breaking fourth wall) I told you he was Asian bro. SUDDENLY, Deadpool crashes through the door. SUNNI BLU tosses the super hot model in their lap across the room. YO. DEADPOOL. DEADPOOL YO. SUNNI BLU NOT COOL, BRO. DEADPOOL —what was your name again? SUNNI BLU Ya mutha! DEADPOOL NOT COOL. SUNNI BLU Whateva. {Enter The Multiverse} “Tools of the Trade” Welcome to Hollywood. Who are you? That's not important. It seems important. Now—lessonsz Ok. Tools of the trade: Uh huh. My dick. [he insinuates his crotch] Package. My dyke. [A very pretty lesbian appears out of nowhere.] Hello. My Dick Van Dyke. DICK VAN DYKE also appears out of nowhere. Woah, dude! Careful, he's priceless. I know dude. I can hear you, you know. I hear you too, Dick. Woah! How old are you, dude? Old! Get out of here; Go lay down; Take a nap! They said the gig was till 3. You're off early. Or late. [DICK VAN DYKE turns to leave.] I can still hear you. sweet yellow pinapple and coconut curry over brown rice and lentils sounded like a good Christmas Eve In— “Wait? It is Christmas Eve, isn't it?” I checked the date and time as my phone connected to the wifi. “Yep.” I concurred, slurping the last of the curry broth from my dinner bowl— my second, but most likely out of three. I'd made enough to last however two or three days, and though I had been offline for throught most of now what seemed the entire month, letting my bills lapse over to make nonexistent room in the budget for the peloton, which seemed fair, considering how small I was getting, even cooking and eating myself into the non complacent waking coma that was the vivid and apt focus needed to create music for hours on end—something I had never quite done before in a certain way, and it seemed as though working in this fashion seemed somehow to have moved me solidly forward and sideways through time a bit—some sort of diagonal. I had rested the Sabbath and in the midst of it fallen behind by two days, but making up for it and catching up speed, I had submitted two releases in the early morning on the same day, now coming to an end—and somewhere in the middle, waking up after the fact to a fresh blanket of snow and the whimsy that came with it. A white Christmas afterall, perhaps, if it didn't melt by the following morning, which, judging by the fact that the coffee in the tumbler was still piping hot and not just like warm—I.e., fresh—that I might the same be up early into Christmas morning, also the first day of Hanukkah, and although I had forgone getting a menorah, after the attempt to pick up a free one I had found online over the summer in search of a cat, it didn't seem worth the cost to buy one; I was saving for too many things at once, which meant also nothing, but I couldn't be happier to spend the holidays alone and quietly— I couldn't be with the one person I wanted most, anyway, and so being alone was the next best thing. I almost wished I had've found the cat by now, but it was probably better that I was for the most part, unanchored, and could travel at will if needed. I thought to submit some of my new songs as demos to labels or into contests to try to find a job, but either way I knew in the moment that I would be playing live again by spring, even if it was just barmitsvahe and weddings, the latter of which I actually hoped to avoid, besides the Jewish ones—and my affinity for Jews had become remarkably trademark; as if I had some sort of reason to like them more over time, but I hadn't one—not that I actually knew of, anyway. I had forgotten why I had been checking my email incessantly anyway, besides the new sound packs that seemed to have been magically pouring in, which i became excited to use when the right time struck to dive back into aboleton, learning in broad lessons in how there was a grace period between finishing and submitting tracks and starting again, and being careful not to sink into monotony—until I finally remembered, checking my email—that I had been nervous about samples from one of the latest releases clearing—however—a miracle indeed, it had been approved, and the message sit atop a pile of nonsense in the rest of my email with the news that it had been delivered to stores— I had put out about 15 singles since the beginning of the month and had a week's time more in my subscription to the distribution service—and I planned not to waste any time before my account being terminated— not that eventually I wouldn't renew the subscription, however— it would be at least a few months and probably into the early spring. I had, after all, purchased the subscription around the same time a year sooner, which allowed me to purchase the service at half price— a luxury which no doubt would end before my next payday, and after the payment for my Peloton—however— I thoroughly enjoyed keeping my energy well to myself, and it seemed I was recovering well from having been followed to the gym and harassed, however, now the annoyance was— my neighbor wouldn't leave me alone. She was high maintenance, full of drama, probably a little bit toxic— And now, she wanted to be friends. I thought it best to stay on her good side, and had politely declined the invitation to Christmas at her apartment with her mother, but knew that until one of us moved, I would have to safely navigate the trenches of neighborly rapport; though something told me to be careful with the valitile fragility of the entire thing, it seemed almost the same with anyone, even old friends, that trust itself was rare to have in others, and so my holiday wishes had been simple and humble in truth; it had snowed, and I was alone, and making music— the home gym set-up, complete with yoga mat, Peleton and pink treadmill were simply a bonus. —Tales of a Superstar DJ. [The Festival Project ™] Seven wooky dudes stand candy coated in the VIP section at a major music festival. Who brought them!? U did. Now I wonder ‘What's the difference' Same profession, So much distance I misjudged this; Thought I had it all Wedged behind one ear, Forlorn, (For Lorne) And one finger to the socket Sock puppet watching porn of Elmer Fudd Now, knock it off— I wanna know why god chose the number one, Folders up dollar bill Back of the collections call The corner, a sharp deposit Sure, For figure, full figured dolphins Sawed it all off— A saw tooth lecture; So fire sure a God, But then, A one lost walkie talkie And the other is, of course Without a battery For famine, is it? I also starve. (It's good curry, though.) No more batting practice And no more favors, I'm sure I won't bring it up I've got some kind of trauma In the wallet full of cards I dropped No messages (Still don't know what Ivermectin is.) Refuse to google such an awkward juncture. Sure, the junk worked— Sure the cops called After supper, On you go: The father's Carson. Uncle Parr is at the door. UNCLE JACK I'm back! DAD Sure, you are. [The Man resembles the late Jack Parr.] Here comes old wheats his name, The cousin, tagging alongside big brother A Jon with no H, the cousin— But I just can't call it [A strange looking boy resembling JON STEWART enters alongside his cousin, an even stranger looking whom resembles DAVID LETTERMAN— between the two of them, they are the oldest of the boys, about high school aged—dressed fashionably but odd and both dawning suspenders with their strange and quite ill fitting pants. This is weird. What is this—what is this? What is this here for! Why does this exist at all? What are you doing this for? Skipping suicide another night? Beats the knife in my back. —because, I just don't care anymore. L E G E N D S In an ‘imaginary‘ parallel dimension, the world is torn when the workforce—not just of one Union or another, but the workforce of the entire country goes on strike as a protest against high costs of living in demand of a living wage; a nightly entertainment program is interrupted with a news broadcast which declares a state of emergency—the economy itself on the verge of collapse. Oh. That's what I'm writing. You know, they're gonna kill me for this. —that's why you need therapy! Look, all I want to do is make dance music. Why bother. Why bother at all When big brother is watching, And long gone is Jack Parr, It's all done and divorced, But all sausage party, The festival project. Numb3rs Digital Liquid {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. The Complex Collective ©

TITUS Come, now— As the king does sit upon my throne, Though not a King myself as I, Still cherished among men and many Who are in thine favor, As you seek truth to bear, my King And not your but also yours, Does partake thy bethrotjen nature, To swallow whole a seed a assumption as To vanish by trace, The rather and tide to bond, For truth you seek, And truth I bear, As fruit does grow, By force of not God, But nature, And to thine, the faring way The truth does seek you, too Thus, my God and Queen— But also King, Ruler never captured And gained wisdom by time, Which— None does have, but thyself. And now, Titus. To know,node bearing fruit are I And bearing truth shall you, A lesson gathered, as you as one And I as other— under the assumption of Love What is love? God, this is a sausage feat in here. Let's get some women in this bitch. Oh, there are women— They just don't speak much— Especially in this series Ascension. Because they're perfect. Archaic is this, A truce for the truth I seek. A wage for the war I've bargeouned. Listen now. You tell me. I tell you all that I know, For nothing now, And in nothing's sake, The shared alter. I, too, you. And you to I— Have we parted but some to forge But others? No others remain. And still I gather. With flower. And grow thy seed. The fruit, or truth? No difference. A tree, I am born. To wake. A shadow in the summer's night where autumn azure sun does beem, The wicked truth you lie to pardon Stands in its own awakening; Shallow moon tide's at dawn, And so, you kind folk of Kingdom there And Kingdom come, The truth is said as this, The seed the fruit— The love was born in ritual, And only then, The dance was made, For the song to have been sung as such. Dear Queen, my heart. For never better none has taken guilt in wavering the time has come; Never now but always forward And never there but always bound, To love itself, And so I am. Again. Trust me. I have. The King is slain. —but also lives. As haunted and as haunting no doubt, But to gain is this, my trust And in your waiver— the vow My honor, and sacntity so. The swine. Not of this realm, but others seek. And in this realm and others so The truth of fruit shall parish, Ignored and never eaten Never to have grown from seed, And then, of course, No tree shall I shadow In midnight summer's truth, The blue azure light, Of seeking sun, Soon to align, By midnight dawn, And waking tide— The moon you say. A sworn disaster. And so, I pray. All's fair. And you. [TITUS with a heavy heart exits the corridor.] {Enter The Multiverse} The Strine Force Five assembles in the basement before supper is called SETH, a peckish boy, almost goilish looking, maybe 11 or so steals cookies from OLIVER, who might be about 9, who speaks with a heavy and very proper English accent— Stop stealing my biscuits! Why bring them if you're not going to share? I did share. You lot had the box! You know these are cookies, right? They're my special biscuits. UPSTAIRS, MOM and DAD, very much the classic stereotypical suburban and American everywoman and Everyman prepare for supper. DAD, who resembles almost too much the LATE JOHNNY CARSON, peers into his newspaper conspicuously— Who does mom resemble? Let me — LATER, at the DINNER TABLE. Boys, Say hello to your uncle Steve. [The man heavily resembles Steve Allen] OLIVER Hello, Uncle Steve! UNCLE STEVE …I'm not your uncle. LIL JIMMY (Mumbling) I don't like uncle Steve… BIG JIMMY elbows him. Hard. LIL JIMMY Ow! BIG JIMMY smacks him upside the head, however without harming his very neatly done swooping hair. LIL JIMMY Where's uncle Jack? UNCLE STEVE He's on his way. DAD (Grumbles) …always late. LIL JIMMY (also grumbling, almost mimicking) —that's what I'm saying. BIG JIMMY shoves LIL JIMMY into his seat Also meanwhile, in another alternate dimension. So you're real name is JIMMY WANG. I fucking guess. That's nuts! —it's..:whatever. No, that's nuts— No, it's balls, homie, Your actual name is actually “Dick” twice. Hehehehe. Stop it. Did you have a middle name. No! Let me see. NO. Stop— let me— NO! [he grabs the birth certificate from Jimmy's grip] Let's see. —Jimmy— UGH, Oh, that's interesting, Jimmy and not James, how endearing—let's see— Jimmy—Ah, RICHARD— Wang. Oh my God. Your whole name is just— STOP IT. —it's just dicks. Just—penis words. Tripe dicks. AH! [nearly in tears, JIMMY runs to sulk into the washroom while his buddies continue making dick jokes; it's almost to much to bear—having learned so much about his true identity, most recently, that he was adopted at a very young age from a very nice Asian couple.] SUNNI BLU (Reading newspaper, breaking fourth wall) I told you he was Asian bro. SUDDENLY, Deadpool crashes through the door. SUNNI BLU tosses the super hot model in their lap across the room. YO. DEADPOOL. DEADPOOL YO. SUNNI BLU NOT COOL, BRO. DEADPOOL —what was your name again? SUNNI BLU Ya mutha! DEADPOOL NOT COOL. SUNNI BLU Whateva. {Enter The Multiverse} “Tools of the Trade” Welcome to Hollywood. Who are you? That's not important. It seems important. Now—lessonsz Ok. Tools of the trade: Uh huh. My dick. [he insinuates his crotch] Package. My dyke. [A very pretty lesbian appears out of nowhere.] Hello. My Dick Van Dyke. DICK VAN DYKE also appears out of nowhere. Woah, dude! Careful, he's priceless. I know dude. I can hear you, you know. I hear you too, Dick. Woah! How old are you, dude? Old! Get out of here; Go lay down; Take a nap! They said the gig was till 3. You're off early. Or late. [DICK VAN DYKE turns to leave.] I can still hear you. sweet yellow pinapple and coconut curry over brown rice and lentils sounded like a good Christmas Eve In— “Wait? It is Christmas Eve, isn't it?” I checked the date and time as my phone connected to the wifi. “Yep.” I concurred, slurping the last of the curry broth from my dinner bowl— my second, but most likely out of three. I'd made enough to last however two or three days, and though I had been offline for throught most of now what seemed the entire month, letting my bills lapse over to make nonexistent room in the budget for the peloton, which seemed fair, considering how small I was getting, even cooking and eating myself into the non complacent waking coma that was the vivid and apt focus needed to create music for hours on end—something I had never quite done before in a certain way, and it seemed as though working in this fashion seemed somehow to have moved me solidly forward and sideways through time a bit—some sort of diagonal. I had rested the Sabbath and in the midst of it fallen behind by two days, but making up for it and catching up speed, I had submitted two releases in the early morning on the same day, now coming to an end—and somewhere in the middle, waking up after the fact to a fresh blanket of snow and the whimsy that came with it. A white Christmas afterall, perhaps, if it didn't melt by the following morning, which, judging by the fact that the coffee in the tumbler was still piping hot and not just like warm—I.e., fresh—that I might the same be up early into Christmas morning, also the first day of Hanukkah, and although I had forgone getting a menorah, after the attempt to pick up a free one I had found online over the summer in search of a cat, it didn't seem worth the cost to buy one; I was saving for too many things at once, which meant also nothing, but I couldn't be happier to spend the holidays alone and quietly— I couldn't be with the one person I wanted most, anyway, and so being alone was the next best thing. I almost wished I had've found the cat by now, but it was probably better that I was for the most part, unanchored, and could travel at will if needed. I thought to submit some of my new songs as demos to labels or into contests to try to find a job, but either way I knew in the moment that I would be playing live again by spring, even if it was just barmitsvahe and weddings, the latter of which I actually hoped to avoid, besides the Jewish ones—and my affinity for Jews had become remarkably trademark; as if I had some sort of reason to like them more over time, but I hadn't one—not that I actually knew of, anyway. I had forgotten why I had been checking my email incessantly anyway, besides the new sound packs that seemed to have been magically pouring in, which i became excited to use when the right time struck to dive back into aboleton, learning in broad lessons in how there was a grace period between finishing and submitting tracks and starting again, and being careful not to sink into monotony—until I finally remembered, checking my email—that I had been nervous about samples from one of the latest releases clearing—however—a miracle indeed, it had been approved, and the message sit atop a pile of nonsense in the rest of my email with the news that it had been delivered to stores— I had put out about 15 singles since the beginning of the month and had a week's time more in my subscription to the distribution service—and I planned not to waste any time before my account being terminated— not that eventually I wouldn't renew the subscription, however— it would be at least a few months and probably into the early spring. I had, after all, purchased the subscription around the same time a year sooner, which allowed me to purchase the service at half price— a luxury which no doubt would end before my next payday, and after the payment for my Peloton—however— I thoroughly enjoyed keeping my energy well to myself, and it seemed I was recovering well from having been followed to the gym and harassed, however, now the annoyance was— my neighbor wouldn't leave me alone. She was high maintenance, full of drama, probably a little bit toxic— And now, she wanted to be friends. I thought it best to stay on her good side, and had politely declined the invitation to Christmas at her apartment with her mother, but knew that until one of us moved, I would have to safely navigate the trenches of neighborly rapport; though something told me to be careful with the valitile fragility of the entire thing, it seemed almost the same with anyone, even old friends, that trust itself was rare to have in others, and so my holiday wishes had been simple and humble in truth; it had snowed, and I was alone, and making music— the home gym set-up, complete with yoga mat, Peleton and pink treadmill were simply a bonus. —Tales of a Superstar DJ. [The Festival Project ™] Seven wooky dudes stand candy coated in the VIP section at a major music festival. Who brought them!? U did. Now I wonder ‘What's the difference' Same profession, So much distance I misjudged this; Thought I had it all Wedged behind one ear, Forlorn, (For Lorne) And one finger to the socket Sock puppet watching porn of Elmer Fudd Now, knock it off— I wanna know why god chose the number one, Folders up dollar bill Back of the collections call The corner, a sharp deposit Sure, For figure, full figured dolphins Sawed it all off— A saw tooth lecture; So fire sure a God, But then, A one lost walkie talkie And the other is, of course Without a battery For famine, is it? I also starve. (It's good curry, though.) No more batting practice And no more favors, I'm sure I won't bring it up I've got some kind of trauma In the wallet full of cards I dropped No messages (Still don't know what Ivermectin is.) Refuse to google such an awkward juncture. Sure, the junk worked— Sure the cops called After supper, On you go: The father's Carson. Uncle Parr is at the door. UNCLE JACK I'm back! DAD Sure, you are. [The Man resembles the late Jack Parr.] Here comes old wheats his name, The cousin, tagging alongside big brother A Jon with no H, the cousin— But I just can't call it [A strange looking boy resembling JON STEWART enters alongside his cousin, an even stranger looking whom resembles DAVID LETTERMAN— between the two of them, they are the oldest of the boys, about high school aged—dressed fashionably but odd and both dawning suspenders with their strange and quite ill fitting pants. This is weird. What is this—what is this? What is this here for! Why does this exist at all? What are you doing this for? Skipping suicide another night? Beats the knife in my back. —because, I just don't care anymore. L E G E N D S In an ‘imaginary‘ parallel dimension, the world is torn when the workforce—not just of one Union or another, but the workforce of the entire country goes on strike as a protest against high costs of living in demand of a living wage; a nightly entertainment program is interrupted with a news broadcast which declares a state of emergency—the economy itself on the verge of collapse. Oh. That's what I'm writing. You know, they're gonna kill me for this. —that's why you need therapy! Look, all I want to do is make dance music. Why bother. Why bother at all When big brother is watching, And long gone is Jack Parr, It's all done and divorced, But all sausage party, The festival project. Numb3rs Digital Liquid {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. The Complex Collective ©

TITUS Come, now— As the king does sit upon my throne, Though not a King myself as I, Still cherished among men and many Who are in thine favor, As you seek truth to bear, my King And not your but also yours, Does partake thy bethrotjen nature, To swallow whole a seed a assumption as To vanish by trace, The rather and tide to bond, For truth you seek, And truth I bear, As fruit does grow, By force of not God, But nature, And to thine, the faring way The truth does seek you, too Thus, my God and Queen— But also King, Ruler never captured And gained wisdom by time, Which— None does have, but thyself. And now, Titus. To know,node bearing fruit are I And bearing truth shall you, A lesson gathered, as you as one And I as other— under the assumption of Love What is love? God, this is a sausage feat in here. Let's get some women in this bitch. Oh, there are women— They just don't speak much— Especially in this series Ascension. Because they're perfect. Archaic is this, A truce for the truth I seek. A wage for the war I've bargeouned. Listen now. You tell me. I tell you all that I know, For nothing now, And in nothing's sake, The shared alter. I, too, you. And you to I— Have we parted but some to forge But others? No others remain. And still I gather. With flower. And grow thy seed. The fruit, or truth? No difference. A tree, I am born. To wake. A shadow in the summer's night where autumn azure sun does beem, The wicked truth you lie to pardon Stands in its own awakening; Shallow moon tide's at dawn, And so, you kind folk of Kingdom there And Kingdom come, The truth is said as this, The seed the fruit— The love was born in ritual, And only then, The dance was made, For the song to have been sung as such. Dear Queen, my heart. For never better none has taken guilt in wavering the time has come; Never now but always forward And never there but always bound, To love itself, And so I am. Again. Trust me. I have. The King is slain. —but also lives. As haunted and as haunting no doubt, But to gain is this, my trust And in your waiver— the vow My honor, and sacntity so. The swine. Not of this realm, but others seek. And in this realm and others so The truth of fruit shall parish, Ignored and never eaten Never to have grown from seed, And then, of course, No tree shall I shadow In midnight summer's truth, The blue azure light, Of seeking sun, Soon to align, By midnight dawn, And waking tide— The moon you say. A sworn disaster. And so, I pray. All's fair. And you. [TITUS with a heavy heart exits the corridor.] {Enter The Multiverse} The Strine Force Five assembles in the basement before supper is called SETH, a peckish boy, almost goilish looking, maybe 11 or so steals cookies from OLIVER, who might be about 9, who speaks with a heavy and very proper English accent— Stop stealing my biscuits! Why bring them if you're not going to share? I did share. You lot had the box! You know these are cookies, right? They're my special biscuits. UPSTAIRS, MOM and DAD, very much the classic stereotypical suburban and American everywoman and Everyman prepare for supper. DAD, who resembles almost too much the LATE JOHNNY CARSON, peers into his newspaper conspicuously— Who does mom resemble? Let me — LATER, at the DINNER TABLE. Boys, Say hello to your uncle Steve. [The man heavily resembles Steve Allen] OLIVER Hello, Uncle Steve! UNCLE STEVE …I'm not your uncle. LIL JIMMY (Mumbling) I don't like uncle Steve… BIG JIMMY elbows him. Hard. LIL JIMMY Ow! BIG JIMMY smacks him upside the head, however without harming his very neatly done swooping hair. LIL JIMMY Where's uncle Jack? UNCLE STEVE He's on his way. DAD (Grumbles) …always late. LIL JIMMY (also grumbling, almost mimicking) —that's what I'm saying. BIG JIMMY shoves LIL JIMMY into his seat Also meanwhile, in another alternate dimension. So you're real name is JIMMY WANG. I fucking guess. That's nuts! —it's..:whatever. No, that's nuts— No, it's balls, homie, Your actual name is actually “Dick” twice. Hehehehe. Stop it. Did you have a middle name. No! Let me see. NO. Stop— let me— NO! [he grabs the birth certificate from Jimmy's grip] Let's see. —Jimmy— UGH, Oh, that's interesting, Jimmy and not James, how endearing—let's see— Jimmy—Ah, RICHARD— Wang. Oh my God. Your whole name is just— STOP IT. —it's just dicks. Just—penis words. Tripe dicks. AH! [nearly in tears, JIMMY runs to sulk into the washroom while his buddies continue making dick jokes; it's almost to much to bear—having learned so much about his true identity, most recently, that he was adopted at a very young age from a very nice Asian couple.] SUNNI BLU (Reading newspaper, breaking fourth wall) I told you he was Asian bro. SUDDENLY, Deadpool crashes through the door. SUNNI BLU tosses the super hot model in their lap across the room. YO. DEADPOOL. DEADPOOL YO. SUNNI BLU NOT COOL, BRO. DEADPOOL —what was your name again? SUNNI BLU Ya mutha! DEADPOOL NOT COOL. SUNNI BLU Whateva. {Enter The Multiverse} “Tools of the Trade” Welcome to Hollywood. Who are you? That's not important. It seems important. Now—lessonsz Ok. Tools of the trade: Uh huh. My dick. [he insinuates his crotch] Package. My dyke. [A very pretty lesbian appears out of nowhere.] Hello. My Dick Van Dyke. DICK VAN DYKE also appears out of nowhere. Woah, dude! Careful, he's priceless. I know dude. I can hear you, you know. I hear you too, Dick. Woah! How old are you, dude? Old! Get out of here; Go lay down; Take a nap! They said the gig was till 3. You're off early. Or late. [DICK VAN DYKE turns to leave.] I can still hear you. sweet yellow pinapple and coconut curry over brown rice and lentils sounded like a good Christmas Eve In— “Wait? It is Christmas Eve, isn't it?” I checked the date and time as my phone connected to the wifi. “Yep.” I concurred, slurping the last of the curry broth from my dinner bowl— my second, but most likely out of three. I'd made enough to last however two or three days, and though I had been offline for throught most of now what seemed the entire month, letting my bills lapse over to make nonexistent room in the budget for the peloton, which seemed fair, considering how small I was getting, even cooking and eating myself into the non complacent waking coma that was the vivid and apt focus needed to create music for hours on end—something I had never quite done before in a certain way, and it seemed as though working in this fashion seemed somehow to have moved me solidly forward and sideways through time a bit—some sort of diagonal. I had rested the Sabbath and in the midst of it fallen behind by two days, but making up for it and catching up speed, I had submitted two releases in the early morning on the same day, now coming to an end—and somewhere in the middle, waking up after the fact to a fresh blanket of snow and the whimsy that came with it. A white Christmas afterall, perhaps, if it didn't melt by the following morning, which, judging by the fact that the coffee in the tumbler was still piping hot and not just like warm—I.e., fresh—that I might the same be up early into Christmas morning, also the first day of Hanukkah, and although I had forgone getting a menorah, after the attempt to pick up a free one I had found online over the summer in search of a cat, it didn't seem worth the cost to buy one; I was saving for too many things at once, which meant also nothing, but I couldn't be happier to spend the holidays alone and quietly— I couldn't be with the one person I wanted most, anyway, and so being alone was the next best thing. I almost wished I had've found the cat by now, but it was probably better that I was for the most part, unanchored, and could travel at will if needed. I thought to submit some of my new songs as demos to labels or into contests to try to find a job, but either way I knew in the moment that I would be playing live again by spring, even if it was just barmitsvahe and weddings, the latter of which I actually hoped to avoid, besides the Jewish ones—and my affinity for Jews had become remarkably trademark; as if I had some sort of reason to like them more over time, but I hadn't one—not that I actually knew of, anyway. I had forgotten why I had been checking my email incessantly anyway, besides the new sound packs that seemed to have been magically pouring in, which i became excited to use when the right time struck to dive back into aboleton, learning in broad lessons in how there was a grace period between finishing and submitting tracks and starting again, and being careful not to sink into monotony—until I finally remembered, checking my email—that I had been nervous about samples from one of the latest releases clearing—however—a miracle indeed, it had been approved, and the message sit atop a pile of nonsense in the rest of my email with the news that it had been delivered to stores— I had put out about 15 singles since the beginning of the month and had a week's time more in my subscription to the distribution service—and I planned not to waste any time before my account being terminated— not that eventually I wouldn't renew the subscription, however— it would be at least a few months and probably into the early spring. I had, after all, purchased the subscription around the same time a year sooner, which allowed me to purchase the service at half price— a luxury which no doubt would end before my next payday, and after the payment for my Peloton—however— I thoroughly enjoyed keeping my energy well to myself, and it seemed I was recovering well from having been followed to the gym and harassed, however, now the annoyance was— my neighbor wouldn't leave me alone. She was high maintenance, full of drama, probably a little bit toxic— And now, she wanted to be friends. I thought it best to stay on her good side, and had politely declined the invitation to Christmas at her apartment with her mother, but knew that until one of us moved, I would have to safely navigate the trenches of neighborly rapport; though something told me to be careful with the valitile fragility of the entire thing, it seemed almost the same with anyone, even old friends, that trust itself was rare to have in others, and so my holiday wishes had been simple and humble in truth; it had snowed, and I was alone, and making music— the home gym set-up, complete with yoga mat, Peleton and pink treadmill were simply a bonus. —Tales of a Superstar DJ. [The Festival Project ™] Seven wooky dudes stand candy coated in the VIP section at a major music festival. Who brought them!? U did. Now I wonder ‘What's the difference' Same profession, So much distance I misjudged this; Thought I had it all Wedged behind one ear, Forlorn, (For Lorne) And one finger to the socket Sock puppet watching porn of Elmer Fudd Now, knock it off— I wanna know why god chose the number one, Folders up dollar bill Back of the collections call The corner, a sharp deposit Sure, For figure, full figured dolphins Sawed it all off— A saw tooth lecture; So fire sure a God, But then, A one lost walkie talkie And the other is, of course Without a battery For famine, is it? I also starve. (It's good curry, though.) No more batting practice And no more favors, I'm sure I won't bring it up I've got some kind of trauma In the wallet full of cards I dropped No messages (Still don't know what Ivermectin is.) Refuse to google such an awkward juncture. Sure, the junk worked— Sure the cops called After supper, On you go: The father's Carson. Uncle Parr is at the door. UNCLE JACK I'm back! DAD Sure, you are. [The Man resembles the late Jack Parr.] Here comes old wheats his name, The cousin, tagging alongside big brother A Jon with no H, the cousin— But I just can't call it [A strange looking boy resembling JON STEWART enters alongside his cousin, an even stranger looking whom resembles DAVID LETTERMAN— between the two of them, they are the oldest of the boys, about high school aged—dressed fashionably but odd and both dawning suspenders with their strange and quite ill fitting pants. This is weird. What is this—what is this? What is this here for! Why does this exist at all? What are you doing this for? Skipping suicide another night? Beats the knife in my back. —because, I just don't care anymore. L E G E N D S In an ‘imaginary‘ parallel dimension, the world is torn when the workforce—not just of one Union or another, but the workforce of the entire country goes on strike as a protest against high costs of living in demand of a living wage; a nightly entertainment program is interrupted with a news broadcast which declares a state of emergency—the economy itself on the verge of collapse. Oh. That's what I'm writing. You know, they're gonna kill me for this. —that's why you need therapy! Look, all I want to do is make dance music. Why bother. Why bother at all When big brother is watching, And long gone is Jack Parr, It's all done and divorced, But all sausage party, The festival project. Numb3rs Digital Liquid {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. The Complex Collective ©

A woman was stuck between two huge rocks in the Hunter Valley after she tried to retrieve her mobile phone.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

A tragic accident on the Camas Slough Bridge involving a wedged truck carrying a manufactured home led to a fatality and two injuries. The incident on State Route 14 caused significant traffic disruptions, with both directions of the route closed for hours. Full details are available at https://tinyurl.com/msxf4zjx. #wedgedtruck #fatalcollision #CamasSloughBridge #StateRoute14 #oversizedload #trafficbarriers #westboundlane #WashingtonState #ClarkCounty #localnews

Ambient Songs:"The End is Coming" by CoAghttps://www.youtube.com/@co.agmusic1823Intro Theme by Swift Junai:https://www.instagram.com/swiftjunai/?hl=enhttps://www.youtube.com/channel/UC6hf5nMJ8s6LJJfFR4OQ3lghttps://open.spotify.com/artist/1PoG2b18MHocWZA8zQgWjOWriters and researchers: Jay Adamshttps://instagram.com/jayadamsdigital?igshid=MzMyNGUyNmU2YQ==Rich Firth-Godbehere instagram.com/DrRichFG https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCMGZs8swehdcCB0pi3V4vKQJordan Gottschick https://www.youtube.com/@DerpsWithWolves/playlists

Evelyn's Dark Labyrinth Task. By BradentonLarry - Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. The maze at the Manor had been bright and green, with nice right angles and a geometric design that was pleasing to the eye. This was dark, grey, and anything but pleasant.“Scary, isn't it?” Instinctively dropping into a crouch and raising her staff defensively, Evelyn looked around for the speaker. It had sounded close and came from her right, over by the dead tree. She noticed that there was a grey bird with a reddish-brown head and white throat looking at her calmly. She thought it looked like a small hawk. “Did you say that?” she asked the bird skeptically. “I did,” the bird gave a little nod. “A talking hawk,” Evelyn chuckled. “I shouldn't be surprised, I guess.” “Excuse me, miss, I am not a hawk,” the bird stretched its wings and puffed out its chest a bit. “I am a red-necked falcon.” Lowering her staff, Evelyn smiled and said, “I'm sorry. I didn't know. Ornithology is not really my specialty.” “I forgive you,” the bird said. Evelyn decided she should just roll with the situation and said, “You were saying something about the maze?” “Yes,” the falcon nodded a bit. “It's rather scary, isn't it?” “Is it actually dangerous, though?” “Naw, I fly over it all the time.” “I'm afraid I don't have that option.” “Oh, well, yes, I suppose you don't,” the falcon said. “Does that mean you are actually going to go into it.” Evelyn frowned, then said, “Well, is that the Dark Labyrinth?” “I believe so. I have heard it called that, anyway.” “Then I have to go into it. I need to reach the center of it.” “Whatever for?” “It's my quest,” Evelyn smirked, mostly just to herself. “Oh, well, I guess that makes sense, then. Annoying things, quests.” “You're not wrong,” she smiled. Just then a loud voice called out from above them, “Horace! What are you doing down there?” Looking up, Evelyn saw another falcon circling them in the grey sky. “I'm just being friendly,” the falcon in the tree, who Evelyn now supposed must be named Horace, called back. “Leave that poor girl alone,” the falcon in the air called down. “We're just talking, honey,” Horace shouted. Then, addressing Evelyn in a normal, quieter voice, he said, “Sorry about that. The missus gets a bit jealous sometimes.” Evelyn smiled and said, “That's alright, I should be on my way anyway.” “Be careful,” Horace nodded. “I'll do my best. Any advice?” “Don't get distracted,” he said. “There are things in there that will try to trap you, or at least get you very lost.” Then, as he flapped into the air, he added, “Oh, and don't let the Beast catch you!” “What? The ‘Beast'?!” Evelyn called after him, but he was already too far away to hear, or at least to reply. With a serious scowl and her staff at the ready, Evelyn started down into the labyrinth, entering it near the closest end of the valley, but quite high up the slope. For the rest of that first day, Evelyn worked her way through the maze slowly and carefully. She decided it would be a good idea to follow the left wall, just to help keep track of where she'd been. She wished she'd managed to bring along some chalk. Before it started to get too dark, she found a section of wall that had collapsed, forming a little cave she managed to crawl into without scraping herself up too badly. She felt far from secure, but she thought it was the best shelter she was likely to find before night fell. Stumbling around that maze in the dark seemed a sure recipe for disaster. Before she was able to drift off into a restless sleep, she gave herself a quiet orgasm, clutching her staff to her as she shuddered in the rubble. Early the next day, Evelyn found some blueberries growing down the side of a wall and drank the water that gathered on the leaves from the misty air. She was starting to think it could take a very long time for her to reach the center of this damned thing. She was trying to use the trick Don had taught her to use in navigating the Manor, but she couldn't tell if it was helping at all. Toward midday, when she was thinking about taking a break anyway, Evelyn came to the first opening in the labyrinth. Like the rest of the maze, this clearing was in a state of serious disrepair, but there was an apple tree surviving and bearing fruit in the corner, and a large pool taking up most of the center of the space. Jumping up and swinging her staff, Evelyn was able to knock down a couple of apples. Biting into one, she found it surprisingly tart for Erosian fruit, but it was still delicious. As she ate her lunch, Evelyn strolled over to the pool of water. It looked too still to be safe to drink, but she might be able to use it to clean up a bit. Looking at her reflection, she saw that she was indeed quite disheveled and dirty. She tossed the core of her apple off to the side, dropped to her knees and set her staff down next to her as she cupped her hands to splash some water on her face. After a bit of rubbing and splashing, and running her fingers through her hair, she waited for the water to calm to see if she was actually helping her situation. Looking down to her reflection, she was surprised to see another face looking up at her. Bright emerald eyes regarded her from beneath the water, and then as she scrambled backward a pale woman with blonde hair broke the surface and said, “Well, hello there.” She had a vaguely Scandinavian accent and a sweet, sexy smile. “Ah, hello,” Evelyn responded. “Sorry if I startled you,” the girl in the water said. “You're just so pretty, I had to come say ‘hi.'” Not knowing what else to say, Evelyn smiled and said, “Well, thank you.” “I'm Trielle,” the woman said as she extended her hand, leaning on the bank of the pool, her porcelain breasts brushing the grass. “Uh, Sage,” Evelyn said as she shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Trielle.” Trielle continued to hold Evelyn's hand, her clasp becoming a caress, and purred, “It's been a long time since we've had a visitor here. I'd love a chance to get to know you better.” The smile on Trielle's lips and the glimmer in her eyes as she said this left very little doubt as to what sort of getting-to-know she had in mind. Evelyn swallowed, and said, “Well, that certainly does sound nice.” Trielle's green eyes were certainly inviting, and Evelyn found herself moving closer, until she was leaning down to kiss the girl's cool, moist lips. Trielle's slender fingers moved up to gently brush the sides of Evelyn's face and then held her there lightly as her tongue slipped into Evelyn's mouth. The feeling of the girl's tongue on hers as well as the soft pressure of their lips together was intoxicating, and Evelyn felt herself leaning forward to indulge herself more deeply in the kiss. Suddenly remembering herself, Evelyn pulled back, regaining her balance on the grass. Trielle smiled back at her. If she was offended by the abrupt withdrawal there was no indication. “You're a good kisser,” the woman smiled, “and you taste so good.” Evelyn found herself blushing a little and said, “Thank you, so do you.” “Would you let me taste you down there?” Trielle asked with a wink. “Down there?” Evelyn found herself suddenly a bit confused. “Uh-hum,” Trielle nodded, biting her lower lip a bit. “You can just sit here on the edge.” Evelyn caught on and said, “Oh! Well, I guess it would be rude of me to say 'no.'” “It certainly would,” nodded Trielle emphatically. Then she pushed back from the shore to let Evelyn rearrange herself so that she was sitting on the edge of the pool with her legs in the water. Smiling up at Evelyn, Trielle moved smoothly through the water between Evelyn's legs. Evelyn shuddered a little in anticipation as Trielle's cool, light fingers moved up her legs. Then she sighed when Trielle's lips brushed over her labia, which were already quite moist and very ready for some affection. Soon, Evelyn was leaning back on one arm while she held Trielle's blonde head in place while the girl in the pool licked and sucked at Evelyn's clit. It didn't take long before Evelyn's orgasm wracked her body with intense, fiery delight, muscles clenching and heart pounding. Slowing her ministrations until Evelyn could regain her breath, Trielle kept her mouth on Evelyn's sex, and then, when Evelyn was ready for more, she began to tongue her clit again, slowly but firmly. Even quicker than the first time, Evelyn's body responded to the woman's cunnilingual skills. Crying out and arching her back there on the bank of the pool, Evelyn came and came, shuddering intensely until she collapsed, spent. As Evelyn lay on her back, looking up at the leaden clouds, heart pounding in her chest, she said, “Thank you! I really needed that.” “It was my pleasure, Sage,” the woman in the water said. “Can you come up here so I can return the favor?” “Oh, no, I don't think I can do that, but you could come in here and play with us.” “Us?” Evelyn asked, and then hauled herself up to see that she and Trielle were no longer alone. Four other people were there in the water. Three of them were handsome men, two of whom were lounging back against the far shore of the pool, muscular arms resting on the ground and broad chests on tempting display. The third man was closer, leaning on the ground, his chin propped on his palm, watching Evelyn with a playful smile on his lips. The new woman was slowly bobbing in the middle of the pool, just her head above water. All of them were staggeringly attractive. “Oh,” Evelyn said, drawing back a bit. “Hello there.” “Come on in, Sage, and we'll have a wonderful time,” Trielle smiled. Evelyn was thinking they did look like they would be a lot of fun, but she managed to say, “I don't think I should.” “Can't you swim?” Trielle asked as if that were the only possible objection one could make to her invitation. “Well, yes, I can but…” “She can't breathe underwater,” came a familiar voice from behind Evelyn, in the direction of the apple tree. Evelyn nodded, “Yes, that's right; I can't.” Trielle pouted a bit theatrically, and said, “Horace, you're always spoiling our fun.” “I doubt that,” said the falcon. “Are you sure you don't want to come in for a while?” Trielle asked, though her tone suggested she knew what the answer would be. Evelyn drew back from the water, curling up well out of reach of the people watching her in the pool, but smiled and said, “I'm very flattered, but I really must continue on my quest.” As her companions began dropping down into the water, Trielle said, “Oh, a quest? Well, that's understandable. It was very nice meeting you, Sage.” Then, with a wave and smile, Trielle dove beneath the water, which was broken again a moment later as a very large fish-tail flipped up and splashed before disappearing again. After realizing she was gaping at the fact that she'd just been eaten out by a mermaid and invited to participate in a mer-orgy, Evelyn shut her mouth, stood up and turned to see Horace perched in the tree. She smiled and said, “Thank you. I wasn't thinking too clearly there for a minute.” “Don't mention it,” Horace said. “Might be a good idea to be a bit more careful, though. This whole place wants to keep you from getting where you want to go.” “The place wants…?” she started but Horace had already taken to the skies again. Carrying an apple in one hand and her staff in the other, Evelyn spent the rest of the day making her meandering way through the Labyrinth. She found that the more natural-seeming surface maze was combined with the occasional overpass and tunnel. She moved as quickly as possible through the latter but tried to appreciate the view afforded by the former. Unfortunately, the Labyrinth now stretched out in every direction with no clear end in sight. Toward evening she heard her next sign of animal life, and it was not at all welcome. Rising in the distance as she started down from one of the overpasses, Evelyn heard something that sounded uncomfortably like the howl of a wolf. Spinning around with her staff at the ready, apple falling to her feet, she scanned her surroundings for any movement or other sign. After several minutes of nothing, she hurried back into the maze. She was now looking for some kind of shelter for the night. The best she could do before it got too dark to continue was to climb up a tree that had enough leaves on it that she wasn't completely visible from the ground. As she finally ate her apple, Evelyn realized that her precarious perch was far from ideal. She might fall in her sleep, and she had no assurance whatsoever that the beast Horace had mentioned couldn't climb this tree as well as she, or better. She wasn't even sure that the howl she had heard belonged to that beast. For all she knew, there could be several beasts about. Still, she would be even more vulnerable on the ground, wandering about the maze in the dark, so she made the best of the situation. Wedged as comfortably as possible, she passed a fitful night in the branches of her tree. As soon as the sky began to lighten in the morning, Evelyn managed to climb down. Rubbing her stiff muscles, she congratulated herself on still being alive and in one piece. Then she started off again. That second day was a long, tedious one, punctuated only by the discovery of another apple tree and then, in the evening, another howl. This time she was sure it was closer, but she still couldn't tell from which direction it came. She managed to clamber up onto the top of a wall, where she managed to sleep a bit during the night. She dreamed of a black shape looking for her with blazing red eyes. Soon after her first masturbation break (spent huddled in a corner, thinking about her fun on the Riverboat with Don) on day three, Evelyn came upon what she took to be a hopeful sign. Her way was blocked by a heavy stone gate with a broad platform set above it. It didn't seem to her that whoever had designed the Dark Labyrinth would put such an obstacle here if it was just a dead end. As she approached the gate, there was a loud flapping sound - much, much louder than anything Horace could make. Craning her neck, she was able to catch sight of a massive shape swooping overhead just before it landed on the platform over the gate. Evelyn was amused to see a winged sphinx perched there regarding her carefully. It had the body and limbs of a rather large lion or some other cat, enormous feathered wings at either side, and the dark-haired head of a handsome, bearded, man. It had been several days with mostly herself for company, and the encounter with Trielle had been all too brief, so she wasn't too surprised to find herself wondering if she was about to experience some sphinx sex. She was more surprised to find that the idea was more intriguing than troubling. This was Eros, after all. The sphinx looked her over slowly, cleared his throat, and said in somewhat bellowing and official tone, “I am Oberon, guardian of this gate, only those who pass my test shall pass!” Then, in a more conversational voice, he asked, “Are you lost or what?” “Ah, no,” Evelyn frowned. “At least, I don't think I'm lost.” “Would you know if you were?” “Maybe not, but that's why I said I don't think I am.” The sphinx managed to shrug, and said, “Fine, then, what are you doing here?” “I am trying to reach the center of the Labyrinth.” Rolling its eyes a bit, he said, “Why?” “It's my quest,” she said, remembering how satisfying Trielle had found that answer. “That's not much of an explanation, is it?” “Isn't it?” “No,” he shook his head. “Look, I'm asking for your motivation, and you've just given me a redescription. 'I'm on a quest to reach the center,' doesn't explain why you're trying to reach the center at all. I'm just going to have to ask you why you're on a quest. Right?” “Yeah, I can see that. Sorry.” “Don't be sorry,” he frowned. “Just try to be a bit more cooperative, and we'll both be happier, okay?” “Sure,” she nodded. He looked at her expectantly. “Oh!” she started, “I want to get one of those rings that lets you go from Eros to my home world and back, but the Watchers Council, or whatever you want to call them, is giving me tasks to complete first, and this is one of them - to reach the center of the Labyrinth.” “That's better,” he nodded. “I could ask why you want one of those rings, et cetera, blah, blah, blah, but I'd rather not waste my time. It's not like I actually care.” Evelyn thought about that for a second and said, “I can understand that.” “Still,” he said, “I do have a job to do, and it's my one and only job, so I might as well take it seriously.” “Sounds like a plan,” Evelyn nodded, still wondering what was about to happen. “So, here's the deal,” the sphinx said. “I'm going to ask you three riddles, and if you get them right, I'll open this gate and give you a prize.” “Okay, and if I don't get them right?” “I will swoop down on you, tear your skinny body to pieces, and eat you.” Evelyn took a step back, raising her staff. “No, I'm fucking with you,” he laughed. “You just have to wait until tomorrow when I come back and ask you three more.” “That's not so bad,” Evelyn agreed. “I should think not! Are you ready?” “Sure,” she shrugged. “Oh wait, does everything have to answer your riddles to get through here.” “Of course,” he said with a touch of pride. “Good,” she nodded, though she immediately realized that this might not be the only way to get to where she was going and that the beast, or whatever, might know another way. “Your first riddle is this: ·       I get sensitive when teased and often come in pairs, ·       Everyone is born with me, but not everyone uses me, ·       I've been in everyone's mouth and cry when full. What am I?” “Ah, let me think a minute,” Evelyn said. “There is a time limit,” the sphinx said. “Is there really?” “Well, I'm not going to give an unlimited number of guesses or hang out here all day.” “I suppose that's fair,” she shrugged, “and you're a nipple.” “Correct,” he nodded. “Second riddle: ·       What is always in the south, but can be found in the north, ·       Has no friends but is fun at a party, ·       Likes attention though is often hidden from view, and is best when near you?” “That's trickier,” she frowned for a long moment. “A clit?” “Very good,” Oberon nodded. “Well, it's one of my favorite things,” she smiled up at him. The sphinx actually smiled and said, “I'm sure it is. You're pretty good at this. Ready for the third?” “I am,” she nodded. “What; ·       can arrive fast or slow ·       Has a rise and a fall ·       Is good the first time as the second ·       Involves one or many, and ·       is always an appreciated guest?” “Oh, I like the phrasing of that one,” Evelyn smiled, “and again, it's one of my favorite things: an orgasm.” “You may pass,” Oberon nodded. The gate beneath him slowly swung open. The sphinx pushed a bundle off his ledge to fall on the ground in front of Evelyn. “That's your prize.” Evelyn picked up a pouch that held a flask of water and had enough room for several apples as well as a strap that made slinging it over her shoulder easy and comfortable. “Thank you!” she grinned up at him. “You're welcome,” he nodded. “Good luck in there.” “I'll try,” she bowed a little and passed through the gate. When she looked back on the other side, Oberon had flown off already. The pouch made her life quite a bit easier. She gathered four apples to take along when she found the next tree and was able to take a drink whenever she felt thirsty. She almost found herself enjoying her long wandering through the labyrinth for the rest of that day. Passing the night in a rather uncomfortable tree cured her of her good mood, though. The next day began with yet another howl in the distance, and this time Evelyn was quite sure it was coming from someplace much closer. As a result, she quickened her pace, and decided to skip any masturbation breaks, no matter how horny she got. This proved a bit problematic when she got to her next distraction. Early in the afternoon, just after navigating a complex of particularly tight corners and switchbacks, she came to a fairly straight run that was unremarkable except for the open doorway halfway down the right side. Orangish light spilled out of the door and illuminated that part of the pathway. As Evelyn drew closer, she felt warmth washing over her for the first time in days and heard the unmistakable sounds of several individuals having a wonderful time together. When she could actually look through the doorway, what she saw made her stop dead in her tracks. Evelyn found herself peering into a sumptuous bedroom, not unlike those in the Manor, but with a redder, darker aesthetic. There was a fireplace warming the room, many candles suffusing the space with gentle welcoming light, a soft, thick black carpet, plush overstuffed chairs, and a large bed covered with what looked like a deep crimson duvet. Then there were the people… On the bed were at least four bodies entwined in a very appealing arrangement of shapely limbs and muscular torsos. Evelyn was particularly distracted by one very masculine backside, from the splendidly tight ass to the strong lower back, as its owner slowly and intently moved between a pair of beautiful long legs. As pleasing as the tableaux on the bed was, though, Evelyn's eyes were drawn to a scene much closer at hand. There, in a large armchair that bore not a small resemblance to a throne, reclined a staggeringly gorgeous woman with long, thick, dark hair tumbling down around her face and over her shoulders. She had a pair of breasts that were simply breathtaking, full and firm, rising and falling there in the candlelight. Her legs were long and strong, and parted so that a much smaller woman could kneel between them and go down on her. Evelyn noticed in passing that the tiny woman on the floor had a long, slender tail springing from the base of her spine and whipping slowly back and forth. The woman who was being pleasured there was watching Evelyn with a smile on her dark red lips. Evelyn noticed that the woman seemed to have little horns high on her forehead, but, like the other woman's tail, this didn't seem to bother Evelyn at all. Instead, she found herself wanting nothing more than to go into this room and worship those magnificent, beautiful tits. Somehow, though, she resisted, her fingers clutching the doorframe next to her. “Oh, do come in, sweet thing,” the woman in the chair said. “You look like you could use a bath and a good night's sleep, as well as some tender loving care.” “Thank you, but I really should keep going,” Evelyn said quietly. Her eyes followed the woman's hand as it moved over one of her own glorious breasts, giving it a squeeze and running a long red nail over her hard nipple. “Are you sure that's what you want?” the woman smiled. “There is so much pleasure to be enjoyed here. Why make things so hard on yourself?” “It's my quest,” Evelyn tried. “Silly child,” the woman chuckled. “What could you want out there? We have anything you might desire here.” To illustrate her point, there were now two naked people standing there on either side of the woman's chair, one man and one woman. Both were achingly beautiful, had those tiny little horns, and seemed to have tails swishing behind them. The woman was slender with lovely small breasts with nipples that seemed to want Evelyn to kiss them. The man was built like an athlete or a model and was sporting a generous erection that seemed to beckon to Evelyn. “I need to get one of those rings so I can come back to Eros…” Evelyn reminded herself. “Oh, but why would you ever want to leave?” the woman in the chair said. “Come in and stay with us. We'll make you so comfortable and give you so very much pleasure.” Evelyn closed her eyes and forced herself to concentrate. The gorgeous woman had overplayed her hand a bit. “So, if I come in, I have to stay, eh?” Evelyn asked, once again using her normal voice. “What would tempt you to leave?” the woman said with that seductive smile. “Well, variety is nice,” Evelyn pointed out. “We can accommodate that very easily.” The woman beside the chair was now Asian, and the man was black, and the room now appeared to be in a mountain lodge. Then the woman was black, with full breasts and a large cock, the man now looked just like Don, and the room was a library - a library featuring a large bed. Evelyn smiled and said, “It's a tempting offer, but no thanks. Have fun.” She turned and started back on her way. “Well done,” said a voice from overhead. “Hardly anyone can resist Beatrix.” “Hey, Horace,” Evelyn said as she craned her neck to get a look at the falcon as he circled overhead. “How much farther do I have before I get to the center of this damn thing?” “Oh, not far at all,” he replied. “It's just over there.” “She doesn't mean in a straight line, fool,” said the female falcon, who was now perched on a nearby wall. “Oh, right, let me have a look,” Horace said and flew off. “Thank you…” “Heather,” the lady falcon said, “and don't mention it. It seems like my job to keep him focused. You're doing very well, by the way.” “I am?” Evelyn smiled. “Thank you.” “Yes,” Heather bobbed her head. “By now the Beast would have caught up with most people.” Evelyn shifted her staff and looked around before asking, “Can you tell me more about this Beast?” “Big hairy brute,” Heather said. “Never gives up when he's got your scent, and he has yours.” “How far back is he?” “Hard to say. There are lots of ways to go down here. I'd guess you might have till dusk, give or take, if you hurry.” Evelyn's eyes grew wide and tried to think of another question to ask, but Horace returned and lighted next to his mate and said, “It's hard for me to say with your handicap…” “He means because you can't fly,” Heather clarified. “Yes,” Horace bobbed. “Wasn't that obvious? Anyway, you could be there in a couple of hours, but only if you go through the ghost cave. It'll take twice as long if you go around that.” “Ghost cave?” Evelyn asked as she started to move again, hoping the falcons would follow along. “Yeah,” Horace said. “You can't miss it, but it'll be on your left.” “Okay, but what do you mean 'ghost'?” “You know, disembodied spirits.” That was the most she could get out of the falcons, and Evelyn focused her efforts on hurrying along without tripping or missing the entrance to any caves, 'ghost' or otherwise. Horace had been right, the entrance to the cave would have been very hard to miss indeed. What was, effectively, a four-way intersection formed a small courtyard. The path Evelyn had been following continued on straight through and there was another pathway off to the right, but on the left a long series of broken steps led into the ground much further than any of the previous underpasses. There was a silvery blue glow at the bottom of those stairs and the air was decidedly cooler at the entrance to the passage. Evelyn was not a superstitious woman, but this was Eros, where things were odd, to say the least, and she had spent days wandering the “Dark Labyrinth,” had encountered talking birds, mer-people, and what she was thinking of as succubi, and was being chased by some kind of beast. The situation demanded that she take talk of ghosts quite seriously. Still, any concerns Evelyn was having were banished by the sound of yet another howl, much closer now and clearly from back the way she'd come. She hurried down the steps and into the cave.Evelyn's Seduction by the Ghost of the Labyrinth. As she neared the bottom of the steps Evelyn saw that the cave was filled with a thin glowing mist, which was responsible for the eerie silver-blue illumination. The glow would make navigating the underground passage much easier than Evelyn had feared. Adhering to her policy, she followed the left wall.Evelyn was happy to see that the cave was long enough, and straight enough, that it made sense to think of it as a rough, wide underground passage. She was less happy to notice that there were eddies and clouds in the mist that seemed to linger and move in ways that were… less than natural. As she hurried along, she was sure she felt light touches on her legs and arms, though she could see nothing that might have touched her. She felt a warm breath on her neck at one point but brushed it away and kept moving. It was only when she heard someone whispering something indistinct in her ear that she stopped and whirled around, her staff slicing an arc through the mist. Of course, there was no one there, but the mist swirled around her, seeming to gather around her body. She felt hands… well, she felt something just like hands moving over her legs, then up her body and arms. At first it felt like maybe there were two people caressing her, but then the sensations multiplied quickly, and Evelyn felt like there were a dozen or more pairs of hands moving over her skin, feeling and exploring her body. It was as if her breasts were being cupped, her ass squeezed, her face caressed, and her labia stroked, while her legs and arms, belly and back, were stroked and gently massaged, though she was standing there alone in the cave. In spite of herself, and against her plan to hurry through the cave as quickly as possible, Evelyn found herself getting very turned on by the ghostly attention. When it felt like several mouths, with their very tactile lips, teeth, and tongues, joined the spectral hands, kissing and licking at her skin, sucking and pulling at her nipples, Evelyn shuddered and moaned. She felt herself gently lifted into the air as invisible hands parted her legs. Then Evelyn groaned loudly as the sensation of several mouths pleasuring her pussy and clit flooded through her nervous system. She came there, floating in the mist, as hours and hours of frustration broke through the dam and washed over her in a tumbling storm of muscle clenching ecstasy. She was still shuddering and gasping when she felt something pushing up into her pussy. No, it was definitely somethings, plural. She was being filled quite nicely, but not more than she would by one good-sized cock, but they were moving separately, and the feeling was amazing! Every bit of her pussy was being stroked and stimulated at once. Plus, there was still the feeling of several mouths on her, licking her clit and sucking her nipples, while all those ghostly hands caressed her body. Evelyn felt herself surrendering, letting the ghosts, or whatever they were, have their way with her. She thought it would be wonderful to just float along like this, being made love to for… for… “No!” she shouted, much louder than she had expected. Immediately she dropped to the ground, landing painfully, and an angry, “Fuck!” As she picked herself up and looked around for her staff, Evelyn eyed the glowing mist all around her warily. When she had retrieved her staff and adjusted her pouch, she said, “Look, I'm sorry. You've all been really wonderful, and that was just really, really amazing, but I have to keep going.” Knowing the whole point of the ghost cave was probably to keep her from finishing the labyrinth, she was a bit surprised when the mist drew back and let her continue without any further temptations or interference. Even so, Evelyn spent the rest of her underground journey thinking about how intense her experience had been. She found herself thinking she would like to come back here. She wondered how it would feel to have the ghosts come inside her. Did they even have orgasms? These musings kept her rather distracted and very horny until she started up a rough-hewn set of steps at the end of the cave. Blinking in the relatively bright light of the overcast day, Evelyn looked around and tried to get her bearings. She was at another four-way intersection, and started to head to the left, as her system dictated. “No, go straight,” said Horace from overhead. “Hurry! He found a shortcut.” Stumbling a bit, Evelyn broke into a run. Her pouch was slapping at her wildly, so she wrestled it off and tossed it aside. This was one of those times she was glad she didn't have bigger tits. “Right and right again,” Horace shouted. Evelyn wanted to ask why the hell he hadn't been this helpful earlier but decided not to waste her breath at that moment. Instead she pitched herself around the two corners and ran flat out. “She's not going to make it,” Heather said from somewhere off to Evelyn's left. “Take this next left and then a quick right and the central clearing is straight ahead,” Horace continued. Evelyn made the jog to the left, scraping her shoulder on the corner, and sprinted. Ahead, she could see where the walls on either side of her came to an end and there was some kind of opening. Then she was through and running into a large courtyard that looked like it had once been nicely maintained but had since been left to ruin. Scraggly weeds and grasses pushed up between uneven stones and unruly bushes here and there suggested a long-forgotten attempt at landscaping. Some distance in front of her, there was a rise of stones with what looked like a fountain jetting water. She was going to make it! And the first thing she was going to do was clean herself in that damn water. Then Heather screeched, “Look out!” “On your right!” Horace added. When Evelyn saw the dark shape barreling at her out of the corner of her eye, all she could think to do was to dive into a roll. She was low to the ground when the beast hit her, hairy arms and long talon-like fingers grappling for her. Unable to get a good hold, it rolled past her and quickly sprang back up. Evelyn had rolled into a crouch, her staff raised and ready, and glowered at the beast, getting her first look at the creature. She didn't know what to call it. It looked a bit like a werewolf, but also a bit like an ape. Its arms were long, like an ape's, but its snout was more lupine; its ears were on the side of its head, but pointed, more like a dog's. Its back, as well as the back of its arms and its haunches, were covered with dark brown fur, and its flesh was a much lighter brown. It had hands with long fingers, like a chimp's, but feet more like a human's, though it did have long, hooked toenails, which probably helped it climb over the rocks and walls of the labyrinth. It had fangs and a long tongue that Evelyn could see clearly as it struggled to catch its breath. It looked at her with deep brown eyes. Of course, she also noticed that it had a nice-sized, and very erect, penis of the primate variety. Evelyn spent the second or two she had at her disposal to remember everything she knew about fighting here in Eros, and then the beast was springing at her. Of course, by the time the creature reached the place she'd been, Evelyn had sprung into the air and leapt over it, landing behind it. As he spun around, Evelyn's staff whipped across his snout with a loud crack. A spray of blood and spittle arced after the staff. “No!” Evelyn said, in a very different tone from the one she'd used with the ghosts. There she had mostly been addressing herself. The beast snarled angrily and dove at her again, this time higher. Rolling backward and falling, Evelyn let its outstretched claws fly over her. Then she shoved up with her feet, connecting with the beast's crotch and pushing it up and over. He tumbled past her with a confused yelp, as Evelyn sprang to her feet and spun around to face him. Again, her staff flashed along with her twisting motion, this time connecting with the beast's arm. “No!” she repeated sternly, in the tone of a woman reprimanding a misbehaving dog. Glowering at Evelyn, and rubbing its arm, the beast slowly moved around her, keeping his distance but clearly not leaving anytime soon. She turned with it, watching him warily. When he moved in again, it was much more careful, ready to change direction if his prey moved. When it decided it was close enough, he rushed in trying to catch Evelyn in its arms. Using a move she'd learned in aikido, though, Evelyn easily slipped away and gave the beast a sharp swat on its hairy ass as it blundered past. The creature spun quickly rounding on Evelyn, trying again to catch her again, but she easily ducked under his long arms. She also took advantage of the fact that it was off balance by using her staff to sweep its leg out from it. As it sprawled forward, she again smacked it on the ass, with the staff and quite hard. “No!” she said for the third time. This time, though she found herself smiling a bit. Fear had given way to relief, and thanks in part to the adrenaline certain other things were reasserting themselves. The beast had collected himself and was now watching Evelyn indignantly and rather suspiciously. Apparently, it wasn't used to its prey fighting back so well, if at all. “Are you going to behave?” she asked. It regarded her with a rather clear expression of confusion, but then slowly nodded his head. “Good boy,” she smiled. “If you'll be nice, I might give you a little treat.” The beast cocked his head to the side a bit and visibly relaxed. Keeping her staff in hand and ready, Evelyn took a few steps toward the crouching beast, again noticing its erect cock. When he didn't move away or react aggressively, Evelyn reached slowly out to pet his head and then scratched a bit. The beast responded with something that sounded like a happy murmur. “Good boy,” she said again. Staff still in hand, Evelyn slowly crouched in front of him, looking the beast in the eye. Leaning in a bit, she reached out to lightly touch his cock. The creature breathed a sigh, and Evelyn began to caress it more deliberately. Carefully watching for any sign that the beast would jump her, Evelyn wrapped her hand around his cock and stroked it. Satisfied that the beast was docile enough, Evelyn said, “Lie down.” She nudged him backward until the beast was on his back looking up at Evelyn intently. Moving quickly, she straddled his hairy body and took hold of his cock. “See? If you behave yourself, we can have lots of fun together,” she smiled down at him as she rubbed his cockhead between her rather moist lips. Then she sank down on his thick, hard shaft with a deeply satisfied groan, loving the way his sex filled her. Dropping her staff at last, Evelyn braced her hands on the beast's broad chest and proceeded to slide up and down on his cock. The beast shoved up into her and reached up to hold her waist in its wiry hands. Evelyn leaned back a bit and started squeezing her tits tightly. With the beast's help she slammed herself down on him again and again, grinding her clit against his hairy body with each downward motion. Then she was crying out loudly as she came there, riding the fearsome beast she'd tamed. She shook on top of him, clutching her breasts tightly as her body clenched and pulled at him. As soon as she started to come down, she started moving again. The beast was all too happy to keep fucking her, and when it rolled her over on her back, Evelyn was only too happy to let him drive into her hard and fast. Evelyn's legs wrapped around the beast's furry hips and pulled him in, encouraging him to ravish her. The beast seemed to understand this, or was just following its instinct, because he was fucking her violently, hard, deep and rough. Evelyn cried out incoherently there in the middle of the Dark Labyrinth as she came again and again, until finally the beast's big cock swelled inside her and flooded her pussy with a bucketful of hot cum. “Oh yes! Good boy!” Evelyn called out as she shook with her own orgasm. “Damn!” She felt the beast drawing out of her and a long stream of his cum ran out of her. She smiled to herself and sat up a bit to look at the beast. It was crouched a few feet away, watching her. “Now wasn't that better than fighting?” she asked. When the beast nodded his head rather emphatically, she smiled and said, “Bring that over here. I'm not done with you yet.” In another moment, Evelyn was on her knees sucking on the beast's cock until she was sure he was ready to go again. Then, she walked him over to the steps leading up to the fountain. “Well, that was impressive,” Horace said from a nearby bush. “Enjoy the show?” Evelyn asked wryly. “Quite!” Heather said. “You definitely have charms to soothe the savage beast,” Horace chuckled. “Well, feel free to stick around and watch,” Evelyn laughed. Laying down on her belly on the edge of a stone riser, Evelyn had the beast take her from behind. He shoved into her hard, and Evelyn found herself enjoying the way the stone felt as it rubbed against her belly and tits. She worked her arm down between her body and the stone to stroke her clit as the beast fucked her relentlessly. Soon she was coming again, crying out partly for the benefit of the watching falcons but mostly because she was enjoying making a spectacle of herself, being fucked there by the wild beast. Only after she'd had several very satisfying orgasms, did Evelyn have him stop so she could turn around on the stone so she could look up at him as he fucked her. There was something so wildly, insanely decadent about having this wild thing mate with her, and Evelyn was happily surprised to find out how very into this she was. Soon she was coming yet again, clenching and groaning on his cock. Before Evelyn was quite done riding the waves of her climax, she could tell he was about to come again. She managed to push him back and pulled his cock to her mouth. Wrapping both her hands tightly around his shaft, and sucking on the fat head, she milked at him until she felt him swelling in her grasp. Then with a deep groan, the beast came for her. A huge gout of cum erupted into Evelyn's mouth and down her throat, but there was much too much for her to swallow and most of it spilled out of her mouth. Then a second spasm shook the beast and another deluge of cum splashed all over her face, throat, and tits. Laughing, and wiping some cum from her eyes, Evelyn smiled up at the beast and said, “Good boy. Now, help me up to that fountain so I can get cleaned up.” She heard Horace saying, “I'm telling you, honey, mammal sex is hot!” “Shut up, fool,” Heather laughed. “I wasn't arguing with you.” As soon as the cool water hit her, Evelyn found herself back on the grand porch in front of the Hall of the Crimson Mountain King. She was still rather drenched in the beast's cum. “Fuckers,” she breathed, and headed off to the showers. Chapter 10. The Lighted Stage & a Familiar Face “So, after she got one hundred men to cum for her, Evelyn had to make it to the center of something called the ‘Dark Labyrinth,'” Don continued. “She made friends with a pair of talking falcons, met some mermaids & mermen, answered a sphinx's riddles, and had sex with ‘ghosts.'” Toshia laughed, “You're moving way too fast!” With a smile, Don said, “Yeah, but it's her story to tell and we're running out of time.” “I suppose that's fair.” “But, I will tell you, she was being stalked by a 'beast' that sounds like a combination of an ape and a werewolf. She fought it off, got it to behave, and fucked it.” “Whoa!” “Yeah, it reminded me of your encounter with the Bull, only more violent.” “Sounds hot,” Toshia smiled. “That was my reaction, too.” “That's pretty fucking hot!” Don grinned at Evelyn. It had gotten dark while she was telling her story there by the poolside. “Yeah, I thought so too,” she laughed. “While I got cleaned up, I kept thinking about the whole thing and got pretty riled up again. When I got out of the shower, I threw myself into the big orgy for a couple of hours. Then, I went straight up to the council. I had cum running down the insides of my legs and drying all over my ass, tits, and face, but no one said a word or even seemed to notice.” Don laughed, “How did you keep a straight face?” “It wasn't easy,” she winked. “They gave me my next mission, which did not involve being teleported away. So, I went back out, rode the couch down, and got cleaned up before heading out. I was able to grab my clothes, too.” “Nice! So, what is your next mission?” “I'm on a pilgrimage to the Grove of Rati.” “Ah?” “Yeah, I don't know where it is, either, but the council gave me this compass to point me in the right direction,” she drew a small device from the pocket of her skirt and passed it to Don. “They said it points in the right direction.” “Well, that's handy,” Don said as he examined what did, indeed, look just like a normal compass, but had no cardinal or degree markings. “I have to get there on my own power: no riverboats, ships, or flying carpets. 'Can't even ride piggy-back.” Don passed the compass back and asked, “How long do you have?” “As long as it takes, I guess,” Evelyn shrugged. “I got the impression they think it will take quite a while.” “That sucks,” he frowned. “Yeah, but you're stuck here for a year, anyway, right?” “True.” “And just think of all the stories I'll have when I get back,” she smiled. “Yeah, that's true, too,” Don nodded. “Still, I'm going to miss you.” She kissed him and said, “I'll miss you, too, lover. I'll come back here as soon as I can.” “Okay, yeah, let's meet here at the Resort, poolside, as soon as we have some freedom.” “Deal! Stick to the other protocols but come back here when we get the chance.” “It's a good place to wait,” Don smiled. “You might not feel that way at the end of the year,” Evelyn pointed out. “Now, you said you had something in mind for tonight?” “I did,” nodded Don. “Did you get a chance to try the Lighted Stage while you were here before?” “I went in and looked around, but I didn't play there.” “I was thinking it was perfect for our particular situation,” he smiled. “Oh, good thinking. Let's go!” Evelyn grinned as she took his hand and led the way. “I don't remember the Lighted Stage,” Toshia frowned. “Yeah, it's past the Temple, in a corner we never got to. It's basically an exhibitionist and voyeur club. It's not much to look at on the outside, except that there are four video screens on the main wall that show some of what's going on inside. Anyway, when you go in, there are two doors - one labeled 'players' and the other labeled 'audience.' On the first one, it also says, 'All playing should be done on one of the stages,' and on the second it says, 'No playing with anyone in the audience, just yourself. Enjoy the show!'” “Oh, nice! It does sound perfect.” “Yeah, that's what I was thinking,” Don laughed. “Naturally, I went to the audience side, but I've been in the other part. There's a nice lounge there, where players can get cleaned up, have a bite to eat and something to drink, and find playmates. Oh, and there is a costume room, too, so they can roleplay appropriate to the stage they select, if they want to.” “Damn,” Toshia breathed. “I wish we'd tried that.” Don chuckled and continued, “That evening I went to the audience side, which is like a dimly lit club. There are comfortable chairs and benches, waiters moving around with drinks, and discrete stacks of towels here and there. The one side, though, is made up of seven stages - really just one-room sets - four on the bottom row and three above them. There is a balcony on the audience side so you can get a better view of the action on the second floor. The lighting is set up so that the stages are well-lit, but you can't really see the audience side people too clearly unless you really try.” “What kind of sets?” “They might change now and then, but one's got mirrors on all three walls and a big round bed in the middle that's constantly turning, very slowly. Another's set up like a honeymoon suite, all in red and pink. There's a locker room, an S&M dungeon, a cheap motel room, and one that looks like a pretty dirty bus stop. My favorite, though, is one that looks like a living room from the '70s. There's something so funny about that one, but it's sexy too… like, oh, sex is just happening here in the living room. Well, I think it's sexy.” Toshia smiled and said, “No, I get it.” “On the player's side, the door to each set has three lights over it, green, yellow, and red, and the players switch them appropriately. Green means the stage is completely free; yellow means it's being used but people should feel free to join in; and red means it's being used but they don't want anyone else joining in. I'm told hardly anyone uses the red light, but it does happen.” “I suppose people might have a particular scenario they want to play out,” Toshia mused. “Exactly,” Don smiled. “Anyway, it was already a pretty busy night when we got there. All but one of the stages was already being used.” As Don waited for Evelyn to make an appearance on one of the seven stages, he idly surveyed the other shows. Along the bottom row of stages, working from right to left: in the dungeon scene there was a naked man suspended by his wrists from a ring in the ceiling as a woman in leather alternated between spanking his ass with a big black paddle and teasing his very erect penis with her hand, as well as a young woman in a set of stocks who was being tormented by an older man doing things to her from behind; in the living room were three couples who seemed to be living out a rather enthusiastic swinger scene from a porno; on the big round revolving bed there seemed to be something just short of a dozen naked bodies thoroughly enjoying themselves; and on a bare mattress in the bus stop set three men were enthusiastically fucking and sucking each other. Don climbed the stairs up to the balcony and saw that five women were putting on a very appealing show in the big, central, honeymoon suite, and a woman wearing a cheerleader outfit was surrounded by five rather fit men in the locker room over to the right. Only the cheap motel set, on the left, was unused, so Don settled in to wait directly across from that, leaning on the balcony railing. From that position, as well as seeing much of what was going on down below, Don could watch the women in the honeymoon set, which made it quite easy to wait for Evelyn to turn up. Eventually, the motel room door opened, and Evelyn came in, followed by her two playmates. Evelyn was now wearing a bright pink tube top, a red miniskirt, fishnet stockings and stiletto heels. She had applied dark red lipstick and some serious eye shadow. Her two companions, a woman with black hair drawn back in a bun and a tall older man with blond hair, were dressed in surprisingly modest clothing, particularly for Eros. The woman was wearing a blouse and skirt and relatively low high-heels, and the man was wearing loafers, slacks, and a button-down shirt. Don immediately surmised that Evelyn was playing the role of a streetwalker picked up by a couple looking to spice up their relationship. Evelyn directed the man to have a seat in the chair in the corner, as she drew the woman with her to the bed. She got up on her knees on the bed and turned to face the woman, who she drew in for a long, deep kiss. Evelyn's hands moved over the woman's body, groping her through her clothes before she began to undress her. Evelyn pushed the woman's blouse down over her shoulders and promptly lowered her mouth to the newly exposed breasts. Don watched from his place at the balcony, as Evelyn eventually went back to making out with her new friend and then quickly removed her tank top, tossing it to the side, and then held the woman's head to her breast. Evelyn smiled over at the man in his chair, who so far seemed perfectly content to watch the two women. Only when Evelyn had stripped the woman of her skirt, and gotten rid of her own miniskirt, but left on her stockings and heels, did she beckon the man to join the women where they were sitting on the edge of the bed. Taking the lead again, Evelyn undid the man's pants and drew out his penis. Soon, she and the other woman were taking turns sucking and licking at what quickly became a long and very thick cock. Don watched as Evelyn tried to get as much of that monster as she could down her throat and then encouraged the other woman to do the same. Pushing the woman's head down on his fat organ, Evelyn smiled up at the man and said something the audience couldn't hear. Soon, with four feminine hands wrapped around his shaft, the man was spraying a shower of cum all over the women's faces and tits. Evelyn sucked on his head, apparently draining him of any remaining jizz, as the other woman licked up any cum on his shaft and balls. Evelyn said something else to the man, who smiled and nodded before stripping out of his clothes as he moved back to the chair to wait his turn again. Meanwhile, Evelyn had turned to the woman and proceeded to lick and suck up every bit of cum she could find. The woman returned the favor and the two of them eventually were lying on the bed making out intently. Evelyn gradually began to make her way down the woman's body, until she was half off the bed, going down on the woman, who definitely seemed to be enjoying what Evelyn was doing. Don was enjoying watching the woman writhing on the bed as Evelyn lay between her legs. His cock was rock hard in front of him, but he made a point of not touching it yet. The man whose cock was apparently quite ready for round two got up and crossed over to the bed, where he encouraged Evelyn to raise herself up until she was bent over at the end of the bed, her ass in the air while her face was still buried between the other woman's legs. Bending his legs and pushing his cock down, the man was soon fucking in and out of Evelyn, his hands on her hips pulling her back on him and shoving her forward into the woman on the bed. Don found himself entranced by the line of Evelyn's stockinged leg, stretching from her ankle there above that long heel up along her strong calf, along the line of her firm thigh as it flexed slowly while she was fucked, to her tight ass as the man

In this week's episode of The Pro Audio Suite, we've got something right out of left field! Our guest, Matt Cowlrick, an Aussie voice actor living in Canada, has done something pretty remarkable—transforming his Tesla into a rolling recording studio. Yes, you heard that right! Tune in as Matt reveals how he converted his Tesla into an innovative mobile recording space, complete with a built-in mic stand. Hear about the nuts and bolts of mobile recording setups, from the gear choices to the unique challenges of recording in a car. Matt shares his experience using the Mic Port Pro 2 and a Sennheiser 416, all rigged up to record straight onto his iPhone with Twisted Wave. We dive deep into the acoustic challenges of a car's interior, particularly a Tesla's glass-heavy design, and Matt's creative solutions involving pillows and moving blankets to achieve the best sound. For those who can't wait to see it in action, Matt has also shared a video tour of his Tesla studio on our website. Check out this link to watch the magic happen: Matt's Tesla Studio Tour Join us as we explore how necessity drives innovation and how you can apply some of these tricks to your own mobile recording endeavors. A big shout out to our sponsors, Austrian Audio and Tri Booth. Both these companies are providers of QUALITY Audio Gear (we wouldn't partner with them unless they were), so please, if you're in the market for some new kit, do us a solid and check out their products, and be sure to tell em "Robbo, George, Robert, and AP sent you"... As a part of their generous support of our show, Tri Booth is offering $200 off a brand-new booth when you use the code TRIPAP200. So get onto their website now and secure your new booth... https://tribooth.com/ And if you're in the market for a new Mic or killer pair of headphones, check out Austrian Audio. They've got a great range of top-shelf gear..  https://austrian.audio/ We have launched a Patreon page in the hopes of being able to pay someone to help us get the show to more people and in turn help them with the same info we're sharing with you. If you aren't familiar with Patreon, it's an easy way for those interested in our show to get exclusive content and updates before anyone else, along with a whole bunch of other "perks" just by contributing as little as $1 per month. Find out more here..   https://www.patreon.com/proaudiosuite     George has created a page strictly for Pro Audio Suite listeners, so check it out for the latest discounts and offers for TPAS listeners. https://georgethe.tech/tpas If you haven't filled out our survey on what you'd like to hear on the show, you can do it here: https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/ZWT5BTD Join our Facebook page here: https://www.facebook.com/proaudiopodcast And the FB Group here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/357898255543203 For everything else (including joining our mailing list for exclusive previews and other goodies), check out our website https://www.theproaudiosuite.com/ “When the going gets weird, the weird turn professional.” Hunter S Thompson Y'all ready to be history? Get started. Welcome. Hi.   Hi. Hi. Hello, everyone.   To the pro audio suite. These guys are professional, they're motivated. (0:09) Thanks to Tribooth, the best vocal booths for home or on the road voice recording.   And Austrian Audio, making passion heard. Introducing Robert Marshall from Source Elements and someone audio post Chicago. (0:22) Darren Robert Robertson from Voodoo Radio Imaging.   Sitnik to the VO stars. George the Tech Whittem from LA. And me, Andrew Pinkers, voiceover talent and home studio guy.   (0:37) And welcome to another pro audio suite. Thanks to Tribooth, the golden handcuffs can be removed. And Austrian Audio, making passion heard. (0:44) Today, we have a special guest. Matt Calrich is joining us because Matt and I've been having a little conversation about setting up a rig in your car, which was something I played around with a few weeks ago now. (0:56) But Matt, you've done your thing as well.   What have you done? (0:59) Well, I changed it up from what I've done in the past, which quickly is using the Apollo Solo and a laptop and usually the 416. (1:11) Now for being at home in Canada and not actually, you know, traveling on holiday, I just wanted to have something easy to get going at any given moment, just pull over on the side of the road. (1:25) And so I use the Mic Port Pro 2, still the 416, and recording on the iPhone.   So just really nimble and mobile. (1:36) Are you using Twisted Wave on your mobile? Yes. Yes, until further notice.   (1:43) Yours is very similar to mine because that was my experiment with the iPhone 15 because it's got the USB-C and using the Twisted Wave app. It's fantastic. (1:53) And you can actually use their kind of Twisted Wave Dropbox as well off the iPhone, which is really, really handy.   (2:00) But the only difference between you and I, I think, is that you use the 416 and I've been playing around with the CC8 from Austrian Audio. (2:07) Well, he uses the 416 and you use the 416 sometimes and now. (2:15) And the other big difference is that you have a Tesla, which has a lot of glass.   (2:21) Has that become an issue for you? (2:23) Yeah, well, I'm still still in the early days of, you know, finding my feet with it. (2:27) I only set up this new rig, so to speak, on the weekend, got all the required parts, which was the idea of being able to have a mount in the car that I can just attach the mic and the... (2:43) How did you feel about drilling into your Tesla or is that glued in there? (2:46) I didn't. It's glued.   And I also just kind of drive my Tesla like a piece of shit. So I don't really care. (2:54) I just drive it like a car, so sticking something on the inside.   (2:58) It's not precious. It is no longer precious. It is now a utility vehicle and it's used for what it was designed for.   (3:06) Yeah. I mean, let's be honest, putting double sided adhesive tape on the inside of my Tesla is probably not the worst thing that I've done to it. (3:13) So you're not going to mount a M49 from that thing.   (3:18) Since it's now technically a recording studio, does that mean your car's a tax deduction? (3:21) You say that like I don't already try to claim as much as I can. (3:29) Yeah, that's a good point, Robert. Yeah, I wonder how much else I can squeeze out.   (3:32) Yeah, exactly. My new recording studio just happens to be on four wheels, that's all. (3:36) Yeah, exactly.   (3:37) Hey, if anyone can play it, George, if you can, I don't know. Now would probably be a good time to have a listen to the audio, Matt Sentis. (3:45) I can do playback over here if I... (3:46) Can you? Okay, yeah, cool.   (3:47) Okay, here's me recording in the car on a 416, the Mic Port Pro 2. (3:57) There's a windsock on the mic and there's a pretty significant humming sound, which I'm sure you can hear. (4:08) That's the car. I don't know how to turn it off.   It's an electric car, so that's something to work with. (4:16) But the setup is nice and it's convenient, so now I just have to work on... (4:24) And so here's the treated one. (4:26) But the setup is nice and it's convenient, so now I just have to work on fixing things, like the car sound and the whirring.   (4:40) But I like the concept. I just have to try to get it sounding as good as possible. (4:47) So I'm guessing you were pretty close to the mic there.   (4:50) Yeah, pretty close. And then what I added later was a pillow in one take and then I brought in a moving blanket on the other. (5:06) But I was pretty close to try and offset the carriness.   (5:11) Were you putting the pillow behind you someplace? (5:14) The pillow was wedged. It was two pillows actually, because they were small pillows. (5:18) Wedged in the front screen.   And then the moving blanket I had just draped over me like a villain. (5:31) It was not comfortable, but more for like a testing perspective to see what had changed. (5:37) Do you have one without all that extra stuff? (5:39) That was the first one.   They're remarkably similar. (5:44) You know what makes me laugh though is if this takes off, if this becomes a trend, you'll be able to go to the local mall and realise who's a voice-over artist and who's not because the car of the voice-over artist is going to have blankets and pillows (5:56) and cut those one on the back seat. (5:58) Although they're just living in their car, which is an understatement.   (6:00) Yeah, exactly. (6:02) And a really weird iPhone mount for a stick. (6:05) Yes.   (6:07) It's going to look entirely nefarious. (6:10) I love the gooseneck attached to the ceiling. (6:13) Finding adhesive that would mount that strongly enough to hold the weight of the mic and the mic port and the gooseneck itself.   (6:20) It's a decent amount of weight. (6:23) Do you put the mic port right on the mic port? Do you use a little adapter like we got for like Andrew got? (6:31) Oh no, I just assumed that Andrew's was directly plugged in. (6:36) No, I think the 416 and the 41.6 and the OC8, they're all too thick at the base to fit into the newer mic port.   (6:44) The 41.6 fits and the NTG5 fits. (6:50) And only the OC8. (6:52) The CC8 does not.   (6:53) Sorry, CC8. What a stroke of work. (6:56) And I also have the Rode NTG5, which Andrew and I were talking about when I was in Australia.   (7:02) And so I'd be interested to try that in the same situation. (7:06) I used the NTG5 in the back of my car, the first test I did before the CC8 got here. (7:12) And yeah, it sounded great.   (7:13) You probably get the same result as the 41.6, I would suggest. (7:17) There's a bit more bottom end to it. That's the only thing.   (7:20) I also found the NTG5, it seemed more sensitive than the 416. (7:29) I don't know. (7:30) Oh yeah.   (7:31) It has a much higher output. (7:33) No, because I was in Mexico hanging out with Dustin Eboar. (7:39) And we had my tri-boot there and kind of our gear combined.   (7:43) And we tried both the 41.6 and the NTG5 with exactly the same gear, just switching the mic. (7:53) And it was quite different. (7:55) Yeah, yeah, yeah.   (7:56) That's a huge amount of output on the NTG5. (7:59) Right. (7:59) My NTG5 is at the mailbox waiting to be picked up because they replaced it.   (8:04) Oh wow, that's cool. (8:06) I'm the only one left with one that didn't blow up, I think. (8:09) Mine blew up? (8:10) Yeah, mine didn't blow up.   (8:14) No. (8:15) Don't use it. It won't blow up.   (8:18) I had a sphere mic blow up in Australia. (8:22) Yeah, I took it all the way to Australia thinking how great it was going to be having that mic with me. (8:28) And then I got there and was absolutely perplexed for a while why it wasn't working.   (8:32) And it turned out to be a busted capsule. (8:34) And this was a brand new sphere. (8:35) You know the problem with that, mate.   (8:36) It was actually a northern hemisphere and you're in the southern hemisphere. (8:41) That was the problem. (8:42) Oh my God.   (8:44) You are, I will. (8:47) David Kay traveled with the sphere to Japan, you know. (8:50) And I just thought it was risky because it is a much more fragile mic than any small diaphragm, you know, shotgun or pencil mic, you know.   (8:58) Small diaphragm, shotguns, and pencils are a much, much better travel mic companion. (9:03) Well, the shotguns are made for like, you know, like one of the things about the 416 is go record in the wind. (9:09) Well, in a rainforest.   (9:10) In a rain, right. (9:11) You can take a 46 in a rainforest. (9:14) Right.   (9:14) Because it's working like as a RF microphone instead of directing it off the... (9:20) Yeah. (9:21) Well, as does the NTG-5, you know. (9:23) The NTG-5 is RF? (9:24) Yeah.   (9:25) Really? (9:26) So any mic with an RF design is basically completely impervious to moisture. (9:33) Yeah. (9:34) So that's why they're used.   (9:36) But as for the capsule blowing up, what was the outcome? (9:39) Is that mic still sitting in the box or... (9:43) Yeah, I haven't replaced it yet because replacing it in Australia when it was all happening was just silly business. (9:49) So I've waited until I go back to Canada and then promptly didn't do it. (9:54) It is a secondary sphere because I recently got a new Apollo unit and they threw in one of the new ones for free.   (10:03) And I thought... (10:04) Oh, was it the DX? (10:05) Yeah. (10:06) They threw in the small one? (10:08) Yeah. (10:08) So it's a bit small.   (10:09) How do you find it compares? (10:10) It has less of a capsule working. (10:14) I like the smaller size. (10:17) I mean, it's not hugely noticeable, but yeah, I'm excited to try it.   (10:22) Oh, so the one that you traveled with was this new smaller addition. (10:26) Yeah. (10:27) Yeah.   (10:28) And I have a pretty good travel bag. (10:30) Like, I hear you on the durability of those large diaphragm mics. (10:35) But yeah, I've managed to find this.   (10:39) It's a camera bag and it's got a good hard shell and it's a backpack. (10:44) And to the chagrin of my engineer took an exacto knife and just cut out the foam in the sphere it comes with. (10:56) And I just shoved it in this camera bag and it feels really well protected.   (11:00) But then again, maybe I smashed a capsule when I was traveling and it's not as protected as I thought. (11:07) Oh, any dents? (11:08) No, no dents. (11:10) Is this like the torque? (11:11) I'm expecting them to replace it.   (11:12) Like, it just sounds like vaulty. (11:15) But it'll be interesting because I picked up the different microphones, the ocean way and the main one, I think. (11:22) I did those two.   (11:23) I forget, but... (11:25) The sphere models. (11:25) The sphere models, but I'll just use it with the 818. (11:28) How's that working out? (11:29) I haven't touched it yet.   (11:31) Oh yeah, I haven't even. (11:32) It's just color. (11:33) But I figure it'll just be, you know, like color, you know, even if the sphere mics are somehow accurate.   (11:38) I would imagine. (11:39) I mean, that is something we have not done yet. (11:41) We haven't done an OC818 versus sphere mic sound.   (11:45) You know, how do they sound compared to each other? (11:48) How different is the OC818 through the sphere 47? (11:53) Right. (11:53) Can you swap in an OC818 if you don't have a sphere or you just don't want to bring the sphere because it's so physically large? (12:02) Can you just plug it in, you know? (12:04) It would work with any truly dual output large diaphragm mic, you would think. (12:10) Yeah, because there's a couple others out there.   (12:12) Not that many, but Sennheiser has the new MKH. (12:15) I think it's the Assault at NAB. (12:18) I believe it's called the 800.   (12:20) And it's a dual output mic. (12:22) And then Aladdin has one, and Pearl has one. (12:26) It's becoming a thing.   (12:27) It is. (12:28) I was thinking that when they can get them to the size of something like, you know, an NTG5 and shorter, (12:34) that'll be a huge game changer to have a modeling mic that you can travel with, (12:38) especially if it has the tech that the sphere has where you can kind of mitigate problems with the room in real time with those sets. (12:47) Oh, the sphere has like the reflection filter built in.   (12:50) George can probably explain it better than I can. (12:52) Yeah, I don't get it. (12:54) Oh, yeah.   (12:54) Well, they have a set of these filters in the sphere plug-in itself that are designed to compensate for acoustical flaws. (13:06) With using those reflections. (13:08) Okay, that's what it's for.   (13:09) And so they're just little curves they came up with. (13:14) But they made it very user friendly. (13:16) Instead of having it be a variable knob, you know, (13:19) they just have a whole bunch of like, click on this picture.   (13:22) If it looks kind of like what you're sitting in front of, then try this. (13:26) Which is cool because it's just one less thing to have to think about. (13:31) But the thing is, there's just a setting for booth.   (13:34) Which clearly is not going to work because everybody's booth is a different size. (13:38) Although I'd love to see the EQ curve for the chaotic eyeball. (13:46) Well, I did look at the MKH 800 Twin, it's called, the 800 Twin.   (13:52) And it's a bit spendy at $3,200. (13:55) But if you want a very small two capsule microphone to travel with, that one could fill the bill. (14:01) It is very small.   (14:03) A very old microphone that few people know about is the Neumann KM86. (14:09) It's a small diaphragm or smallish diaphragm. (14:12) But dual-sided, full polar pattern selection.   (14:17) It looks like a tiny U87, I think, kind of thing. (14:22) I believe, if I remember right. (14:24) But it's a small diaphragm, multi-pattern.   (14:24) It looks like a German hand-grinder. That's what it looks like. (14:27) The KM86.   (14:29) But it's a multi-pattern small diaphragm. (14:31) So you could, if someone modded it to have more than one output. (14:34) Well, have you thought about, or even wanting to bother with using... (14:38) Did you say you tried using your Sphere Apollo combo in your Tesla or in your car? (14:44) You've done that now or in the past? (14:46) Not in the Tesla.   (14:49) Yeah, I have taken the Sphere and a Solo. (14:54) And my laptop is the travel rig to Australia. (14:58) You did that in the Ferrari, right? (15:01) Or was it the Lamborghini? I can't remember which one? (15:03) Yeah, the Ferrari has this humming noise thing all the time.   (15:07) I guess it just does that. (15:08) And unfortunately, the people at the dealership didn't like it, (15:11) that I took my gear and just sat in their car and started taking photos. (15:16) I wasn't pretty sure for some reason.   (15:20) Nor the guy whose Tesla I stole this afternoon. (15:26) And glued a mouth-mouth. (15:30) The only thing the guy did is he glued this thing.   Is it attractive? (15:33) I brought him some alcohol swabs. He'll be right. (15:37) I've worked out what the humming noise is in the Tesla.   (15:40) Oh, really? (15:40) It's the Musk hydroponic mode. You've got to turn that off. (15:46) I drove on in the screw mode.   (15:48) I think Robert's on the hydroponic mode right at the moment. (15:51) I am. Hold on.   (15:54) Fantastic. (15:55) Well, I was asking because I rigged it up for David Kay. (15:59) We did the Sphere on a mount arm.   (16:02) I got him this crazy over-engineered cobbled-together arm. (16:06) It's basically, if anybody from lighting knows what a baby arm is. (16:10) But it's basically, you know, it's an arm with a clamp on each end.   (16:14) So one clamp clamps to the steering wheel or a yoke or whatever it is in that car. (16:19) And then the mic mounts to that. (16:21) And it also has a place to mount your phone or tablet to read your script.   (16:26) And that whole thing rigs off your steering wheel with that huge mic. (16:29) And then we put the mic sideways. (16:30) That's what we found worked best was, because it's so large, (16:33) to get the capsule in the ideal spot.   (16:36) We just have it literally sideways. (16:39) And he's running a U67 model. (16:42) Because that's the mic he would typically use at home.   (16:45) And the clients were more happy with it. (16:47) I was amazed. (16:48) I didn't think it was going to work with that.   (16:50) Because we didn't put a pillow or anything up against the windscreen. (16:54) And it worked out. (16:55) And that's a Model X, which is physically larger inside.   (16:58) So that helps. (16:59) I don't know if it's because the windshield is so long. (17:02) Because the windshield is facing down.   (17:05) It's not really facing you. (17:06) It's not going to hit the microphone. (17:07) Exactly.   (17:08) The sound is going to go down to the dash. (17:12) It's directly behind and directly in front of the mic. (17:15) I would think that's the first sort of issue.   (17:19) I guess with my setup that I did most recently in the Tesla, (17:22) I am more like talking across to the passenger seat, (17:26) rather than directly at the windshield. (17:30) So pillows stuffed into the windshield opposite the mic. (17:35) Yeah.   (17:35) That would be one spot. (17:37) And I was thinking of taking some of the tri-booth blankets (17:41) and hanging them from the coat hooks (17:47) or the handlebars on the side (17:50) and seeing how that works out. (17:52) They're quite long though, the tri-booth ones.   (17:55) Yeah, they're big. (17:56) You could nail gun them to the roof. (18:00) Or staple them or something.   (18:02) Super glue. (18:04) 3M will just laugh gleefully as they see me coming. (18:09) Some of these guys send me sticky squares.   (18:12) But it's funny, isn't it? (18:12) How different your environment in the Tesla is to my car, (18:16) which is a smaller car, two doors, tiny in the back. (18:20) And I just squeeze in the back because I've got my glass roof. (18:24) So I don't have to worry about that.   (18:26) How the Vespa setup worked? (18:29) It's hard getting your head under the seat. (18:32) But I'm working on that. (18:35) No glass roof to worry about.   (18:37) Yeah, you're starting with a difficult proposition with the glass ceiling, aren't you? (18:43) It's a killer to begin with. (18:45) So what do you do to the audio after you record raw files? (18:48) And do you just raw record raw files and send? (18:51) Or do you do any cleanup? (18:53) Well, yeah, herein lies the problem that I don't have access to a door. (18:58) It's just Twisted Wave Mobile.   (19:02) But I also tried to think about what I actually wanted this setup to do or to achieve. (19:08) And it really is just for the ants in the pants stuff that people can't wait for, (19:15) and for auditions and quick turnaround jobs. (19:17) But when I'm here in Victoria, and I'm not at my home studio, (19:23) I'm about a 40-minute drive to downtown.   (19:26) And in downtown Victoria, I do have a small commercial studio that I own. (19:32) And it has a StudioBricks in there. (19:34) So it's not too far to get to either one of those.   (19:37) So I didn't want to go overboard with the car rig. (19:43) And if I'm proper traveling, then I'm usually taking the Triboose. (19:47) But also, to be fair, mate, as an engineer, (19:49) I'm guessing Robert would agree with me on this.   (19:51) He said, if you sent me that file, I'd have no issue. (19:55) Sure. (19:55) Yeah, I'd have no problem.   (19:56) Even with that hum, Cevox seemed to take it out pretty well. (20:02) I don't know how much artifact do you got after that. (20:07) It wasn't too artifacty, yeah.   (20:09) The twist of a knob on clarity, that'd be gone. (20:12) So really, that's no issue. (20:13) Yeah, absolutely.   (20:14) That's another good question, because I was talking to a client about Cevox today. (20:18) And I said, you know, Cevox does make it sound really good to you. (20:21) The question I guess I have, really, is does it make it sound good to the engineer? (20:26) And how much time, I mean, Robbo and Robert, (20:28) how much have you heard audio through Cevox that you've received on your end? (20:33) If I've gotten it, I don't know that I've gotten it.   (20:35) I wouldn't know. (20:37) It's pretty transparent. (20:40) It is really transparent.   (20:42) That is the magic of that plugin. (20:44) If you go all the way to the walls, you might start picking up some, you know, go 100%. (20:49) You might pick up some very small artifacts, but it's amazingly transparent.   (20:55) Yeah, and more dynamic outside sounds as well. (21:00) I was recording at my parents' house in Australia, (21:04) and some inconsiderate person was mowing their lawn. (21:10) So like the one of your parents? (21:12) Yeah, one of my parents.   (21:16) And yeah, Cevox really made a pretty good show of the recording, (21:23) even with it kind of like moving around different areas. (21:25) I guess like a mower is still that, you know, lower frequency. (21:31) It's kind of droning.   (21:32) Yeah, and it's a consistent sound that's easier to hear. (21:34) There's not too much doppler with it unless you have like the fancy writing lawn mower. (21:40) There is two laws in life that if you wash your car, it will rain.   (21:44) And if you open a microphone, the neighbors are going to start doing something noisy. (21:48) So, you know, it's two guarantees in life, right? (21:51) That's right. (21:54) Have you ever had anyone pick up? (21:56) Are you putting anything across their audio? (21:58) No, not for a long time.   (22:00) Even running the modeling preamps in the Apollo unit, I keep it all very sparing. (22:08) I just want to get the color and the tone of the preamp and just bring in that difference (22:15) rather than engaging any of the hectic EQ or compression. (22:23) I like to think that I follow a lot of the principles of what you guys say on this show.   (22:27) Just keep it simple, send it on clean, and start with a really good bass. (22:32) Obviously, that's harder to do in the car and when we're traveling, (22:35) but I still just try to... (22:38) When I travel, I want to as closely mirror what I have here as possible. (22:44) Which is tricky.   (22:45) You're not running through like a bunch of boutique outboard gear at home. (22:52) And the preamp is just the Apollo pre, right? (22:56) This is Solo or...? (22:57) That's right, yeah. (22:58) Yeah, I have all Apollo units.   (23:00) I used to have a 6176, the UAD, the numbers are right. (23:07) Yeah, I had that and I ended up selling it because it felt like too many moving parts (23:15) and modeling it in the Apollo unit was so impressive that I felt like I'm going to sell this thing. (23:22) So are you using more than just the mic models? Are you using the preamp models as well? (23:26) Yeah.   (23:27) Actually, at the moment, I'm just using the twin preamp. (23:32) But generally, I will run... (23:35) I'll do a lot of my recording on the sphere and either... (23:41) What's your go-to emulation on the sphere? What sort of default? (23:45) The 416. (23:47) And then I have a couple that I dial into for different types of reads.   (23:53) Like if I'm doing trailer or something grittier. (23:58) You know how they came with some presets from Jordan Reynolds made some and then Brent Allen-Hagel? (24:05) Yeah, I heard that. (24:05) Yeah, I like one that Brent did for trailers and it's actually a combo.   (24:13) I suppose I can switch to it now. (24:17) By the way, how they got onto the preset list of that company, I'm wondering... (24:22) It pulled that off. (24:25) Because I've been dealing with them for so many years and I've never gotten anything like that.   (24:31) That's crazy. (24:32) I'm not jealous. (24:32) No, I'm just very glad that service is available.   (24:35) I would like to see you on that. (24:37) At least he's given away his presets for free. (24:41) Yeah, well, I mean, no props to them.   (24:43) I think it's cool that they're available. (24:46) What's something you're using? (24:48) This is the trailer setting from Brent Allen-Hagel and I don't actually know the proper brands (24:56) because they can't list it, but it's the LD800. (25:01) So that's the Sony? (25:02) But then it's combined with the 47K.   (25:07) So you have 47K caps, I guess, something like that? (25:10) Yeah, the K47, is it? (25:12) K47? (25:13) That's cool. (25:14) So that's what we're hearing now? (25:16) Yeah, that's right. (25:16) And I should be... (25:17) I think I'm printing this.   (25:18) Yeah, yeah. (25:19) Yeah, it riches... (25:20) It riches... (25:21) Richens in Richens? (25:23) That's it. (25:23) Adds more richness.   (25:25) Have you taken the 416-416, put it in the second channel with no preamp or no emulation (25:32) and just put it right next to this one and record the exact same thing? (25:37) I have meant to try that. (25:38) No, I haven't yet. (25:40) But to my ears, my simpleton ears, they are really, really close.   (25:45) And I do have two 416s, obviously the one that's in the car now. (25:52) And I have a sentimental 416, which I'll never sell. (25:58) But I mostly am using the 416 setting on the sphere.   (26:02) And then I have a U87 AI just next to me here. (26:07) And I've hung on to that mostly for workflow purposes. (26:11) I kind of have one mic that is hooked up for, I guess, like quick auditions and quick rip (26:21) and reads.   (26:22) And then I have this sphere that I'm talking to you guys on. (26:26) It's over here with a music stand looking out the window. (26:30) It's just like a nice little zone.   (26:33) Yeah, big creative spaces. (26:35) We're actually talking about our next episode now, aren't we? (26:38) Oh, sorry. (26:38) We're drifting to the next episode.   (26:38) We have. (26:39) I wonder how they do the polar pattern, because if you think about it, the 416 being a shotgun, (26:48) you can really only get that polar pattern from the physical shape. (26:53) And they can recreate any polar pattern with the large diaphragm.   (26:57) But you'll notice a large diaphragm never has a shotgun. (27:01) I mean, you kind of have a hypercardioid. (27:03) Do you find the 416 emulation to be a little bit more forgiving in the movement, like the polar pattern? (27:13) Can you move around the mic and it doesn't sound quite as phasy and weird? (27:16) Yeah.   (27:16) So I've switched now. (27:18) Now I'm on the 416 emulation. (27:21) I just did the click of the mouse.   (27:24) And it's on... (27:25) Which pattern is it on? (27:29) The cool thing with the... (27:31) It's on cardioid, on a cardioid pattern. (27:34) And now it's on a hypercardioid. (27:38) So now I'm talking off axis.   (27:40) And you can hear how it jumps forward, even on the... (27:44) Put it on an omni. (27:45) Put it on an omni? (27:46) Sure thing. (27:47) There you go.   (27:48) Oh, yeah, there we go. (27:49) So that's omni. (27:50) That's an omni 416.   (27:52) Anybody wonder what that sounds like? (27:54) It's a huge curve of a 416 without the... (27:57) I mean, acoustics in the booth are fantastic. (27:59) So even when you're on the omni, it still sounds really... (28:02) It actually sounds nice. (28:03) Like focused.   (28:03) Yeah, right. (28:04) So here's me kind of doing like direct address. (28:08) My mic is above hanging from the roof and from the ceiling.   (28:15) And it's tilted maybe... (28:19) What is that? (28:21) Forty... (28:21) A little over 40 degrees down towards me. (28:24) More vertical than horizontal? (28:27) Or more horizontal? (28:28) More vertical than horizontal, I would say. (28:30) Oh, okay.   (28:32) Interesting. (28:33) Yeah. (28:33) That's a pretty steep angle.   (28:34) Yeah, I've been meaning to play around with it. (28:36) Just to see what different sounds I get out. (28:38) This one is set up partially for... (28:42) Yeah, the way I am at the music stand, (28:44) although I guess I could change it.   (28:46) But then the U87 that I have just over here is... (28:51) That's more horizontal than vertical. (28:54) I think it just shows how the room acoustics are. (28:57) So important.   (28:58) So big. (28:59) Because if you'll notice when you switch through those patterns (29:01) and try different mics, they all sound really good. (29:05) So it just comes down to these shades of mauve.   (29:08) Yeah. (29:09) Yeah, yeah, yeah. (29:10) Who consulted on this booth? (29:11) Who was that? (29:12) Oh, I'm not trying to plug myself.   (29:14) No, I'm plugging you. (29:18) But yeah, that is the point. (29:19) I think it would have been funnier if you dogged it.   (29:22) Yeah, exactly. (29:24) Exactly. (29:25) It's just great hearing a booth that I helped design out of... (29:29) Just hearing it years later or months later, whatever.   (29:32) Just hearing it used in this pair of headphones (29:35) that I'm wearing in this situation (29:36) and going, wow, it sounds good in there. (29:39) That's just so important, everybody. (29:40) Get those acoustics nailed (29:42) and then you can really enjoy the variety of microphones.   (29:48) It's like getting a taste for wine (29:50) and now you can enjoy different kinds of wine. (29:52) And I don't have that. (29:55) I do.   (29:55) I'm not saying I do. (29:57) But once you do, then you can enjoy a ton of... #ProAudioSuite #AudioEngineering #VoiceActing #MobileRecording #StudioOnTheGo #TeslaStudio

PREVIEW: #MOLDOVA: Conversation with colleague Josh Rogin of the Washington Post regarding the warning from the Foreign Minister of Moldova that his tiny country in the Danube River valley, wedged between Ukraine and Romania, is now on the Russian target list to recover the Soviet Empire. More details to follow tonight. 1940 Danube River

Wedged between the two biggest cobbled races in the calendar, the Toms look back on a wet Tour of Flanders and ahead to Paris-Roubaix. Having visited northern France last month, Tom 1 offers his intel on the state of the cobbles. Spoiler: they're not looking good. Music: Acid Trumpet by Kevin MacLeod Link: https://incompetech.filmmusic.io/song/3340-acid-trumpet License: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0

On this episode, we were joined by author Andrew O'Hagan to discuss his truly exciting new novel, Caledonian Road, which has been selected as the Hatchards Fiction Book of the Month for April.Wedged between two epochal events that have shaped our age — the global pandemic and Russia's invasion of Ukraine — the story follows Campbell Flynn, art historian, TV presenter, London resident, and man in free fall, as a web of crime and conspiracy eviscerates his sense of self-identity and redefines what it means to be a “good liberal” at a time where nothing is above scrutiny.Andrew spoke us to about taking inspiration from classic Victorian novels; how his time spent with figures like Julian Assange and South London gangs informs the book's characters; why novelists should write without fear; and as Andrew is Glaswegian, we cover the city's ill-fated “Willy Wonka Experience” that grabbed global headlines back in March.Signed copies of the book are now available to be purchased in-store or on our website. Hosted by Ryan Edgington and Matt Hennessey.---Music from #Uppbeat (free for Creators!):https://uppbeat.io/t/vocalista/in-the-hall-of-the-mountain-king-acapellaLicense code: ARSRS82KANYK7CLW

Hey Duckies, Your favorite duo is coming to you on location at Tampa International Airport. Nicky Trendz and Manny Oso had a wild weekend and couldn't wait to get home to tell you all about, the Gasparilla Pirate Invasion and the WWR Royal Rumble. While waiting for the flight to arrive on a crisp Monday morning, Nicky asked Manny to explain the details. You'll hear she is full of questions because Manny went alone to this massive event. Wedged in the middle of a sold-out section 314, Manny saw the whole thing go down. The people he met, the force of the crowd, seeing the win go to Cody Rhodes, and of course being there to acknowledge The Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns was all something he couldn't stop talking about. Excuse us while Manny geeks out; Nicky keeps asking! But anyway, you tell us: - Have any Big Event travel plans this year? - What's the furthest you've ever traveled for a Premium Live Event? - Should these guys be whispering? It's an airport! Watch the highlights of the Royal Rumble: https://www.youtube.com/watch?si=Q7EZ1KFwjz7vajKL&v=cOdPKrHNTBU&feature=youtu.be To keep up with the Ducks in charge follow: FB & IG: @Bubblebathstories Nicky Trendz IG: @nickyTRENDZ Manny Oso IG: @gotnotime4diss For official Merch head over to Bubblebathstories.co

Welcome to Meatball Salad, the meaty pop culture podcast that keeps it light. What do Ke$ha, Jerry Seinfeld, Kevin McCallister, Shaggy, Selina Meyer, Frank Egglehofer, and Electric Six have in common? They're all responsible for words that have gotten wedged in our brains over the years. We brought in Will Green, a real live comedian and fine Michigander, to talk about the catchy, wordy brainworms that never seem to die. Ways to support Meatball Salad/CRUEL2REWIND: Leave us a review wherever you listen to podcasts Tell us fun things at 929-456-0304 or send us an email Find us on Instagram, Threads, X, and…Tumblr?? @Cruel2Rewind Ways to support Will: Check out his podcast, We Lost a Good One Find him on all the socials @WeLostAGoodOne *This episode originally published in October of 2022*

Rabbi Kaufmann - The Beginning is Wedged in the End by Mayanot

This date in history. Never Have I: Holiday Edition. Work benefits. Chobani buys La Colombe. Which came first? Storm goods. Avoid buying these things at Costco. Wedged between two houses. Entertainment news. No chairs allowed. Watch a Hallmark movie backwards. Jeopardy news. Chocolate lasagna.

We see your money. A confused bird. Shirt sleeve Christmas. Lottery. Leaving it for the gardener. Pet owners buying Christmas gifts. Parking tickets. Most hated holiday candy. Uber Eats stats. Do your favorite snacks taste different? Dancing with the Stars. This date in history. Never Have I: Holiday Edition. Work benefits. Chobani buys La Colombe. Which came first? Storm goods. Avoid buying these things at Costco. Wedged between two houses. Entertainment news.

‘Tis the season for giving.By TheSleepingKing. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.7:16 amThe door from the bathroom swung open, spiling steam into the dim blue rays of light sneaking in through the blinds. Wrapped in a towel, Shauna strode into her dorm room, feet sinking into the carpet as she padded across the floor. Pausing at the window she pulled the cord to raise the blinds, bathing the room in the soft glow of an overcast Michigan dawn.A dusting of snow covered the glazing. About an inch drifted on the ledge outside. Beyond and several stories down a lone figure rounded onto the back straight of the athletic track. Shauna leaned in, her breath fogging the glass. She poked two dots and underlined them with a curve. Smiled at the new face smiling back at her. It was a beautiful Christmas Eve morning.She unhooked the towel and tossed it over the back of the chair parked under the desk. The cool air plucked at her nipples and sapped the heat from her skin. She skimmed her hands around the bulge of her breasts, across her taut tummy and the arc of her ass. Appraising her profile in the mirror she nodded. Spin class and yoga really paid off this year.From the top drawer of the dresser, she picked out white lace panties and drew them up over toned, creamy thighs. She paired them with red and white argyle knee socks and a soft strapless bra. Sifting through the hangers in the closet she settled on a flirty red A-line dress with wide shoulder straps and a length about mid-thigh. Not practical for the weather. But perfect for the mission.7:32 amShe capped the outfit with a fuzzy Santa hat and white-soled black Keds before returning to the mirror. She turned side to side and took a twirl, the dress flaring out before settling over her legs. Certainly the sexiest elf she'd ever seen. She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. She would need to get going soon to make her deliveries. The schedule was tight.On any other Christmas Eve she'd still be asleep; tucked in tight and dead to the world in a quiet corner of her parents' six-bedroom McMansion in Traverse City. She'd get up around 10:00, meet her brother for lunch, then spend the afternoon serving food at a shelter across town before heading home for the traditional Christmas Eve dinner with her family.This year, dinner had been moved up to lunch – something about grandma and grandpa's flights. So volunteering was out. She was fine with it at first. But as the season ramped up and the holiday spirit infected her, she felt the need to replace it with something. Some way to give back. To spread a little cheer to those less fortunate this time of year.As 3rd floor RA for the co-ed dorm, she was privy to certain information. The administration realized not every student could make it home for the holidays. So the school remained open in a limited capacity, depending on the holiday and how many students remained behind. This year on her floor there were three. And since they were stuck there maybe she could celebrate with them before she left.She snatched a small white drawstring bag off her bed and slung it over her shoulder, the contents momentarily rustling about inside. Taking her key card from the dresser she slipped it into her bra and reached for the door. She paused, re-thinking, the lever rocking under her palm. Quickly, she picked it out and tucked it neatly into the back of a sock instead, before ducking out into the hall.7:40 amShauna stopped at Room 303. She gave her usual rata-tat-tat RA knock and shrugged the bag off her shoulder, holding the strap in the crook of her elbow. The corridor was weirdly quiet. No music or raucous conversation bleeding through the walls. She couldn't imagine having to spend the next week here under these conditions. A latch clicked in front of her, and the door creaked open.“Hey Ty,” she chirped, “Merry Christmas!”Ty seemed surprised by the greeting, then confused by her presence. He smiled. “Um…thanks. Merry Christmas to you too.” His eyes dipped – first to her cleavage, then to her legs – before rebounding to hers. He now seemed nervous too.“Can I come in for a minute?”“Uh…yeah, sure.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats he stepped aside. She glided past, her blonde curls swishing about her shoulders. Ty gently shut the door behind her.Shauna glanced around the suite. Open textbooks were strewn across the couch. Graph paper filled with notes littered the desk. The three computer monitors that typically flickered video games, now hosted row upon row of complex equations she didn't understand. Ambient techno pulsed softly through a pair of small speakers, and the room smelled faintly of Axe body spray.“I'm sorry,” he offered, “I wasn't expecting anyone today.”He was a freshman, so she'd only known him one semester. But he seemed like a good kid. Sure, he was disheveled, nerdy, and a little immature. But he was charming and considerate, and very bright – dedicated to keeping his name on the Dean's List. Didn't hurt that he was cute either.“That's okay,” she replied. “Santa knows it sucks having to be here over the holidays, so he got you a present.” She lowered the bag and reached inside, pulling out a deep green envelope with a silver star sticker sealing it shut. “Nothing big, just something to give you a break from…” she waved her arm toward the paper and monitors, “…this.”Cautiously he took the envelope, turning it over to find his name written neatly on the front. “Oh,” he said, “…thanks. That's…really nice.”A moment of awkward silence followed. “Go ahead,” Shauna prompted, “open it.”Ty shrugged. He peeled up the star and lifted the flap, extricating a Christmas card with a red-nosed Rudolph gracing the cover. He smiled as he opened it, eyes tracking back and forth across the page. Wedged in the crease was a white 3 by 5 note card. Flipping it right-side-up he discovered a sketch in black marker in the center. He froze, the smile fading, jaw dropped. He looked up at Shauna. Then back at the card.“Wait…,” he stammered, “is this…. Are you…. Is this for real?”Shauna raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Santa likes to make sure no one on the nice list gets left out.” Her gaze fell to his groin, dialing in on the growing bulge. There was the response she was hoping for. She hung the bag over the doorknob. Closing the distance between them she reached out and pinched the card in her fingers.“Why don't you get comfortable.”She set it on a textbook and slouched against the desk, waiting. Ty looked left, then right, unsure of what to do. Finally, he stepped back and eased himself down to the edge of his bed. Shauna placed her hands on his thighs, pushing them apart before kneeling between them. The tented fleece covering his crotch pointed directly at her. She smiled. Looked up.“You've done this before, right?”He paused a moment, then nodded vigorously. She wasn't convinced. But it didn't really matter. It might even help keep her on schedule. She gave him a shove, forcing him to recline and brace with his arms. Grabbing his sweats by the pockets she jerked at them until they pooled around his ankles. His cock sprang out, slapping his abdomen before swaying back to vertical.She wrapped it in her fingers, the whole head protruding from her fist. He puffed and shivered under her touch. Leaning forward she lowered her head. His body tensed. She raised her eyes to find his narrowed, his mouth rounded and dry. “Relax,” she cooed, “just enjoy it,” and slipped his dick between her lips.A breath rattled his chest. She felt the blanket cinch beneath them as his fingers gripped and pulled. First she teased the glans, undulating her tongue beneath, then around and over the top. His hips shot up to meet her mouth. She lightened her hold, welcoming him in deeper.She bobbed her head to the rhythm of the music – down on one and three, up on two and four. His cock was rock hard, curving into the roof of her mouth with each descent. He sighed, and groaned, and grunted; the tone and timbre of each growing more urgent with each passing minute.Shauna's free hand dove under her dress and between her legs, fingers plucking aside the damp lace and strumming the slick, smooth lips of her pussy. Her partners were usually more experienced. More restrained. It had been some time since one had responded with such virginal enthusiasm. And she found it to be quite the turn-on.She held her neck as steady as she could, relinquishing control of tempo and depth. Ty trembled, huffing air through gritted teeth. Shauna peeked to find his eyes closed, neck strained, deep blue veins pulsing through. Sensing the moment, her fingers left the base of his dick and curled around his balls. She tightened her lips to a gentle squeeze.Ty stalled. A guttural growl forced its way into the air. His eyes popped open wide and fixed on Shauna's. With a batting of lashes, she pushed down on his throbbing cock until the tip of her nose bumped his abdomen. A heartbeat later, torrents of warm, viscid cum spewed into her mouth.The jets struck the back of her palate, sloshing over her tonsils and sliding down her throat. She swallowed hard but couldn't keep up. Each burst seemed richer than the last, filling her cheeks and leaking from the corners of her mouth. Her own juices deluged her fingers in response; the squelching filling the gaps between Ty's staggered gasps.A dozen spurts later his orgasm subsided. Shauna held his cock a little longer, savoring its texture on her lips and the mild, distinct flavor of his seed. She moved with him as his hips sagged back to the mattress, sinking him deeper to the root of his erection. After one final gulp she sucked in her cheeks and lifted her head, teasing the remaining fluids from the head of his dick.He gawked at her, speechless. She pulled her fingers from her pussy and held them up in front of her. They gleamed in the light, strands of grool clinging to her knuckles as she separated them. Fixing on him she sucked each finger into her mouth, swabbing them clean before licking her lips. Ty's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed flat on the bed.Shauna giggled. Pushing off she rocked to her feet. She looked at him spread over the rumpled blanket, his penis twitching on his tummy. She nodded, pleased with herself. Sweeping her hair out of her face she took the gift sack from the doorknob and the note card from the desk, slipping the latter into the former.“Did you enjoy your present?” she asked, slinging the bag over her shoulder.Ty groaned a sigh, his satisfaction evident. A smile lit Shauna's lips.“Good,” she said, “that's great.” She made her way back to the door. “You know, Santa can't offer gifts like this to everyone, so…let's keep this between us, okay?”An arm raised and a hand approximated a wave before tumbling limp to the mattress. She took it as a yes. Catching her reflection in the window she adjusted her hat. “Merry Christmas Ty,” she said softly, before disappearing into the corridor.8:05 amSnowflakes drifted past the tall narrow windows of the student lounge separating the north and south wings of the third floor. Curled up at the far end of the couch opposite the ping pong table, Shauna twisted the cap off a bottle of diet soda and took a sip. Pulling her phone from the bag she checked the time. Javon would arrive in fifteen minutes. Plenty of time to finish her drink.She stretched out across the cushions and downed another swig. This one excited her more than the others. She and Javon were casually acquainted. Though both juniors they rarely shared classes. But they saw each other often around campus; playing pool in the lounge, grabbing coffee at Starks, or stocking up on dollar tacos Tuesday nights at Frankie's. And always, always flirting.Nothing ever came of it, unfortunately. He was putting himself through school and the scholarships just weren't enough. So he needed to work a lot. Every chance he got he'd bank some overtime or pick up an extra shift. That didn't leave much time for anything else. But today was Christmas Eve. The print shop would be closed tomorrow, so he couldn't go in tonight. Which she hoped would free up just enough time for what she had in store.A door closed in the distance, followed by footsteps in the hallway behind her. She checked her phone. He was early. She chugged another mouthful of soda, then quietly stuffed everything into the bag. The footsteps halted. A latch turned and a door opened, then closed. She counted to thirty, then slid off the couch and left the lounge, rounding the corner toward 317.8:08 amShauna waited, impatiently, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Still no response. She knocked again, harder this time. Shuffling noises, then heavy footfalls. The door swung open on a scowling Javon, his uniform shirt crumpled in his fist, muscles chiseled and taut. She smiled up at him, head cocked to the side. He looked her over, his mood softening as he recognized who she was.“Hey,” he said, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing here?”She shrugged, ignoring the twinge in her pussy. “Waiting to see you. Can I come in?”Javon retreated inside, tossing his shirt on the bed and perching on the edge of his dresser. Shauna followed, taking quick stock of the room. Clean and sparse. Suitable for someone who spent very little time there. She turned her attention to him. Tall and dark, with bold, crisp features. His hands splotched with cyan and yellow ink from the press.“Is um…is this a bad time?”“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I was just going to take a shower, then go down for a nap.” He waved a hand in her direction. “Soooo, who are you supposed to be?”“I'm a Christmas elf,” she replied. “Santa's Helper.”Javon's eyes widened. “Oh. You're a lot taller than I would have expected of an elf.”“Well, we're not all size challenged artisans baking cookies in the off-season you know. Some of us are taller, and educated, and…really cute.”He laughed, his pecs jumping. “That's fair. Please forgive my ignorance of the elf community. I don't know any – aside from you.”She shrugged the bag off her shoulder and reached inside, crossing the carpet between them. “Listen, she began, “Santa knows how hard you work to be here, and how much that keeps you from having a life. So, he got you a little gift. It won't make up for having to be here over the holidays, but it might help take the edge off?”She pulled out a red envelope and handed it to him. He stared at it, his face cycling through several emotions, settling on confused.“Thanks,” he said, “that's…really sweet. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything.”Shauna smiled to herself, setting the bag on the floor. “Open it.” She wandered past him to the window. Raising the blinds she took a quick peek outside before turning and sliding up onto his desk, swinging her feet freely beneath.Javon zipped a finger under the flap and extracted the card; a red-nosed Rudolph printed on the cover. As he shook it open a white note card fluttered out. He snatched it out of the air and held it up. A sketch in black marker graced the white space.Shauna watched over his shoulder as he stared at the figures suggested by the swooping lines. He fanned the card, then turned and eased off his seat. He walked over to her, holding it up, the image upside down. His mouth curled in one corner. “This is uhhh…you and me?”She squinted at the picture. “Well…right-side up and all, but…sure.” She took it from him and snapped it on the desk. Her arms extended, fingers wedging themselves between the waist of his jeans and the warm, smooth skin of his abdomen. She reeled him in between her legs, squeezing them in hers. “Come on,” she said, thumbs separating the button and peeling the zipper. “Take a break.”Javon reached out, tracing the curl of her ear with his finger. Tilting his head, he leaned in for a kiss. Shauna planted a hand in the center of his chest, stopping his lips a hair's breadth from hers. His heartbeat pulsed through her arm and gut, thumping through her clit like a kick drum. She tapped a finger on the card beside her. He glanced down. Then back at her. She smiled. Pushed him away.She hopped off the desk, lowering her eyes to the height of his fly. Waiting. Javon nodded. In a single swoop he shoved his jeans to the floor and stepped out. The outline of his cock bulged the breathable fabric of his boxer briefs, curving down his right leg. A squeak left Shauna's throat. She reached inside and fished it out, needing both hands to hoist the shaft.It hardened in her grip, rising, reaching for its target. She pulled a few long strokes, its heat warming her hands. She had imagined what he might be hiding. But none of those dreams fell short of reality. Reluctantly she let go. Eyes fixed on her prize she slowly turned round, bending over the desk. She shuffled her feet a shoulder's width apart and casually wiggled her ass.Javon stepped up, his demeanor all business. Stroking his meat with one hand he grabbed the hem of her dress in the other and flipped it up over her butt. Her firm white cheeks glowed in the morning light. He took the waistband of her panties and rolled them down her hips and thighs, abandoning them around her calves and exposing her labia to the chill of the room.She was sopping wet. He swiped his penis along her slit, greasing it with her cream. Current bolted up her spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She threw her ass toward him, anxious to be filled. But he took his time, lubing every inch to a slippery shine. Finally satisfied, he set a palm in the small of her back and wedged the tip of his cock between her folds. Slow and steady, he sank into her vagina.Shauna gasped, eyes round. Her knees buckled, fingertips clawing at the laminate as her canal expanded to accommodate the intruder. It was thicker than any dick or dildo she remembered. And she was suddenly grateful he'd been so careful to slicken up.He took shallow, steady thrusts, loosening her vice a touch each time. Short, silent breaths gave way to grunts and groans. She tried to restrain herself in case anyone still left was walking the halls. But it was a losing battle. The pressure coiling inside would soon be too much to contain.Javon curled over her. Reaching into her dress he freed her breasts from their padded sling and cupped one in each hand. He pinched her nipples between strong fingers, yoking her tits to her clit with little bolts of lightning. The heat of the moment telegraphed through her skin, flushing her ears, cheeks, and chest a robust, rosy pink.He pushed on, diving deeper into her velvet pouch. Her arms burning, Shauna lowered her elbows and forehead to the desk. Her hair shrouded her periphery, leaving the only clear view that of her lover's balls swaying back and forth between her thighs. A delightful fog rolled over her brain, occluding everything outside the aura of their bodies.“Do you want it all,” Javon whispered, his voice piercing the veil.Shauna turned her head, mouth agape. “That's not all of it?”A baritone chuckle rumbled from his chest. He straightened up, releasing her boobs for a firm hold of her waist. He eased down the throttle, slowing his rhythm. Measuring the distance. She caught his eyes for a moment, glimpsing the same lechery she felt coursing through her veins. He smiled at her. Then hilted his cock in her pussy.“Uhhh gawd.” A wave of pleasure rippled out from her core, breaking over her entire body. She couldn't gauge how big he was, but he was now twice as deep as he had been seconds ago.He gave her a moment and a few shallow dips before ramping up the pace; drawing his dick out to the barb each time before plunging back in. Shauna's ass rippled, limbs shuddering under each impact. She stretched her arms to brace herself. But her hands squeaked against the desk each time he crashed into her, jolting her forward.She began to lose control. Her pelvic muscles clenched; labia stretching around his shaft. He growled his approval. A stern smack stung her left buttock, forcing a squeal from her larynx and a shock to her sex. Another followed, echoing off the walls into her ears. Her strength failed, drooping her back and turning her legs to jelly.Javon grabbed hold of one and lifted it, bending the knee and setting it securely on the desktop. He continued to hammer away. The cords binding her orgasm began to fray. She imagined his view from behind; her sodden pink snatch vulgarly splayed for the massive dark rod plowing her gut. Words escaped her, leaving only screams and moans to communicate her desire.8:42 amShauna's head was swimming, her brain just mush. But she held on, wanting this ecstasy to last forever. Her hat flew off her head, landing silently on the windowsill. Long fingers raked through her hair. They gathered her curls into his fist and pulled. Her head snapped back, jaw dropped, eyelids fluttering. The cords snapped and the coil exploded.She bore down on his dick, silent and stiff, her body racked with orgasm. Her toes dug into the carpet, her raised foot flopping about over the edge of the desk. She slapped the top with her hands, translating her contractions into a frantic rhythm beat out for Javon to hear. Her juices flowed freely, seeping out past his cock and dribbling down her thighs. And through all this, he continued to fuck her.Shauna's orgasm continued in suspended animation, tweaking her muscles and prickling her skin. As snug as he fit there was now no friction. He glided in and out like a piston in a well-oiled machine. He pumped harder, faster, working to create resistance. But her pussy was a flooded mess and that wasn't going to change.He whispered something toward her ear. A question? She couldn't decipher the words. But it didn't matter. As long as he kept filling her, perpetuating this feeling, he could do whatever he wanted. She nodded as best she could. The pounding slowed and the hand holding her waist released. The slapping of skin ceased, and his penis slipped out of her vagina.The emptiness was deflating, like the air had been sucked from her lungs. She turned to look but he stopped her, pushing her head back down to the desk. She opened her mouth to demand he continue and that's when she felt it. The pressure on the dip of her anus. Her insides knotted up. Everything clenched, then released. Her rosebud relaxed, and Javon's cock surged up her ass.She held her breath, expecting pain. But there was none. Only an indescribable fullness she had never experienced before. Each time he retracted her stomach dropped. Each plunge threatened to split her at the seams. Orgasm ripped through her again, rattling her bones and sweating from every pore. The room closed in, swaddling her in a thick black heat. She screamed but heard nothing. Felt only his cock.His fingers curled over her shoulders and around her neck. He pushed and pulled her with new urgency, opposing the swing of his hips. He'd found the resistance he was seeking, and it drove him on toward ferocious climax.In her stupor, Shauna somehow regained control of her limbs. She twisted an arm behind her back and flailed at his. When he looked down, wanton lust blazing in his eyes, she willed words from her lips.“Cum in me,” she cried, breathless, desperate for his load. “Cum in my ass.”He glared at her, neck craned, jaw set. He shifted his weight, pinning her tits to the desk and raising her butt. He tried to hold out a bit longer. But she was too tight and he was too far gone. Nodding his head Javon closed his eyes and buried his throbbing cock balls deep, erupting hot semen deep in her bowels.He roared in release, his balls smashed against her pussy, rocking into the curve of her ass. The pressure lifted her foot from the floor, grinding her hip into the edge of the desktop. But she didn't care. His cum splattered inside her, capping her climax with a warm, gooey buzz. Her buttocks quaked with each spasm. She had his cock. All of it. In the moment, that was everything.9:04 amGradually the pumping slowed. The pressure on her back eased and the room drifted back into focus. She glimpsed herself in a mirror near the window; hair disheveled, bare breasts smushed beneath the cockled red fabric; a trembling leg coiled on the desk, panties dangling casually from her ankle.“You are so fuckin' hot,” said the voice in her ear. She cooed, not yet able to formulate words. He rested in her a moment longer, sharing her warmth.When they'd finally caught their breath Javon stood tall. Kneading his hands into the meat of her cheeks he pushed himself back, emerging from her ass with an obscene wet slurp. Empty, Shauna sighed, the void disappointing. Her rosebud gaped, then winked several times before shrinking back into place.Javon slumped against the wall near the window. Fumbling with the latch he cracked it open. December rushed in, swirling round their bodies and raising goosebumps on their skin. Shauna shivered, invigorated, the cold soothing her scalded sex. Watching her lover she smeared her cream over her pussy and along the crack of her ass. His organ flexed toward her, but Javon shook his head. Smiling, she wriggled off the desk.On wobbly legs she gathered the note card and the bag and set them on the edge of the bed. Rummaging around in the neck of her dress she tucked her tits back into her bra and plumped them into position. Javon sauntered over, her hat in one hand, soggy panties in the other. She took the cap and fit it over her head.“Can't put those back on,” she said of her underwear. “You keep them.”He nodded, draping them over the corner of the television. She shouldered the bag and looked up at him.“Did Santa get you what you wanted?”He laughed. She followed his eyes down to his semi-hard, polished rod.“I think he fucking crushed it,” he replied. Closing the gap between them he lowered his voice. “Tell me something though. Is this strictly a Christmas situation, or…are…special occasions not required.”Shauna shrugged, the corners of her mouth curling up. “Why don't you come by sometime and find out,” she offered. “You know where I live.” She gave his penis a playful nip and tug and backed out into the hallway.9:13 amShauna stood quietly outside Room 334, gently swaying to a tune in her head. Her fingertips tingled and her pussy hummed along to the beat, still riding the high of the last half-hour. A trickle of semen stained her inner thigh, the remainder of Javon's deposit still trapped inside. She smoothed the front of her dress and flipped the pom of the hat to the side. She was a few minutes behind schedule. But that shouldn't be critical here. Ready for more, she knocked on the door.There was a rustling inside. A few moments later the door opened on a beautiful raven-haired Japanese girl in a tight anime tee shirt and bright blue boyshorts. Seemingly surprised, the girl dropped the pencil she held in her left hand.“Hey Sachiko,” Shauna chirped.Sachiko ripped off her headphones and flashed a nervous smile. Shauna nodded inside. “Can I come in for a minute?” Sachiko glanced over at something Shauna couldn't see, then backed her slender frame away from the door. Shauna strode inside, the latch clicking shut behind her.Unlike her first two stops, this was a bit of a gamble. Their contact had been minimal, generally restricted to her RA duties. And her scouting report was incomplete. She knew Sachiko was a sophomore, and a graphic design major. She spent summers at home in Osaka. But she couldn't afford to fly back and forth for breaks, so she usually spent them on campus.Rumor was she was into women. Of this Shauna had no confirmation. But from their interactions in the dorm and Sachiko's shyness and fluster around particular friends she did have a feeling. It was risky. But that heightened the thrill.The room was warm and cozy, lit by a floor lamp and a cube on the nightstand. Fuzzy orange pillows adorned the loveseat below the window. Incense burned in a jade tray on the corner of the dresser and a thick down comforter covered the bed. Several sketchpads scattered across the desk, a collection of porcelain cats lining the shelf above. It was clearly the space of someone needing a touch of home.“Am I like…in trouble…or something?” Sachiko wondered.“No,” Shauna laughed, amused as much by her apparent discomfort as the absurdity of the question. “I mean, have you ever been in trouble? I just wanted to wish you Happy Holidays.”Sachiko blushed. Her face made several contortions before settling on a half nod and awkward smile. “Th…thank you,” she stammered. Shauna pinched her lips between her teeth. So far so good.“I like your kitties,” Shauna continued, drifting toward the shelf. She scanned for messages, photos, anything that might give her a clue.“My sister sends me a new one for my birthday every year,” Sachiko offered.“They're beautiful.” She spotted a sheet of paper with dark smudges sticking out of the pad on top of the pile. “What's this?” she asked, reaching for it.“What? Oh!” Sachiko leapt toward her, mortified. “It's nothing, I just – ”Before she could swipe the pad Shauna had the page, staring at a gorgeous unfinished graphite sketch of a sleeping woman. She lay on her side, head on a pillow, hands underneath. Bikini panties cloaked her nethers, an arm crossed her bare breasts. And her face. Well…. Her face was very familiar. Shauna smiled to herself. This might work after all.Sachiko slunk back as Shauna turned around. She studied the drawing a moment longer, impressed by the resemblance. Finally, she looked up at Sachiko. The rosy hue of her cheeks crept into her face and neck. Shauna noticed for the first time she wasn't wearing a bra.“Did you draw this?”Sachiko sighed, looking everywhere forward. “I um…. It…it's for a class.”“You did it from memory.”She rubbed her arms with her hands. “Yeah. It just…works that way.”“It's amazing.”Shauna returned the drawing to the desk. Sluffing off the bag she retrieved the final card. “I know you don't really celebrate Christmas,” she said, “but it can't be easy being here by yourself while everyone else is. So, I got you a gift.”The silver envelope rested in her palm while Sachiko hesitated, her name glittering in gold marker. She looked up, embarrassment clouding her eyes. Shauna smiled, extending her hand. Finally, Sachiko accepted.She zipped open the flap and removed the card. A red-nosed Rudolph blinked at her from the cover. Shauna dropped the bag on the loveseat. She clasped her hands behind her back and crossed her legs at the ankles, a flirty little swivel seizing her hips. Sachiko picked the note card from the fold and looked closely. Her fingers began to tremble.Shauna sidled up closer, tucking a lock of Sachiko's hair behind her ear. Sachiko jumped at the light touch. But her gaze remained fixed on the card. Her lips parted. No sound escaped.“If you want me to stop,” Shauna murmured, “just let me know.”She kissed Sachiko's ear lobe, rolling it between her lips before drifting to her cheek and the nape of her neck. Sachiko's tremor spread to her chest. The cards fell from her grasp. Shauna continued down, over her shoulders to the swell of her breasts. She caressed one in each palm, grazing the nipples with the soft cotton of the shirt.Sachiko tangled her fingers in Shauna's hair. They curled and flexed as Shauna descended, raising her shirt and kissing her navel. She lingered there, circling, lips skimming Sachiko's butter-smooth, unblemished skin. She smelled of cherry blossom and jasmine. Shauna filled her head with the scent, priming her for the peach she was about to unwrap. Sachiko's hushed whisper floated down from above. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.”Sinking to her haunches Shauna eyed Sachiko's sex. A small wet spot darkened the fabric between her legs. Shauna peeled the underwear down over Sachiko's ass and thighs, pooling them around her feet. Exposed to the low light was a plump, tidy pussy, closely cropped dark pubic hair gracing her mound. Shauna's lips quivered. She bowed, pressing her face between Sachiko's thighs, sopping up the heat.Sachiko moaned, easing her legs apart, welcoming Shauna's tongue between her folds. Her entire body shook, chopping her breaths between chattering teeth. Shauna probed a little deeper. Sachiko doubled over, humping Shauna's mouth. Shauna yipped with delight. She shook her head side to side, slathering Sachiko's light sweet syrup over her cheeks and chin.She dug her nails into the brunette's ass, spreading her cheeks and kneading the meat. Sachiko mauled her own breasts, stretching and twisting the characters on her shirt into impossible shapes. Buffeted by Sachiko's gyrations Shauna wobbled on the balls of her feet. It was all she could do to hold on for the ride and she found herself failing at that. Toppling to her butt she roped an arm around Sachiko's neck and pulled her ear to her dripping lips.“Sit on my face,” she hissed.Sachiko fell to her knees, straddling Shauna's chest and pinning her to the floor. On all fours she scooched forward over the blonde's shoulders until her succulent snatch hovered over her RA's gaping mouth. Shauna's tongue darted out, flicking Sachiko's swollen clit. Stifling a scream Sachiko collapsed on Shauna's kisser, squeezing her ears between her thighs and swirling her pussy over her lips.Shauna lost herself in Sachiko. Inhaling her essence. Drinking her qi. She thrilled at her lover's responses – involuntary, honest and pure. There was no pretention. Only the passion of an inexperienced girl wholly submitting to her desires. She reveled in it, lapping at Sachiko's sex from the hood of her clit to the crease of her ass.Sachiko's back arched, thrusting out her chest. Her head lolled back, eyes strafing the ceiling. She squirmed on Shauna's face, blissfully ignorant of her weight, Shauna's nose, or her need to breathe. She reached back between the Shauna's splayed legs, probing under her dress until her fingers found the blonde's honeypot and slithered inside.Strangling Sachiko's wrist in her thighs Shauna groaned into her pussy. The vibrations spurred Sachiko's building orgasm, winding her body tighter and tighter, pushing her fingers faster, deeper. The circuit closed, the feedback loop complete. Every flip of the tongue, every curl of a digit, amplified the next.Sachiko bucked and thrashed. Shauna swirled and writhed. Again and again they traded blows until suddenly Sachiko fell silent, her body rigid, muscles strained. Clutching fistfuls of Shauna's hair Sachiko spread her knees and bore down, smashing her quaking pussy into Shauna's lips and gushing slippery, viscous cum all over her face.Racked with spasms she hunched over Shauna's head, wave after crashing wave of orgasm pummeling her sex.9:38 amWhen the contractions finally slowed, Shauna worked her hands up to Sachiko's buttocks and nudged her. Spent, Sachiko rolled away, settling on her back against the foot of the bed. Shauna's chest heaved, gulping the cool dry air. Her eyes re-adjusted to the light. Reaching up she brushed the hat off her head and raked her fingers through moist matted hair. Arms flopping to the floor she sighed. That went well.She rolled her head and looked at Sachiko. The junior lay knees up, feet flat on the floor, her arms draped between her legs – the odd twitch in her muscles interrupting her stillness. Shauna willed herself up and crawled over. Finding her eyes shut she pressed in close and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. Sachiko smiled.“Merry Christmas,” Shauna whispered. Sachiko nodded, radiant from her orgasm. Shauna stroked her ear. “If you want me to model for you sometime,” she added, “give me a call.”She gathered her things and prepared to leave. As she passed the mirror on the closet door she stopped to look. Her face and neck glistened, glazed with Sachiko's juices. She tossed the hat in her hand, raising it to wipe herself clean. But she didn't. She decided instead she liked the way it looked. And she'd wear it a little longer. Pursing her lips, she slipped out of Sachiko's room.Light as a feather she skipped down the hall toward her room. She slowed passing Javon's door, wondering if he was already asleep. Her phone chimed in the bag, interrupting her curiosity. Retrieving it she scanned the screen and frowned. Two texts and a missed call. All from her brother.“Hey Josh,” she answered.“Yo, where the hell have you been?” There was an urgency in his tone. “I've been calling you. I'm out front, let's go!”She frowned. “Wait, what time is it?”“Quarter to ten. I told you I'd be here at 9:30, remember?”She thought for a minute, then rolled her eyes, realizing what went wrong. “Fuck,” she spat. “I thought you meant 9:30 your time.”“So you're not ready?”“No, I packed last night. I'll be right down.”Hanging up she shook her head. How did she make that mistake? She thought she'd have an hour to shower and clean up, but now they were running late. No time for any of that. Swiping the key card from her sock she popped into her room and tossed the gift bag on the bed. Snagging her backpack and navy peacoat from the closet she dashed back out headed for the lobby.9:52 amShauna flung open the passenger door of the coupe and tumbled inside, stuffing the backpack between her feet as she settled in the seat. Her teeth chattered from their brief exposure to the cold. Rubbing her hands together near the warm air vent she looked over at her brother behind the wheel. He stared at her, forehead crinkled, a mix of confusion and amusement scrawled across his lips.“What,” she said, staring back.He glanced down at her bare thighs – the coat just covering her lap – then back at her scowl.“Nice touch,” he replied, pointing to the bright red pileus cap.“Thanks,” she quipped, flashing a smile.“But you know it's snowing, right?”She flipped him the bird. He shrugged.“You're going to get Uncle Leo in trouble today.”Shauna tried to stifle her laugh. “Just drive Josh.”He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. “Unlike you,” he said, “I got an early start. So I'm going to get some coffee. Did you eat already?”“Yup,” she nodded. “Several times.”Josh's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.At the next light he made a left and turned into the coffee shop drive-thru. Waiting in line behind a pick-up he turned to his sister. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look a little…weird.”Shauna checked herself in the side mirror. She could taste Ty's spunk on her tongue; feel Javon's cum in her ass and Sachiko's pussy all over her face. A shiver buzzed her clit. She reclined the seat several notches and sighed, beaming at the ceiling.“Yeah,” she said softly. “I'm just…filled with Christmas spirit.” Quietly she shoved her hands beneath her legs to keep from touching herself for the remainder of the trip.By TheSleepingKing for Literotica

Despite the signs, Miquel "miscalculated" how much room he had to drive his truck and the helicopter he was hauling under an overpass in Denham, LA. Height of the overpass = 15'. Height of the very expensive helicopter he had on a trailer = 15.5'.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Wedged between Eritrea, Ethiopia, and Somalia, at the intersection of the world's busiest shipping routes, Djibouti has long been a global geostrategic hub. In Djibouti: A Political History (Lynne Rienner, 2023), Samson Bezabeh traces the tortuous political history of this tiny country since its independence from France in 1977. Bezabeh challenges much conventional wisdom as he dissects Djibouti's trials and tribulations. Focusing on the internal, external, and historical factors that drive its domestic politics, his work exposes the troubling dynamics that have allowed the state to survive despite, or perhaps because of, the fragmentation of its society. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Wedged between Eritrea, Ethiopia, and Somalia, at the intersection of the world's busiest shipping routes, Djibouti has long been a global geostrategic hub. In Djibouti: A Political History (Lynne Rienner, 2023), Samson Bezabeh traces the tortuous political history of this tiny country since its independence from France in 1977. Bezabeh challenges much conventional wisdom as he dissects Djibouti's trials and tribulations. Focusing on the internal, external, and historical factors that drive its domestic politics, his work exposes the troubling dynamics that have allowed the state to survive despite, or perhaps because of, the fragmentation of its society. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

Wedged between Eritrea, Ethiopia, and Somalia, at the intersection of the world's busiest shipping routes, Djibouti has long been a global geostrategic hub. In Djibouti: A Political History (Lynne Rienner, 2023), Samson Bezabeh traces the tortuous political history of this tiny country since its independence from France in 1977. Bezabeh challenges much conventional wisdom as he dissects Djibouti's trials and tribulations. Focusing on the internal, external, and historical factors that drive its domestic politics, his work exposes the troubling dynamics that have allowed the state to survive despite, or perhaps because of, the fragmentation of its society. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/political-science

Wedged between Eritrea, Ethiopia, and Somalia, at the intersection of the world's busiest shipping routes, Djibouti has long been a global geostrategic hub. In Djibouti: A Political History (Lynne Rienner, 2023), Samson Bezabeh traces the tortuous political history of this tiny country since its independence from France in 1977. Bezabeh challenges much conventional wisdom as he dissects Djibouti's trials and tribulations. Focusing on the internal, external, and historical factors that drive its domestic politics, his work exposes the troubling dynamics that have allowed the state to survive despite, or perhaps because of, the fragmentation of its society. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/african-studies

Things you wish you'd been told or learned earlier before teaching learn to row. You'll never stop learning because this is rowing - it's normal! Timestamps 03:00 Marlene's first learn to row class 1982 07:30 Use lifting a box to demonstrate the stroke sequence. 09:00 Port is on the right. Port wine is red, red is right (both start with R). 09:45 Tension - how comfortable are they on the water. 11:00 You won't get fit learning to row. It's mental and technical. Mental - relax enjoy the view. 13:00 Comfort in the boat drills -sit at the catch. Be aware of where your body weight is. Can you feel your feet, seat, and oars against the oar locks? 15:30 Let day one be about experiencing on the water. Demonstrate what a full stroke looks like. Get full strokes in. Be in the boat on day one not on the rowing machine 18:30 Have helpers. First impressions of rowing. Load up your staff for the first day and give attendees assurance and individual attention. 20:30 Don't try too hard. Let them row the way they want to. Check people don't get into a situation they cannot get out of. Wedged against the bank in a lx on a windy day. Use a rope if they are very tentative. 24:15 Make sure you can see all your athletes simultaneously. 24:45 Don't talk too much. One thing at a time. 21:00 Rowing is fun but safety is serious. Highlight the safety features of the boat. Spatial awareness is low when learning something new. 29:40 Rowing lingo - use some but not too much. You'll never stop learning to row. Enjoyment, safety, you want big smiles and a sense of achievement at the end of each lesson.

Wedged in between the two biggest cobbled races on the calendar, the Toms sit down to discuss what's been happening in the world of cycling, and what's to come. Tune in for a breakdown of Tadej Pogačar's and Lotte Kopecky's heroics at the Tour of Flanders, some bold predictions for this year's Paris-Roubaix, and a quick-fire quiz on the Hell of the North. Music: Acid Trumpet by Kevin MacLeodLink: https://incompetech.filmmusic.io/song/3340-acid-trumpetLicense: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0

Notwithstanding China's early reopening and a brighter global outlook than at the beginning of the year, US and European inflation have remained stickier than expected, raising expectations of further rate hikes and supressing broad commodity returns in recent weeks. However, Ehsan Khoman, Head of Commodities, ESG and Emerging Markets Research (EMEA), believes that the bullish micro fundamental story is still very much intact, with inventory levels at depressed levels and spare production capacity running thin. He believes that with global demand still improving, most commodity markets will likely remain in backwardation, exposing physical tightness and structural underinvestment. This will provide an organic lift in prices as soon as the bearish macro moves into the rear-view mirror. Disclaimer: www.mufgresearch.com (PDF)

For the record, I don't care about Han Solo or whether he shot first in the cantina scene in Star Wars. I care about Matthew. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for Mark, too, and Luke, and John. It's just that Mark didn't shoot first. Mark shot second. Like Mark Antony's speech at Caesar's funeral, it started with a line such as, “I've come to bury Matthew, not to praise him!” This scholarship to remove Matthew as the first Gospel writer started in anti-Catholic Protestant universities in Europe, using biased textual criticism that ignored all historical testimony in writing and Sacred Tradition. But why would they do that? Why would anyone do that? Who benefits? Let me beat this topic a bit longer…First and foremost, knocking down Matthew to second or third very clearly elevates the Protestant argument against Peter as the first Pope and apostolic succession. This cannot be understated. If there is one position to attack on the Catholic Church, it's to get the Papacy in check-mate, and when the direct assault of the Protestants didn't work, a long “march through the culture” happened in the universities. Today we can observe the atheists like Bart Ehrman in lockstep with the Marxists. It makes for strange bedfellows. Since the workers of the world did not unite to overthrow capitalism and religion, a long atheist “march through the culture” is happening. (Spoiler alert: at the end these marches, guess who will still be there? Yes, the answer is the Catholic Church. This is not the first rodeo for the Church. There have been large, violent, and lengthy attacks before in the forms of the Arians, Nestorians, Albigensians, Islam, and a hundred others.) As we watch the fragmentation of Protestantism, and the latest ascendency of what is becoming known as wokeness, we can observe a process of atomization unfolding. A scattering is happening. We can read about the annual splintering of the Baptists at their conventions. Even this week as I write this, the United Methodist Church will soon be no longer United but “Wedged” instead. On the other side, the unbelievers form factions that come and go, like the Masons, the humanists, the deconstructionists, the freethinkers, the “Brights” (the hilarious, brief attempt at a religion started by Richard Dawkins, which I was quite enamored with when I was fallen away and thought Dawkins was deep instead of ridiculous). These fads come and go, because none of them are from God. We are in the last days of the Masons because they were always just a reaction and a copycat. The humanists can't get along, or even form a coherent set of ideas, because they worship the human, and that makes for seven billion gods. The woke are already destroying one another, as the head is now eating the tail. One thing that always plays out is the breakdown of unity among unbelievers. It's ugly. It's not beautiful. It's ugly…because it's not from God.The tragedy, however, in doing this teardown of Matthew, is that these well-intentioned Pope-haters (which is considered a virtue in some Protestant circles) managed to undermine all of sacred scripture, not just the parts that affect the Catholic Church. A nice summary of this long tragedy is in a book by Scott Hahn and Benjamin Wiker called The Decline and Fall of Sacred Scripture. The obsession with scholarly insight into scripture did not elevate the word of God, it devalued it and ripped out the supernatural altogether. Yet the supernatural is still in there, despite decades of academic wrestling over.Why does this research undermine the Gospel? Because if Matthew is written after the fall of the Temple in Jerusalem, when the Romans laid waste to all things Jewish, Jesus' prediction about the temple being disassembled becomes really, really weak. If Matthew wrote this after 70 A.D., which all “modern” biased scholarship suggests, then it makes no sense. As Jesus came out of the temple and was going away, his disciples came to point out to him the buildings of the temple. Then he asked them, “You see all these, do you not? Truly I tell you, not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” (Matthew 24:1-2)Now, faithful scholarship believes Matthew was written between 42 and 68 A.D., which makes sense with this statement (and everything else above). However, scholars who lack faith place Matthew as being written after 70 A.D. and only that Matthew drew from “earlier sources,” but the problem is that the suspicion is already branded on the text and when scholars refer to “earlier sources” they are not referring to the Hebrew version of Matthew that tradition speaks about. And here are the suspicions: 1.) That the prediction of the temple destruction was added after the fact to make Jesus look prophetic. 2.) That the pro-Catholic verses about Peter and the Sacraments were added later to shore up the case for Catholic authority. 3.) That all of the Gospel is dubious at best because so much time passed that an eyewitness account is impossible. What I can never fully get my head around is this. The main argument for Mark being first is that…: Mark is shorter. The second reason is that Mark is…: Mark is a weaker writer. Both of these arguments can be turned around and argued against to say that Matthew was first because Matthew is longer and Matthew is a better writer. These arguments for “Mark shot first” are inventions and bear no weight whatsoever on facts, and you can argue it until you are blue in the face without it getting anywhere, and scholars have done just that. But somehow these arguments have great staying power because scholarship has anointed these two ideas with the ink of published papers. Never mind that the journals are biased toward “Mark shot first” to begin with. Never mind that you probably can't get a job teaching Biblical studies if you objected to these arguments (read this fascinating article about 19th century German hiring and firing of those who didn't toe the party line). The following may come as a shock to the modern person who likes to “follow the science” and assumes that science and experts would never lie: scholars and scientists are every bit as prone to simping, scapegoating, and “dry-labbing” facts as are religious and business people, and correcting an error in scholarship or science is like turning a super-tanker around in the ocean; it takes a long time, and a lot of energy, and a lot of convincing, because usually no one wants to admit things are going in the wrong direction. There's too much money, time, and sunk costs to change direction. The Titanic didn't sink because an iceberg hit it. The Titanic sunk because it ran into an iceberg. The problem of pride in the mind and assumed perfection preceded the collision. The iceberg just happened to be the reality that smashed a false idea. In praise of science, it usually will self-correct over time because sooner or later someone calls out the lie. The researcher who produces false results will be outed, even if it takes a century. However, Biblical scholarship is not biology or physics, so there is much more room for bias, just like in sociology or history or literary criticism, and the will of whoever is in power, whether it's a king or department chair, can skew the results dramatically toward the desired outcome through wordsmithing. Even in hiring, the bias for the desired outcome of future research is accomplished, because if an academic researcher would like a job but shows inclinations against the status quo, then their application will be passed over. This is no different than the Church, where an atheist cannot become a priest. But the faith is laid out in full display in the Church, where the preachers and teachers must profess the faith. In academia, this is hidden. Under the guise of “free speech” there is anything but such a thing, and therein lies the problem: the lies. Thus is a bias and motive protected, fenced off, in the walled gardens of academia, and there is no place more fenced off in the modern world than the university. They are the modern Levites, the experts who hand down the truth. As we try to downplay Moses and religious ways, our modern academic experts act more like Moses on Sinai than Moses himself, even wearing lab coats in their TV interviews, or being interviewed in rooms with walls bearing diplomas for the lay people, or giving TED talks from on high to the plebes watching at home on YouTube. So, back to the absurd argument of “It's shorter.” If I want to argue that “Mark shot first” because “it's shorter,” if I stare long and hard enough at Mark, I will find a case and enough evidence for the outcome I'm seeking. This is the beauty of textual criticism - it's an interpretive dance based solely on internal evidence, and therefore a fantasy. On the flip side, if I want to argue that Matthew is first because “it's longer,” I can do that, too. After all, you can spin a text into whatever you like, if you just use internal evidence of the text itself.The difference, however, is that a scholar most likely cannot publish the findings for an argument that “Matthew is longer, therefore first.” In secular academics, to get a job teaching such things, or to get accepted in a graduate program, is unlikely. This is the problem with modern academia; it is as rigid as the Pharisees in what you are allowed to say or believe. The book 1984 was written in an era of totalitarian governments, but today it applies very well to American universities and public schools, and this is exactly why so many teachers are leaving the profession. No one enjoys living a lie. As a former English major, I will say this pointing at myself: This spin problem is why you never want English majors being the navigators for your nation. They can spin gold into straw very easily, but they cannot spin straw into gold. They can only spin. They spin and toil and undo things, but by and large they do not create anything. A career is made of unpacking and teasing out meaning, calling out prejudices, pointing out oppression - but never producing or making anything. Lit-crit and Biblical-crit at the modern university is full of morality, guilt, and finger-pointing, to the point that three modern academics were able to publish several hoax papers on grievance studies that were accepted mainly because of their use on ridiculous postmodern jargon. “The trio set out with the intent to expose problems in what they called ‘grievance studies', referring to academic areas where they claim ‘a culture has developed in which only certain conclusions are allowed… and put social grievances ahead of objective truth'.”Now, with the humanities in free-fall, the jig is up on modern scholarship, since it's reaching the tipping point, the last phase, where the head becomes too heavy for the body to carry it any longer. Now we reach the point in a society where the workers of the world unite, but not the way that intellectuals like Marx think. The workers unite because they are tired of pulling the cart and being told they are the evil ones. So for the most part, I try not to worry about this long attack on Matthew. Jesus warned us not to worry. One thing is for sure: even if Matthew hadn't written at all, and we were still simply rolling by oral tradition, the message of Christ would still be growing, because it is from God, and nothing on this earth, nothing in this world, can halt what is from God. Jesus warned us about spinning and toiling, using clothing as an example, and clothing is even a metaphor in the Garden to hide our nakedness. Our reputations and opinions are kind of like clothing, where we fashion these elaborate fig leaves to cover ourselves. Jesus warns us to knock it off, and quit worrying: “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin.” He warns us about men of little faith: “But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well.”So I should really just stop bothering about the fact that “Matthew shot first,” because I know that tradition tells us his Gospel was first, and having faith means trusting in Sacred Scripture, Sacred Tradition, and the Magisterium of the Church. I know that. And yet, sometimes I let it bother me, because the real reason behind all of this is not a search for the truth, but the search for an outcome. The obvious aim of this kind of scholarship from the start has been to undermine the Church, and it remains so to this day. Whether it comes from the cynicism of unbelievers or the broadsides of Protestants, the desired outcome is the capitulation of the bishop of Rome, a.k.a. the Pope, who is on the chair of Peter, on the rock of the Church that Christ founded. And clearly scholars will not destroy the church, because Jesus promised that the “gates of hell will not prevail against” his Church. So they can certainly try to undermine it, but ultimately will fail, and they are failing now. It will play out exactly as every other attempt to destroy the Church, in that it will be messy, but the Church will remain when the dust settles, just as it has outlasted every other heresy and empire. This campaign has produced thousands of papers and articles on the Synoptic Problem, which was not a problem at all until modern scholarship made it into one, in the same universities that brought us the sad philosophy and ideas that conjured 20th century Germany, China, and the Soviet Union, and all of the horrors. These things are not unrelated. The stoking of the “will-to-power” didn't just happen in political nationalism and social Darwinism and Marxist revolutions. It happened most definitely in Biblical scholarship as well. Now, they meant it for bad, but as always, God will in the end, use it for good. This is how God deals with folks like Julius Wellhausen and Gottlieb Storr. He will do so with modern doubters too, like Bart Ehrman and his atheist disciples. The funny thing about scholarship's search for “truth” that wants to debunk Christianity is that they often end up organizing and collating information better so that new insights to Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition can be found. In other words, the unbelievers and anti-Catholics help faithful writers write better books on the truth of Christ. The anti-Catholics are like Joseph's eleven brothers in Genesis that throw him down the well and sell him into slavery, only to find out later that Joseph ended up thriving while they starved. In short, there was great incentive to crush Catholicism in Lutheran Germany from the time old Gottlieb Storr first whispered the idea of “Mark shot first” in 1786. For any philosophy aficionados, this connection will be interesting: one of Gottlieb Storr's students was none other than Hegel, who was the muse of Karl Marx. You have to marvel at it really, how these connections lead down the path of unbelief. The mess we are in today is the product of a lot of cross-pollination and rebellion (I wanted to say inbreeding but that would be uncharitable). What's interesting to me is these Hatfields and McCoys are actually all in the same family, as Protestant Storr begat unbelieving Hegel, and Hegel begat atheist Marx, and Marx begat Nietzsche, and Nietzsche begat Sartre, and Sartre begat Derrida, and Derrida begat Foucault, and Foucault begat the many-headed monster of wokeism. These are the names. This is how we've come to live in the book of Judges again in 2023 because “in those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes.” (Judges 21:25) The path of denying that sin exists starts small, but balloons into the denial of God. In hindsight, this all should have been as predictable as a stock market bubble, but the prophets of doom, those annoying gnats, are never heard until afterward.When Bismarck and company were consolidating power in Germany, this little snowball of Biblical criticism rolled, and rolled, and rolled, and the re-shaping of the Bible into a secular book has been so successful that when I attended a Catholic University for a year (from which I want my money back), I learned about “Marcan Priority,” which is a fancy way of saying that “Mark shot first.” I was also told that “We don't know who wrote the Gospels.” Both of these statements are false. If only that were the worst of it. The “Mark shot first” theory is not only taught in Catholic colleges. No, no, no. “Mark shot first” is taught in the American bishops' official Bible footnotes, in the “New American Bible,” the NAB. The Bible translation itself is fine. It's the footnotes that destroy faith. I am not alone in this feeling. Many others, like Jimmy Akin and Trent Horn to name just two of them, do not like the footnotes, or even the translation very much. You cannot read a page of Matthew in the New American Bible without the writer of the footnotes mentioning the hypothetical “Q” source (a document that doesn't exist and was probably Matthew in Aramaic or Hebrew if it did exist). Further, the footnote author mentions Marcan priority, and Mark as the source. So the footnotes of the New American Bible disagree with 1800 years of Tradition. How interesting. Someday I hope to learn who the author was of these footnotes. The root problem here is a lack of a supernatural view of the Bible, of which I may do a whole additional series on, because it's so important, but I can't dive deeply on it here without getting way off track, as I tend to do. This Bible, this New American Bible, with these heretical and faithless footnotes, is given to Confirmation students across America. It is everywhere. They are given out like a medal, a right of passage at Confirmation. I've discarded mine. So should you. Get a Word on Fire Bible or Ignatius Study Bible instead, or if you don't want a Catholic study Bible, get an ESV Study Bible that has faithful footnotes. I guess I can breathe a sigh of relief here because most Catholics don't actually read the Bible. (Score one for the Protestants. See - I don't always pick on the protestors. Some of the Protestant study Bibles have better footnotes, far more faithful ones than the New American Bible). Worst of all, the USCCB, the United States Catholic Bishops' website, uses these same footnotes. I weep. Here I weep. This is a travesty that must be uprooted and ripped out of the Church. I wrote a letter to the USCCB requesting that the footnotes be taken down, or better, printed off and used for kindling. (“But that's book burning, you Nazi!”) Fine, let's just delete them and use the Ignatius Study Bible footnotes instead. Now there is a Catholic study Bible that is faithful to the Scripture and the Tradition. Again, the New American Bible is fine, but the footnotes must have been written by my liberal arts professors who hadn't been to Mass in a long time - probably ever since they received their New American Bible with the footnotes about Marcan priority! Matthew shot first. As I've mentioned before, in the Bible, in the Commandments, and in the story of Creation, order matters, and the order of which the four evangelists wrote also matters greatly. The ordering of them in the form of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John doesn't just roll off the tongue. It's also the order in which they came to be on paper. And even if Matthew was translated from Hebrew into Greek, he was first, has always been first, and the early Church had no reason to pretend this was the case, unlike the scholars who tried to upend history by twisting words. One thing that should be an immediate head scratcher for you is this: if Christianity started in Jerusalem, where Christ was crucified, effectively on Pentecost, and most of the initial arguments were with Jews and Christ's followers, then why would Mark, written in Greek, be the first? Warning: if you attend a university, almost any university, you will never hear these arguments. This is all hidden from you, as the modern Biblical scholars have buried these. In 1995, I was taught only Marcan Priority…at a Catholic college, of all places. The great thing about truth, however, is that it cannot be buried forever. My hope is that someday, just as the Dead Sea Scrolls were found by some kids throwing rocks in caves, that another jar will turn up in Israel, and inside it will be Aramaic Matthew, and all of this false scholarship, and I mean all of it, will turn to dust. Matthew shot first.The following is from a biblical site where people argue about these things, copied in full. (From https://hermeneutics.stackexchange.com). What are the arguments in favor of Matthean Priority?External Evidence* Matthew is almost unanimously testified as the oldest gospel by the church fathers. Clement of Alexandria even supported both Matthew and Luke as before Mark. This is significant because Mark is said to have founded the Coptic branch of Christianity in Alexandria, Egypt. If any place were to argue for Markan priority, Egypt would be the most likely. A sampling of the church fathers' testimony follows:* Papias “Matthew wrote in Hebrew and others translated.” (HE 3.39.16)* Origen said the first gospel was written by Matthew in Hebrew. (HE 6.25.4)* Irenaeus (grandson in the faith of John by Polycarp of Smyrna) said the first gospel was written written by Matthew in land of Hebrews in their own language. (Against Heresies. 3.1.1)* Eusebius — Matthew had first preached to Hebrews and wrote in their own language (HE 3.24.6)* Jerome “Matthew was the first to compose in Hebrew and his text is still available in [library near Bethlehem].” He even challenged his critics to go see it if they doubted. (Lives of Illustrious Men ch. 3)As the church rose out of the mission to the gentiles, it is interesting that the church fathers supported the Judaic gospel of Matthew instead of Mark. Also consider that they testify that Mark was the companion of the Apostle Peter in Rome which became one of the five sees of the early church (Rome, Constantinople, Antioch, Jerusalem, and Alexandria, Egypt). Unless the tradition of Matthean priority were very early, it is unlikely that they would all arrive at it independently. In fact, the slight differences in their testimonies provide evidence that they came from different sources.* Even though one of the main arguments for Markan priority is that Mark is shorter and "later authors would be more likely to expand than contract," such is not always the case (see, for example, the Reader's Digest Condensed Library). Summarizing a longer work is well known and has been for a long time. There are even ancient works which name their sources and state, "this work will be a shorter, more understandable account of the events than X."* The Didache clearly relies on Matthew. While the date of this document is debated between AD 50 and AD 150, the earlier it is, the earlier Matthew has to be.* When you examine second-century Christian writings, Matthew is quoted far more frequently than Mark. So is Luke. If Mark enjoyed a period when it was the only written gospel, it seems that it should have been more popular. Likewise, Matthew's Gospel enjoys a more central place in the second century liturgy than any other gospel or even Paul's epistles. (see, for example, Massaux's extensive treatment of the subject here)Internal EvidenceI am separating textual evidence from internal evidence. The difference is that internal evidence will be themes or concepts while textual evidence deals with specific words and phrases.* The fall of Jerusalem is completely missing from Matthew. This event rocked the Jewish world. Matthew, who so often points out when a prophecy is fulfilled, does not add an editorial comment to Jesus' prophecy that Jerusalem would be overthrown. Not a single "and this prophecy was fulfilled" about the fall.Some have pointed to Matthew 22:7 as referring to the fall of Jerusalem as an event happening in the past. In fact, this verse is almost universally accepted as such. However, sending in troops and burning a city with fire were quite common ways of dealing with troublesome cities in the past. In fact, it is so common in Near Eastern, Old Testament, and Rabbinic writings that its occurrence here should not be thought to refer to a single event.Moreover, for an after-the-fact prophecy, Matt 22:7 is very inexact. While the walls of Jerusalem fell, it was the temple that burned. In fact, post event "prophecies" do make this distinction.We have overthrown the wall of Zion and we have burnt the place of the mighty God (II Baruch 7.1). [I.e. the temple. For this sense, cf. II Mace. 5.17-20; John 11.48; Acts6.14; 21.28; etc.]They delivered ... to the enemy the overthrown wall, and plundered the house, and burnt the temple (II Baruch 80.3).And a Roman leader shall come to Syria, who shall burn down Solyma's [Jerusalem's] temple with fire, and therewith slay many men, and shall waste the great land of the Jews with its broad way (Sibylline Oracles 4.125-7).It seems to me that if this were being written post AD 70, then the prophecy would have been altered to distinguish the fates of the city and temple. Christians did come to see the burning of the Temple as God's judgment on the Jewish leadership, but the events do not correspond closely enough to require Christ's parable to be a reference to it or the wording to be an after the fact description. A final note on Matthew and the city can be found in Matthew 27:8 ("For this reason that field has been called the Field of Blood to this day."). Matthew seems to view the city as still intact when he writes that.Likewise, the cryptic statement in Matt 24, "let the reader understand" need not mean the "this prophecy has been fulfilled." Whenever Matthew wants to say that a prophecy has been fulfilled, he says so (for example, Matt 1:22; 2:15; 2:23; 3:15; 4:14; etc).I understand Matthew 24 to be referring to the parousia. Matthew states that the distress of those days will be followed immediately by the coming of the Son of Man (24:29). This did not happen in AD 70. If Matthew is trying to portray Jesus as an unmatched prophet, he failed by including material that did not happen.* While Matthew contains a high Christology, this by no means means it has to be written after Mark who does not present such a high theology. (Easily explained if Mark's Gospel is meant for an audience who is new in the faith.) Paul's letters contain a high Christology, and most scholars date Paul (died ~64) before Mark (who they place ~70). Moreover, Paul's letters show that Christian traditions even earlier than his had a high Christology.* The same can be said for Matthew's high liturgy. In fact, one of the verses that is brought out to show Matthew came late in the first century or beyond is Matthew 18:17 based on the word "church." However, this ignores that the Greek word used there, ecclesia, enjoyed wide usage in the Septuagint to translate qahal, "sacred assembly," and was used by diaspora Jews.Textual Evidence* There are a significant number of places in Matthew where the parallel account in Mark makes more sense to have been edited down than for Matthew to expand. It is possible to read Mark with the hypothesis that it came from Matthew and run into no redactional problems that challenge said hypothesis. However, reading Matthew as a redaction of Mark does cause such problems.* There are places where Mark uses a certain word but Matthew does not, even though he used that word in other places (for example "pherein"). This makes more sense with Mark editing Matthew than of Matthew copying Mark.* There are places where Matthew has phrases he likes and uses them consistently. Mark has parallels of most of these accounts and is very free in his translations of the phrases. It makes more sense for Mark to be free styling from Matthew than it does for Matthew to be forcing the phrase into his wording whenever he sees it in Mark. One of these phrases is opias de genomenes, found first in Mt 8:16 and Mk 1:32. Markan priority has to conclude that Matthew copied the form exactly as Mark had it the first time, then always and consistently used the same grammar whenever he found a similar phrase in Mark and introducing it himself in Mt 20:8 which has no parallel in Mark.* There are places where Mark combines details from both Matthew and Luke. An example of these duplicate expressions can be seen in Mark 1:32 compared to Mt 8:16 and Luk 4:40.Mk 1:32 When evening came, after the sun had set, they began bringing to Him all who were ill and those who were demon-possessed.Mt 8:16 When evening came, they brought to Him many who were demon-possessed; and He cast out the spirits with a word, and healed all who were ill.Lk 4:40 While the sun was setting, all those who had any who were sick with various diseases brought them to Him; and laying His hands on each one of them, He was healing them.In these parallels, Mark combines the introductory phrases from both Matthew and Luke. In this case, Markan priority would require that Luke know of both Matthew and Mark and consciously choose to use the exact phrase that Matthew does not. However, if Matthew writes first and Luke second, there is no such problem.* Matthew leaves semitisms in place where Mark smoothens them. This includes wording and patterns that Mark breaks. Yes, Mark has eight semitic words, but Matthew has many more semitisms (so does Luke, a plethora of semitisms). Many of Mark's semitisms seem to be added for drama while Matthew's flow naturally.Adding to the semitisms are 12 times where Matthew (and Luke) uses the participle of a verb while Mark uses the past tense. Using a participle for the second verb in a set (and he answered, saying) is well-known when coming from a semitic language (all over the Septuagint) but is not used in normal Greek. Mark also uses these participles but not as often. It would be more likely to edit them out than to edit them back in.Many more examples exist where Matthew and Luke agree with one another in wording and Mark is different.* Matthew and Luke both record 8 healing miracles. Mark has 10. The two left out of both Matthew and Luke are the saliva miracles (Mark 7:32-35 and 8:24). Did they both decide to skip the same miracles independently or did Mark add them from another source?More details can be found here and here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.whydidpetersink.com

‘Tis the season for giving.By TheSleepingKing. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.7:16 amThe door from the bathroom swung open, spiling steam into the dim blue rays of light sneaking in through the blinds. Wrapped in a towel, Shauna strode into her dorm room, feet sinking into the carpet as she padded across the floor. Pausing at the window she pulled the cord to raise the blinds, bathing the room in the soft glow of an overcast Michigan dawn.A dusting of snow covered the glazing. About an inch drifted on the ledge outside. Beyond and several stories down a lone figure rounded onto the back straight of the athletic track. Shauna leaned in, her breath fogging the glass. She poked two dots and underlined them with a curve. Smiled at the new face smiling back at her. It was a beautiful Christmas Eve morning.She unhooked the towel and tossed it over the back of the chair parked under the desk. The cool air plucked at her nipples and sapped the heat from her skin. She skimmed her hands around the bulge of her breasts, across her taut tummy and the arc of her ass. Appraising her profile in the mirror she nodded. Spin class and yoga really paid off this year.From the top drawer of the dresser, she picked out white lace panties and drew them up over toned, creamy thighs. She paired them with red and white argyle knee socks and a soft strapless bra. Sifting through the hangers in the closet she settled on a flirty red A-line dress with wide shoulder straps and a length about mid-thigh. Not practical for the weather. But perfect for the mission.7:32 amShe capped the outfit with a fuzzy Santa hat and white-soled black Keds before returning to the mirror. She turned side to side and took a twirl, the dress flaring out before settling over her legs. Certainly the sexiest elf she'd ever seen. She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. She would need to get going soon to make her deliveries. The schedule was tight.On any other Christmas Eve she'd still be asleep; tucked in tight and dead to the world in a quiet corner of her parents' six-bedroom McMansion in Traverse City. She'd get up around 10:00, meet her brother for lunch, then spend the afternoon serving food at a shelter across town before heading home for the traditional Christmas Eve dinner with her family.This year, dinner had been moved up to lunch – something about grandma and grandpa's flights. So volunteering was out. She was fine with it at first. But as the season ramped up and the holiday spirit infected her, she felt the need to replace it with something. Some way to give back. To spread a little cheer to those less fortunate this time of year.As 3rd floor RA for the co-ed dorm, she was privy to certain information. The administration realized not every student could make it home for the holidays. So the school remained open in a limited capacity, depending on the holiday and how many students remained behind. This year on her floor there were three. And since they were stuck there maybe she could celebrate with them before she left.She snatched a small white drawstring bag off her bed and slung it over her shoulder, the contents momentarily rustling about inside. Taking her key card from the dresser she slipped it into her bra and reached for the door. She paused, re-thinking, the lever rocking under her palm. Quickly, she picked it out and tucked it neatly into the back of a sock instead, before ducking out into the hall.7:40 amShauna stopped at Room 303. She gave her usual rata-tat-tat RA knock and shrugged the bag off her shoulder, holding the strap in the crook of her elbow. The corridor was weirdly quiet. No music or raucous conversation bleeding through the walls. She couldn't imagine having to spend the next week here under these conditions. A latch clicked in front of her, and the door creaked open.“Hey Ty,” she chirped, “Merry Christmas!”Ty seemed surprised by the greeting, then confused by her presence. He smiled. “Um…thanks. Merry Christmas to you too.” His eyes dipped – first to her cleavage, then to her legs – before rebounding to hers. He now seemed nervous too.“Can I come in for a minute?”“Uh…yeah, sure.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats he stepped aside. She glided past, her blonde curls swishing about her shoulders. Ty gently shut the door behind her.Shauna glanced around the suite. Open textbooks were strewn across the couch. Graph paper filled with notes littered the desk. The three computer monitors that typically flickered video games, now hosted row upon row of complex equations she didn't understand. Ambient techno pulsed softly through a pair of small speakers, and the room smelled faintly of Axe body spray.“I'm sorry,” he offered, “I wasn't expecting anyone today.”He was a freshman, so she'd only known him one semester. But he seemed like a good kid. Sure, he was disheveled, nerdy, and a little immature. But he was charming and considerate, and very bright – dedicated to keeping his name on the Dean's List. Didn't hurt that he was cute either.“That's okay,” she replied. “Santa knows it sucks having to be here over the holidays, so he got you a present.” She lowered the bag and reached inside, pulling out a deep green envelope with a silver star sticker sealing it shut. “Nothing big, just something to give you a break from…” she waved her arm toward the paper and monitors, “…this.”Cautiously he took the envelope, turning it over to find his name written neatly on the front. “Oh,” he said, “…thanks. That's…really nice.”A moment of awkward silence followed. “Go ahead,” Shauna prompted, “open it.”Ty shrugged. He peeled up the star and lifted the flap, extricating a Christmas card with a red-nosed Rudolph gracing the cover. He smiled as he opened it, eyes tracking back and forth across the page. Wedged in the crease was a white 3 by 5 note card. Flipping it right-side-up he discovered a sketch in black marker in the center. He froze, the smile fading, jaw dropped. He looked up at Shauna. Then back at the card.“Wait…,” he stammered, “is this…. Are you…. Is this for real?”Shauna raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Santa likes to make sure no one on the nice list gets left out.” Her gaze fell to his groin, dialing in on the growing bulge. There was the response she was hoping for. She hung the bag over the doorknob. Closing the distance between them she reached out and pinched the card in her fingers.“Why don't you get comfortable.”She set it on a textbook and slouched against the desk, waiting. Ty looked left, then right, unsure of what to do. Finally, he stepped back and eased himself down to the edge of his bed. Shauna placed her hands on his thighs, pushing them apart before kneeling between them. The tented fleece covering his crotch pointed directly at her. She smiled. Looked up.“You've done this before, right?”He paused a moment, then nodded vigorously. She wasn't convinced. But it didn't really matter. It might even help keep her on schedule. She gave him a shove, forcing him to recline and brace with his arms. Grabbing his sweats by the pockets she jerked at them until they pooled around his ankles. His cock sprang out, slapping his abdomen before swaying back to vertical.She wrapped it in her fingers, the whole head protruding from her fist. He puffed and shivered under her touch. Leaning forward she lowered her head. His body tensed. She raised her eyes to find his narrowed, his mouth rounded and dry. “Relax,” she cooed, “just enjoy it,” and slipped his dick between her lips.A breath rattled his chest. She felt the blanket cinch beneath them as his fingers gripped and pulled. First she teased the glans, undulating her tongue beneath, then around and over the top. His hips shot up to meet her mouth. She lightened her hold, welcoming him in deeper.She bobbed her head to the rhythm of the music – down on one and three, up on two and four. His cock was rock hard, curving into the roof of her mouth with each descent. He sighed, and groaned, and grunted; the tone and timbre of each growing more urgent with each passing minute.Shauna's free hand dove under her dress and between her legs, fingers plucking aside the damp lace and strumming the slick, smooth lips of her pussy. Her partners were usually more experienced. More restrained. It had been some time since one had responded with such virginal enthusiasm. And she found it to be quite the turn-on.She held her neck as steady as she could, relinquishing control of tempo and depth. Ty trembled, huffing air through gritted teeth. Shauna peeked to find his eyes closed, neck strained, deep blue veins pulsing through. Sensing the moment, her fingers left the base of his dick and curled around his balls. She tightened her lips to a gentle squeeze.Ty stalled. A guttural growl forced its way into the air. His eyes popped open wide and fixed on Shauna's. With a batting of lashes, she pushed down on his throbbing cock until the tip of her nose bumped his abdomen. A heartbeat later, torrents of warm, viscid cum spewed into her mouth.The jets struck the back of her palate, sloshing over her tonsils and sliding down her throat. She swallowed hard but couldn't keep up. Each burst seemed richer than the last, filling her cheeks and leaking from the corners of her mouth. Her own juices deluged her fingers in response; the squelching filling the gaps between Ty's staggered gasps.A dozen spurts later his orgasm subsided. Shauna held his cock a little longer, savoring its texture on her lips and the mild, distinct flavor of his seed. She moved with him as his hips sagged back to the mattress, sinking him deeper to the root of his erection. After one final gulp she sucked in her cheeks and lifted her head, teasing the remaining fluids from the head of his dick.He gawked at her, speechless. She pulled her fingers from her pussy and held them up in front of her. They gleamed in the light, strands of grool clinging to her knuckles as she separated them. Fixing on him she sucked each finger into her mouth, swabbing them clean before licking her lips. Ty's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed flat on the bed.Shauna giggled. Pushing off she rocked to her feet. She looked at him spread over the rumpled blanket, his penis twitching on his tummy. She nodded, pleased with herself. Sweeping her hair out of her face she took the gift sack from the doorknob and the note card from the desk, slipping the latter into the former.“Did you enjoy your present?” she asked, slinging the bag over her shoulder.Ty groaned a sigh, his satisfaction evident. A smile lit Shauna's lips.“Good,” she said, “that's great.” She made her way back to the door. “You know, Santa can't offer gifts like this to everyone, so…let's keep this between us, okay?”An arm raised and a hand approximated a wave before tumbling limp to the mattress. She took it as a yes. Catching her reflection in the window she adjusted her hat. “Merry Christmas Ty,” she said softly, before disappearing into the corridor.8:05 amSnowflakes drifted past the tall narrow windows of the student lounge separating the north and south wings of the third floor. Curled up at the far end of the couch opposite the ping pong table, Shauna twisted the cap off a bottle of diet soda and took a sip. Pulling her phone from the bag she checked the time. Javon would arrive in fifteen minutes. Plenty of time to finish her drink.She stretched out across the cushions and downed another swig. This one excited her more than the others. She and Javon were casually acquainted. Though both juniors they rarely shared classes. But they saw each other often around campus; playing pool in the lounge, grabbing coffee at Starks, or stocking up on dollar tacos Tuesday nights at Frankie's. And always, always flirting.Nothing ever came of it, unfortunately. He was putting himself through school and the scholarships just weren't enough. So he needed to work a lot. Every chance he got he'd bank some overtime or pick up an extra shift. That didn't leave much time for anything else. But today was Christmas Eve. The print shop would be closed tomorrow, so he couldn't go in tonight. Which she hoped would free up just enough time for what she had in store.A door closed in the distance, followed by footsteps in the hallway behind her. She checked her phone. He was early. She chugged another mouthful of soda, then quietly stuffed everything into the bag. The footsteps halted. A latch turned and a door opened, then closed. She counted to thirty, then slid off the couch and left the lounge, rounding the corner toward 317.8:08 amShauna waited, impatiently, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Still no response. She knocked again, harder this time. Shuffling noises, then heavy footfalls. The door swung open on a scowling Javon, his uniform shirt crumpled in his fist, muscles chiseled and taut. She smiled up at him, head cocked to the side. He looked her over, his mood softening as he recognized who she was.“Hey,” he said, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing here?”She shrugged, ignoring the twinge in her pussy. “Waiting to see you. Can I come in?”Javon retreated inside, tossing his shirt on the bed and perching on the edge of his dresser. Shauna followed, taking quick stock of the room. Clean and sparse. Suitable for someone who spent very little time there. She turned her attention to him. Tall and dark, with bold, crisp features. His hands splotched with cyan and yellow ink from the press.“Is um…is this a bad time?”“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I was just going to take a shower, then go down for a nap.” He waved a hand in her direction. “Soooo, who are you supposed to be?”“I'm a Christmas elf,” she replied. “Santa's Helper.”Javon's eyes widened. “Oh. You're a lot taller than I would have expected of an elf.”“Well, we're not all size challenged artisans baking cookies in the off-season you know. Some of us are taller, and educated, and…really cute.”He laughed, his pecs jumping. “That's fair. Please forgive my ignorance of the elf community. I don't know any – aside from you.”She shrugged the bag off her shoulder and reached inside, crossing the carpet between them. “Listen, she began, “Santa knows how hard you work to be here, and how much that keeps you from having a life. So, he got you a little gift. It won't make up for having to be here over the holidays, but it might help take the edge off?”She pulled out a red envelope and handed it to him. He stared at it, his face cycling through several emotions, settling on confused.“Thanks,” he said, “that's…really sweet. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything.”Shauna smiled to herself, setting the bag on the floor. “Open it.” She wandered past him to the window. Raising the blinds she took a quick peek outside before turning and sliding up onto his desk, swinging her feet freely beneath.Javon zipped a finger under the flap and extracted the card; a red-nosed Rudolph printed on the cover. As he shook it open a white note card fluttered out. He snatched it out of the air and held it up. A sketch in black marker graced the white space.Shauna watched over his shoulder as he stared at the figures suggested by the swooping lines. He fanned the card, then turned and eased off his seat. He walked over to her, holding it up, the image upside down. His mouth curled in one corner. “This is uhhh…you and me?”She squinted at the picture. “Well…right-side up and all, but…sure.” She took it from him and snapped it on the desk. Her arms extended, fingers wedging themselves between the waist of his jeans and the warm, smooth skin of his abdomen. She reeled him in between her legs, squeezing them in hers. “Come on,” she said, thumbs separating the button and peeling the zipper. “Take a break.”Javon reached out, tracing the curl of her ear with his finger. Tilting his head, he leaned in for a kiss. Shauna planted a hand in the center of his chest, stopping his lips a hair's breadth from hers. His heartbeat pulsed through her arm and gut, thumping through her clit like a kick drum. She tapped a finger on the card beside her. He glanced down. Then back at her. She smiled. Pushed him away.She hopped off the desk, lowering her eyes to the height of his fly. Waiting. Javon nodded. In a single swoop he shoved his jeans to the floor and stepped out. The outline of his cock bulged the breathable fabric of his boxer briefs, curving down his right leg. A squeak left Shauna's throat. She reached inside and fished it out, needing both hands to hoist the shaft.It hardened in her grip, rising, reaching for its target. She pulled a few long strokes, its heat warming her hands. She had imagined what he might be hiding. But none of those dreams fell short of reality. Reluctantly she let go. Eyes fixed on her prize she slowly turned round, bending over the desk. She shuffled her feet a shoulder's width apart and casually wiggled her ass.Javon stepped up, his demeanor all business. Stroking his meat with one hand he grabbed the hem of her dress in the other and flipped it up over her butt. Her firm white cheeks glowed in the morning light. He took the waistband of her panties and rolled them down her hips and thighs, abandoning them around her calves and exposing her labia to the chill of the room.She was sopping wet. He swiped his penis along her slit, greasing it with her cream. Current bolted up her spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She threw her ass toward him, anxious to be filled. But he took his time, lubing every inch to a slippery shine. Finally satisfied, he set a palm in the small of her back and wedged the tip of his cock between her folds. Slow and steady, he sank into her vagina.Shauna gasped, eyes round. Her knees buckled, fingertips clawing at the laminate as her canal expanded to accommodate the intruder. It was thicker than any dick or dildo she remembered. And she was suddenly grateful he'd been so careful to slicken up.He took shallow, steady thrusts, loosening her vice a touch each time. Short, silent breaths gave way to grunts and groans. She tried to restrain herself in case anyone still left was walking the halls. But it was a losing battle. The pressure coiling inside would soon be too much to contain.Javon curled over her. Reaching into her dress he freed her breasts from their padded sling and cupped one in each hand. He pinched her nipples between strong fingers, yoking her tits to her clit with little bolts of lightning. The heat of the moment telegraphed through her skin, flushing her ears, cheeks, and chest a robust, rosy pink.He pushed on, diving deeper into her velvet pouch. Her arms burning, Shauna lowered her elbows and forehead to the desk. Her hair shrouded her periphery, leaving the only clear view that of her lover's balls swaying back and forth between her thighs. A delightful fog rolled over her brain, occluding everything outside the aura of their bodies.“Do you want it all,” Javon whispered, his voice piercing the veil.Shauna turned her head, mouth agape. “That's not all of it?”A baritone chuckle rumbled from his chest. He straightened up, releasing her boobs for a firm hold of her waist. He eased down the throttle, slowing his rhythm. Measuring the distance. She caught his eyes for a moment, glimpsing the same lechery she felt coursing through her veins. He smiled at her. Then hilted his cock in her pussy.“Uhhh gawd.” A wave of pleasure rippled out from her core, breaking over her entire body. She couldn't gauge how big he was, but he was now twice as deep as he had been seconds ago.He gave her a moment and a few shallow dips before ramping up the pace; drawing his dick out to the barb each time before plunging back in. Shauna's ass rippled, limbs shuddering under each impact. She stretched her arms to brace herself. But her hands squeaked against the desk each time he crashed into her, jolting her forward.She began to lose control. Her pelvic muscles clenched; labia stretching around his shaft. He growled his approval. A stern smack stung her left buttock, forcing a squeal from her larynx and a shock to her sex. Another followed, echoing off the walls into her ears. Her strength failed, drooping her back and turning her legs to jelly.Javon grabbed hold of one and lifted it, bending the knee and setting it securely on the desktop. He continued to hammer away. The cords binding her orgasm began to fray. She imagined his view from behind; her sodden pink snatch vulgarly splayed for the massive dark rod plowing her gut. Words escaped her, leaving only screams and moans to communicate her desire.8:42 amShauna's head was swimming, her brain just mush. But she held on, wanting this ecstasy to last forever. Her hat flew off her head, landing silently on the windowsill. Long fingers raked through her hair. They gathered her curls into his fist and pulled. Her head snapped back, jaw dropped, eyelids fluttering. The cords snapped and the coil exploded.She bore down on his dick, silent and stiff, her body racked with orgasm. Her toes dug into the carpet, her raised foot flopping about over the edge of the desk. She slapped the top with her hands, translating her contractions into a frantic rhythm beat out for Javon to hear. Her juices flowed freely, seeping out past his cock and dribbling down her thighs. And through all this, he continued to fuck her.Shauna's orgasm continued in suspended animation, tweaking her muscles and prickling her skin. As snug as he fit there was now no friction. He glided in and out like a piston in a well-oiled machine. He pumped harder, faster, working to create resistance. But her pussy was a flooded mess and that wasn't going to change.He whispered something toward her ear. A question? She couldn't decipher the words. But it didn't matter. As long as he kept filling her, perpetuating this feeling, he could do whatever he wanted. She nodded as best she could. The pounding slowed and the hand holding her waist released. The slapping of skin ceased, and his penis slipped out of her vagina.The emptiness was deflating, like the air had been sucked from her lungs. She turned to look but he stopped her, pushing her head back down to the desk. She opened her mouth to demand he continue and that's when she felt it. The pressure on the dip of her anus. Her insides knotted up. Everything clenched, then released. Her rosebud relaxed, and Javon's cock surged up her ass.She held her breath, expecting pain. But there was none. Only an indescribable fullness she had never experienced before. Each time he retracted her stomach dropped. Each plunge threatened to split her at the seams. Orgasm ripped through her again, rattling her bones and sweating from every pore. The room closed in, swaddling her in a thick black heat. She screamed but heard nothing. Felt only his cock.His fingers curled over her shoulders and around her neck. He pushed and pulled her with new urgency, opposing the swing of his hips. He'd found the resistance he was seeking, and it drove him on toward ferocious climax.In her stupor, Shauna somehow regained control of her limbs. She twisted an arm behind her back and flailed at his. When he looked down, wanton lust blazing in his eyes, she willed words from her lips.“Cum in me,” she cried, breathless, desperate for his load. “Cum in my ass.”He glared at her, neck craned, jaw set. He shifted his weight, pinning her tits to the desk and raising her butt. He tried to hold out a bit longer. But she was too tight and he was too far gone. Nodding his head Javon closed his eyes and buried his throbbing cock balls deep, erupting hot semen deep in her bowels.He roared in release, his balls smashed against her pussy, rocking into the curve of her ass. The pressure lifted her foot from the floor, grinding her hip into the edge of the desktop. But she didn't care. His cum splattered inside her, capping her climax with a warm, gooey buzz. Her buttocks quaked with each spasm. She had his cock. All of it. In the moment, that was everything.9:04 amGradually the pumping slowed. The pressure on her back eased and the room drifted back into focus. She glimpsed herself in a mirror near the window; hair disheveled, bare breasts smushed beneath the cockled red fabric; a trembling leg coiled on the desk, panties dangling casually from her ankle.“You are so fuckin' hot,” said the voice in her ear. She cooed, not yet able to formulate words. He rested in her a moment longer, sharing her warmth.When they'd finally caught their breath Javon stood tall. Kneading his hands into the meat of her cheeks he pushed himself back, emerging from her ass with an obscene wet slurp. Empty, Shauna sighed, the void disappointing. Her rosebud gaped, then winked several times before shrinking back into place.Javon slumped against the wall near the window. Fumbling with the latch he cracked it open. December rushed in, swirling round their bodies and raising goosebumps on their skin. Shauna shivered, invigorated, the cold soothing her scalded sex. Watching her lover she smeared her cream over her pussy and along the crack of her ass. His organ flexed toward her, but Javon shook his head. Smiling, she wriggled off the desk.On wobbly legs she gathered the note card and the bag and set them on the edge of the bed. Rummaging around in the neck of her dress she tucked her tits back into her bra and plumped them into position. Javon sauntered over, her hat in one hand, soggy panties in the other. She took the cap and fit it over her head.“Can't put those back on,” she said of her underwear. “You keep them.”He nodded, draping them over the corner of the television. She shouldered the bag and looked up at him.“Did Santa get you what you wanted?”He laughed. She followed his eyes down to his semi-hard, polished rod.“I think he fucking crushed it,” he replied. Closing the gap between them he lowered his voice. “Tell me something though. Is this strictly a Christmas situation, or…are…special occasions not required.”Shauna shrugged, the corners of her mouth curling up. “Why don't you come by sometime and find out,” she offered. “You know where I live.” She gave his penis a playful nip and tug and backed out into the hallway.9:13 amShauna stood quietly outside Room 334, gently swaying to a tune in her head. Her fingertips tingled and her pussy hummed along to the beat, still riding the high of the last half-hour. A trickle of semen stained her inner thigh, the remainder of Javon's deposit still trapped inside. She smoothed the front of her dress and flipped the pom of the hat to the side. She was a few minutes behind schedule. But that shouldn't be critical here. Ready for more, she knocked on the door.There was a rustling inside. A few moments later the door opened on a beautiful raven-haired Japanese girl in a tight anime tee shirt and bright blue boyshorts. Seemingly surprised, the girl dropped the pencil she held in her left hand.“Hey Sachiko,” Shauna chirped.Sachiko ripped off her headphones and flashed a nervous smile. Shauna nodded inside. “Can I come in for a minute?” Sachiko glanced over at something Shauna couldn't see, then backed her slender frame away from the door. Shauna strode inside, the latch clicking shut behind her.Unlike her first two stops, this was a bit of a gamble. Their contact had been minimal, generally restricted to her RA duties. And her scouting report was incomplete. She knew Sachiko was a sophomore, and a graphic design major. She spent summers at home in Osaka. But she couldn't afford to fly back and forth for breaks, so she usually spent them on campus.Rumor was she was into women. Of this Shauna had no confirmation. But from their interactions in the dorm and Sachiko's shyness and fluster around particular friends she did have a feeling. It was risky. But that heightened the thrill.The room was warm and cozy, lit by a floor lamp and a cube on the nightstand. Fuzzy orange pillows adorned the loveseat below the window. Incense burned in a jade tray on the corner of the dresser and a thick down comforter covered the bed. Several sketchpads scattered across the desk, a collection of porcelain cats lining the shelf above. It was clearly the space of someone needing a touch of home.“Am I like…in trouble…or something?” Sachiko wondered.“No,” Shauna laughed, amused as much by her apparent discomfort as the absurdity of the question. “I mean, have you ever been in trouble? I just wanted to wish you Happy Holidays.”Sachiko blushed. Her face made several contortions before settling on a half nod and awkward smile. “Th…thank you,” she stammered. Shauna pinched her lips between her teeth. So far so good.“I like your kitties,” Shauna continued, drifting toward the shelf. She scanned for messages, photos, anything that might give her a clue.“My sister sends me a new one for my birthday every year,” Sachiko offered.“They're beautiful.” She spotted a sheet of paper with dark smudges sticking out of the pad on top of the pile. “What's this?” she asked, reaching for it.“What? Oh!” Sachiko leapt toward her, mortified. “It's nothing, I just – ”Before she could swipe the pad Shauna had the page, staring at a gorgeous unfinished graphite sketch of a sleeping woman. She lay on her side, head on a pillow, hands underneath. Bikini panties cloaked her nethers, an arm crossed her bare breasts. And her face. Well…. Her face was very familiar. Shauna smiled to herself. This might work after all.Sachiko slunk back as Shauna turned around. She studied the drawing a moment longer, impressed by the resemblance. Finally, she looked up at Sachiko. The rosy hue of her cheeks crept into her face and neck. Shauna noticed for the first time she wasn't wearing a bra.“Did you draw this?”Sachiko sighed, looking everywhere forward. “I um…. It…it's for a class.”“You did it from memory.”She rubbed her arms with her hands. “Yeah. It just…works that way.”“It's amazing.”Shauna returned the drawing to the desk. Sluffing off the bag she retrieved the final card. “I know you don't really celebrate Christmas,” she said, “but it can't be easy being here by yourself while everyone else is. So, I got you a gift.”The silver envelope rested in her palm while Sachiko hesitated, her name glittering in gold marker. She looked up, embarrassment clouding her eyes. Shauna smiled, extending her hand. Finally, Sachiko accepted.She zipped open the flap and removed the card. A red-nosed Rudolph blinked at her from the cover. Shauna dropped the bag on the loveseat. She clasped her hands behind her back and crossed her legs at the ankles, a flirty little swivel seizing her hips. Sachiko picked the note card from the fold and looked closely. Her fingers began to tremble.Shauna sidled up closer, tucking a lock of Sachiko's hair behind her ear. Sachiko jumped at the light touch. But her gaze remained fixed on the card. Her lips parted. No sound escaped.“If you want me to stop,” Shauna murmured, “just let me know.”She kissed Sachiko's ear lobe, rolling it between her lips before drifting to her cheek and the nape of her neck. Sachiko's tremor spread to her chest. The cards fell from her grasp. Shauna continued down, over her shoulders to the swell of her breasts. She caressed one in each palm, grazing the nipples with the soft cotton of the shirt.Sachiko tangled her fingers in Shauna's hair. They curled and flexed as Shauna descended, raising her shirt and kissing her navel. She lingered there, circling, lips skimming Sachiko's butter-smooth, unblemished skin. She smelled of cherry blossom and jasmine. Shauna filled her head with the scent, priming her for the peach she was about to unwrap. Sachiko's hushed whisper floated down from above. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.”Sinking to her haunches Shauna eyed Sachiko's sex. A small wet spot darkened the fabric between her legs. Shauna peeled the underwear down over Sachiko's ass and thighs, pooling them around her feet. Exposed to the low light was a plump, tidy pussy, closely cropped dark pubic hair gracing her mound. Shauna's lips quivered. She bowed, pressing her face between Sachiko's thighs, sopping up the heat.Sachiko moaned, easing her legs apart, welcoming Shauna's tongue between her folds. Her entire body shook, chopping her breaths between chattering teeth. Shauna probed a little deeper. Sachiko doubled over, humping Shauna's mouth. Shauna yipped with delight. She shook her head side to side, slathering Sachiko's light sweet syrup over her cheeks and chin.She dug her nails into the brunette's ass, spreading her cheeks and kneading the meat. Sachiko mauled her own breasts, stretching and twisting the characters on her shirt into impossible shapes. Buffeted by Sachiko's gyrations Shauna wobbled on the balls of her feet. It was all she could do to hold on for the ride and she found herself failing at that. Toppling to her butt she roped an arm around Sachiko's neck and pulled her ear to her dripping lips.“Sit on my face,” she hissed.Sachiko fell to her knees, straddling Shauna's chest and pinning her to the floor. On all fours she scooched forward over the blonde's shoulders until her succulent snatch hovered over her RA's gaping mouth. Shauna's tongue darted out, flicking Sachiko's swollen clit. Stifling a scream Sachiko collapsed on Shauna's kisser, squeezing her ears between her thighs and swirling her pussy over her lips.Shauna lost herself in Sachiko. Inhaling her essence. Drinking her qi. She thrilled at her lover's responses – involuntary, honest and pure. There was no pretention. Only the passion of an inexperienced girl wholly submitting to her desires. She reveled in it, lapping at Sachiko's sex from the hood of her clit to the crease of her ass.Sachiko's back arched, thrusting out her chest. Her head lolled back, eyes strafing the ceiling. She squirmed on Shauna's face, blissfully ignorant of her weight, Shauna's nose, or her need to breathe. She reached back between the Shauna's splayed legs, probing under her dress until her fingers found the blonde's honeypot and slithered inside.Strangling Sachiko's wrist in her thighs Shauna groaned into her pussy. The vibrations spurred Sachiko's building orgasm, winding her body tighter and tighter, pushing her fingers faster, deeper. The circuit closed, the feedback loop complete. Every flip of the tongue, every curl of a digit, amplified the next.Sachiko bucked and thrashed. Shauna swirled and writhed. Again and again they traded blows until suddenly Sachiko fell silent, her body rigid, muscles strained. Clutching fistfuls of Shauna's hair Sachiko spread her knees and bore down, smashing her quaking pussy into Shauna's lips and gushing slippery, viscous cum all over her face.Racked with spasms she hunched over Shauna's head, wave after crashing wave of orgasm pummeling her sex.9:38 amWhen the contractions finally slowed, Shauna worked her hands up to Sachiko's buttocks and nudged her. Spent, Sachiko rolled away, settling on her back against the foot of the bed. Shauna's chest heaved, gulping the cool dry air. Her eyes re-adjusted to the light. Reaching up she brushed the hat off her head and raked her fingers through moist matted hair. Arms flopping to the floor she sighed. That went well.She rolled her head and looked at Sachiko. The junior lay knees up, feet flat on the floor, her arms draped between her legs – the odd twitch in her muscles interrupting her stillness. Shauna willed herself up and crawled over. Finding her eyes shut she pressed in close and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. Sachiko smiled.“Merry Christmas,” Shauna whispered. Sachiko nodded, radiant from her orgasm. Shauna stroked her ear. “If you want me to model for you sometime,” she added, “give me a call.”She gathered her things and prepared to leave. As she passed the mirror on the closet door she stopped to look. Her face and neck glistened, glazed with Sachiko's juices. She tossed the hat in her hand, raising it to wipe herself clean. But she didn't. She decided instead she liked the way it looked. And she'd wear it a little longer. Pursing her lips, she slipped out of Sachiko's room.Light as a feather she skipped down the hall toward her room. She slowed passing Javon's door, wondering if he was already asleep. Her phone chimed in the bag, interrupting her curiosity. Retrieving it she scanned the screen and frowned. Two texts and a missed call. All from her brother.“Hey Josh,” she answered.“Yo, where the hell have you been?” There was an urgency in his tone. “I've been calling you. I'm out front, let's go!”She frowned. “Wait, what time is it?”“Quarter to ten. I told you I'd be here at 9:30, remember?”She thought for a minute, then rolled her eyes, realizing what went wrong. “Fuck,” she spat. “I thought you meant 9:30 your time.”“So you're not ready?”“No, I packed last night. I'll be right down.”Hanging up she shook her head. How did she make that mistake? She thought she'd have an hour to shower and clean up, but now they were running late. No time for any of that. Swiping the key card from her sock she popped into her room and tossed the gift bag on the bed. Snagging her backpack and navy peacoat from the closet she dashed back out headed for the lobby.9:52 amShauna flung open the passenger door of the coupe and tumbled inside, stuffing the backpack between her feet as she settled in the seat. Her teeth chattered from their brief exposure to the cold. Rubbing her hands together near the warm air vent she looked over at her brother behind the wheel. He stared at her, forehead crinkled, a mix of confusion and amusement scrawled across his lips.“What,” she said, staring back.He glanced down at her bare thighs – the coat just covering her lap – then back at her scowl.“Nice touch,” he replied, pointing to the bright red pileus cap.“Thanks,” she quipped, flashing a smile.“But you know it's snowing, right?”She flipped him the bird. He shrugged.“You're going to get Uncle Leo in trouble today.”Shauna tried to stifle her laugh. “Just drive Josh.”He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. “Unlike you,” he said, “I got an early start. So I'm going to get some coffee. Did you eat already?”“Yup,” she nodded. “Several times.”Josh's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.At the next light he made a left and turned into the coffee shop drive-thru. Waiting in line behind a pick-up he turned to his sister. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look a little…weird.”Shauna checked herself in the side mirror. She could taste Ty's spunk on her tongue; feel Javon's cum in her ass and Sachiko's pussy all over her face. A shiver buzzed her clit. She reclined the seat several notches and sighed, beaming at the ceiling.“Yeah,” she said softly. “I'm just…filled with Christmas spirit.” Quietly she shoved her hands beneath her legs to keep from touching herself for the remainder of the trip.By TheSleepingKing for Literotica

Wedged between a week of on-set cooking and the next wave of holiday meals, Dave, Chris, and Noelle reflect on reindeer snacks, chuck-roast frontiers, and the large-format meals for which the season provides a reason. Plus: Croatia vs. Brazil, geopolitical penalty kicks, Andrew Luck, Olivia Rodrigo, armchair therapist Chris Ying, home cooking vs. pro cooking, shioyaki fish, Yorkshire pudding, hot pot vs. fondue, anti-elf sentiment, dealing with a Christmas tree in NYC, FaceTiming Santa, the Feast of the Seven Fishes vs. Bò bảy món, abalone sauce, and another Chinese-restaurant-menu debate. Hosts: Dave Chang and Chris Ying Guest: Noelle Cornelio Producers: Sasha Ashall and Jordan Bass Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

What happens if the ball gets wedged between the pin and the green? Find out about this very new rule and if you agree ... or not!

For your Monday, Six Word Weekends, Wedged, Song Detective and lots more! Including the Announcment of the Kitchen O'Connell Winner!

For your Monday, Six Word Weekends, Wedged, Song Detective and lots more! Including the Announcment of the Kitchen O'Connell Winner! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoicesSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Jamie accidentally dried her hair off with a towel that has nair on it. Scientist at Boston University did not alert the government they were doing experiments with covid. Kanye is being sued by George Floyd's family after saying George died from fentanyl and not asphyxiation. In podcast Russell Wilson's former team mates implied that people can only contact Wilson through a manager. Marshawn Lynch said he wanted to reach out to Wilson because of his struggles in Denver, but Richard Sherman said "reach out to who, his manager"? Carson gives us a Bachelor in Paradise update. Nestle fudge packed cookie dough has been recalled because it contains plastic. BJ and Jamie have finished putting up their Halloween decorations, but some of their neighbors aren't participating in Halloween. Martha Stewart did a commercial while topless to promote a coffee brand. BJ doesn't know what a thirst trap is. Meghan Markle said she felt objectified on Deal or No Deal. A woman who was sat between 2 obese people on a flight complained on Twitter saying "I am currently - literally - WEDGED between two OBESE people on my flight. This is absolutely NOT acceptable or okay. If fat people want to be fat, fine. But it is something else entirely when I'm stuck between you, with your arm rolls on my body, for 3 hours." The airline she was on comped her $150. 

A woman who was sat between 2 obese people on a flight complained on Twitter saying "I am currently - literally - WEDGED between two OBESE people on my flight. This is absolutely NOT acceptable or okay. If fat people want to be fat, fine. But it is something else entirely when I'm stuck between you, with your arm rolls on my body, for 3 hours." The airline she was on comped her $150. 

Hour 4 - Meghan Markle said she felt objectified on Deal or No Deal. A woman who was sat between 2 obese people on a flight complained on Twitter saying "I am currently - literally - WEDGED between two OBESE people on my flight. This is absolutely NOT acceptable or okay. If fat people want to be fat, fine. But it is something else entirely when I'm stuck between you, with your arm rolls on my body, for 3 hours." The airline she was on comped her $150. 

On November 12, 1917, the body of an unknown woman was discovered on some wooded property outside of the village of Linden, New York. Her identity was unknown – and so was that of her killer. It became the first in a series of horrific murders that remain unsolved to this day.Sponsored by BetterHelp. Get 10% off your first month at https://betterhelp.com/ahpTimestamps:Monologue: 00:00:00 - 00:25:50Discussion: 00:26:00 - 00:58:30Check out our updated website and sign up for our newsletter at AmericanHauntingsPodcast.comCheck out our merch at AmericanHauntingsClothing.comFollow us on Twitter @AmerHauntsPod, @TroyTaylor13, @CodyBeckSTLFollow us on Instagram @AmericanHauntingsPodcast, @TroyTaylorgram, @CodyBeckSTLSubscribe for more bonus content on our Patreon pageThis episode was written by Troy TaylorProduced and edited by Cody BeckMusic for this season is performed by Packy Lundholm and you can find more about his music and upcoming shows on Twitter, Instagram, Bandcamp, Soundcloud, Facebook, YouTube, and PackyLundholm.com Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Wedged between the more seismic Millennials and Gen-Z populations, Zillennials are sometimes known as the "lost" generation, a term which belies its importance as a transitional population at the vanguard of enormous societal changes, particularly as they relate to attitudes and behaviors around Beauty, identity and culture.  In this candid and wide-ranging interview, we listen to one Zillennial as she shares her personal views and experiences on everything from fashion and body positivity to online personas and dating. As she attempts to help us decipher her generation's views on Beauty, fashion, and gender, we come to a better understanding about some of the changing attitudes that are driving the creation of Beauty's new normal.

The 90s dance craze bought us some of the most memorable music of the time.  Wedged between over-sized flannel and Raiders Starter  jackets, the spandex singlet wearing contingency of 90s lore emerged as a popular genre.  Although there weren't many who admitted to enjoying the pulse pounding bass, the operatic and over-the-top choruses replete with the obligatory inexplicable rap interlude, many of us actually enjoyed (maybe not publicly) this unique, often times lampooned genre.  What we can admit through it's campy cacophony is that we enjoyed every minute of reminiscing about it.  This week on Formidable Opponents, we discuss and debate "Best 90s Dance Song."    Reach out to us and follow us:formidableopponents@gmail.com (Contact us)https://formidableopponents.buzzsprout.com/ (Website)@Fopponents (Twitter)formidable_opponents (Instagram)FormidableOpponents (Facebook)@formidableopponents (Tik Tok)https://www.buymeacoffee.com/foropponents (Show us some love)Cover art by Creative Little Pillhttps://www.instagram.com/creativelittlepill/https://creative-little-pill.creator-spring.com/Sponsored by Athletic Greenshttps://www.athleticgreens.comUse custom check out code (“EMERGING”)Support the show

This scared the living sh*t out of Dunc Follow us on Instagram, Facebook, and Tik Tok

A.M. Edition for Aug. 9. Wedged between the Russian exclave of Kaliningrad and close Russian ally Belarus is a 45-mile corridor of NATO territory. WSJ Brussels bureau chief Dan Michaels says that Western military officials are worried Russia could resort to force to try to take over the border region, as once-unthinkable scenarios become a source of anxiety. Luke Vargas hosts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Mad Kim, Fury Road. Dandy, Where's My Car? We Mixed Darrens and Dudes. Beware of the Lake Ding Dong. I just saved 15% on my Insecurance! I wish all squatting domains looked this good. LasVegas Dot Com For All Your Toiletry Needs. I don't like eating beeeeeeees. A big fish and a dildo walk into a Fascinations. The Green Screen Place. Would You Eat a Dong Fish? If You Spend 35 Million on a Forwarding URL, You Have too Much Money. CVS Convenience Casino. Wedged into a Goo Hole. Making and Shaking with Bill. Human Trafficking with Bobby and more on this episode of The Morning Stream.

Mad Kim, Fury Road. Dandy, Where's My Car? We Mixed Darrens and Dudes. Beware of the Lake Ding Dong. I just saved 15% on my Insecurance! I wish all squatting domains looked this good. LasVegas Dot Com For All Your Toiletry Needs. I don't like eating beeeeeeees. A big fish and a dildo walk into a Fascinations. The Green Screen Place. Would You Eat a Dong Fish? If You Spend 35 Million on a Forwarding URL, You Have too Much Money. CVS Convenience Casino. Wedged into a Goo Hole. Making and Shaking with Bill. Human Trafficking with Bobby and more on this episode of The Morning Stream.

It's not just birds who need to spread their wings. This personal story from #Nigeria is taken from the forthcoming anthology, Wedged between Man and God.

More than 400,000 Ukrainian refugees have poured across the border into the small country of Moldova, one of the poorest countries in Europe. Wedged between Ukraine and Romania, Moldova is a little bigger than Maryland, but it has received the most refugees per capita of any country in this crisis. Now Moldova is providing assistance and support to those who are choosing to stay in the country. Even as they open their doors to Ukrainian refugees, many in the small country fear they may be next in line for invasion by Russian forces. Moldova declared independence from the Soviet Union shortly after its fall in 1991, but since then there have been Russian troops stationed in a separatist region of the country called Transnistria. Moldova fears it would not be able to fend off a Russian offensive. NPR's Frank Langfitt explains why Moldova is in such a perilous position, and we talk to aid workers about how they are supporting Ukranians fleeing war.In participating regions, you'll also hear a local news segment to help you make sense of what's going on in your community.Email us at considerthis@npr.org.

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This week we discuss the Iroquois Confederacy. Wedged in between the British and the French this group found itself being courted by both groups, thus placing them into a dangerous game between the two powers.   Join us on social media!   Twitter: https://twitter.com/ushistpodcast Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/USPoliticalpodcast/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/uspoliticalpodcast/ Website: http://www.uspoliticalpodcast.com Bibliography: http://www.uspoliticalpodcast.com/bibliography/

TEXT US AND LET US KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!On this, the 60th episode of the The Darwin Awards podcast, we discuss some of the awe-inspiring ways that people have recently eliminated themselves from the gene pool. These include a cyclist who made an unfortunate decision, a man who fell into a cement-mixer, a burglar who fell in a scary location, and a bus full of bees on fire. If you enjoy the episode, CLICK BELOW AND JOIN US ON OUR PATREON for more content! https://www.patreon.com/thedarwinawardspodcastWatch these stories on our youtube:Darwbridge VS CyclistMan Falls In Cement MixerThief Wedged Between BuildingsA Bus Full Of BeesOur website: thedarwinawardspodcast.comInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/thedarwinawardspodcast/ If you have a submission for the coming week's episode, email us at thedarwinawardspodcast@gmail.comSupport the show