#you bet my bitch ass is going right back into the womens clothing section. that's where all the pretty shit is

[rogueddie]

Trans man Steve slowly absorbing Eddie's rants about conformity and trying to teach the kids to do what makes them happy, no matter what it is. And Steve starts to wonder why he really stopped enjoying feminine things; for his own comfort, or so others would take his gender identity seriously?

He starts wearing skirts first, then lip gloss and mascara. And it's not a lot, he still prefers masculine things, but he stops shying away from "girly" things. He lets himself enjoy the things that make him happy.

Eddie asks what made Steve finally start dressing for himself and, when Steve admits that it was Eddie, hes proud as punch. Whenever someone like El happily points out Steve doing something feminine ("he looks so cool!") Eddie proudly whispers that he helped do that.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #cant remember how I phrased the original version of this that i deleted but hopefully it goes better this time lol 🤞 #also this is why I don't like being called trans masc instead of trans man. as soon as I've transitioned enough to pass? #you bet my bitch ass is going right back into the womens clothing section. that's where all the pretty shit is

[wakandascrystal]

BET. I

Erik x BlackReader

Summary: Erik and his friends place a bet to get with you little does he know who you and family are. 

Part 2 

...............

It was a Sunday afternoon. Erik and his friends had decided to hang out at their regular spot. It was a joint Jadyn, Erik’s friend found. It had a music store in the front. Wall to wall with new and vintage CD’s, Tapes and Vinyl. But at the back was a lounging area, they served drinks. You also had the option to listen to what you had bought after.

Erik, Jadyn, Cole and Trey Had been coming here since high school. They loved it and they felt comfortable there. 

"Candice just texted me...Shit! I don't know what to do about her man. " 

Erik's friend Cole put down his phone and covered his face with both his hands after seeing a text from his ex-girlfriend.

Erik slid the phone down to his side of the table. "Let me see this."

He unlocked the phone and saw the massive text chain. 

“Are you still fighting with her?” Jadyn asked 

“Why do you even talk to her bro. She is so fucking toxic.....but then again she is thicker than a bowl o-“ Erik hit Trey in the chest 

“Shut up. He’s still in love with her. Don't do that. ” He let out a chuckle so did the others. 

“Are you done reading my shit.”

He skipped over the part where she was waffling about her feelings and read the last line.

"...Cole...she misses you and she wants to talk." Erik gave him a sly smile.

“We all know what that means?“ Trey let out. 

"I told you not to fall for bitches... pretty face, ass for days...now look. She be at your job, at your mom's....she acting like Mrs Cole Smith most of the time. "

Cole threw a punch at Erik's shoulder.

"Man stop acting like you the God at getting and letting go of bitches," Trey added

"You right I don't have to act. Cause I'm a God at that shit."

"that's because you're like Swae Lee...you only got one type...The high maintenance girls with daddy issues, who just wants to sit on your face and get a ride in your whip." Jadyn teased while throwing back a handful of salted peanuts

"Are you, by any chance insinuating that I only attract one type of girl and that I cannot keep any woman's attention," Erik said dramatically

Cole took a sip of his beer amused by Erik's realization. 

"Yes ...oh yes that exactly what I'm saying....since high school all the girls you've been with have looked the same...think about." 

Erik had never really thought about. He liked what he liked...so what, he thought.

"..There was Brenda, LaTisha, Linda..." Jadyn started raping the DMX verses. 

Erik deadpanned while Cole and Trey laughed out loud.

"....and the best part is even if you did go for a girl that wasn't your type ..she wouldn't like you....you suck when it comes to the romantic department. Man believe it or not but there are women out there who have standards."

"Any bitch would be lucky to have me look in their direction." Erik murmured

Cole coughed a bit and Erik felt offended.

"You very funny.... okay!... Check this out...prove it. You see that shawty over there..with the headwrap....the one in white." 

Erik turned. He saw you picking out vinyls. He looked you up and down.

"If you can get her to go on 10 dates with you and get her to drop the L word...and you can provide proof....we will give you 1 grand each."

"What! I do not have time for this bullshit." Jadyn blurted out

" Jadyn....tell me you don't want to see Erik The almighty pussy Slayer crash and burn.."

Cole egged him on.

While the three friends were arguing Erik locked his eyes on you. The Challenge sparked interest in him. 

You were different, definitely not his type. You had no large obnoxious name brand logo on your clothes or bag. Nor did you look like a conventional baddie that he usually goes for.

You looked like you smelled of vanilla and peach oils. Like you drank soya milk, meditated 3 hours a day and did yoga. He thought your body was cute..or nice ....the ass and titties could have been bigger though. Your hair didn't bother him. It looked pretty but he was just thinking about the logistics of it.

How does it look down?

How long was it? He wanted to know.

"Okay, I'll do it!" They went quite.

"You will?" Trey asked to verify

"Yeah. 10 dates? She has to say she loves me? Got It?” He was feeling confident. He leaned back in his chair. 

“Wait...one more thing you have to smash. “ 

“Yeah“ Cole shouted. “On the fifth date, you should have smashed... “ Erik nodded his head.

He stood up from his chair, downed his beer and walked over to you.

+++++++++++++++++++

“Why don't you get both.“ 

Your eyes shot up to him. He was too close to you so you stepped back wanted your personal space back. Erik noted that.

“I can't. I'm buying one for my dad and one for my uncle.“

“You're going to make your dad choose between Diana Ross and Ray Charles.“ You huffed at the stranger.

“He loves them both. But he can only get one.“ Erik looked over your face as you held the vinyls in your hand. Your face was soft and your lips pouty.

“What's your name?” he asked, eyes still on your soft golden skin.

“My name isn't going to help me pick one.“ you said in a whiny voice stressed about the decision you had to make. You really wanted to impress your father on his birthday. 

“ Well...I'm Erik..“

“I know. Your chain told the world your Erik...In what seems like 24k carats.“

“Okay ..let's make an exchange. I buy you any vinyls you want  and I take you out sometime.”

“Eww.“ Your outburst surprised Erik.

“Is that your game plan. Buy your way into my pants. I have my own money. Thank you.“

You move past him to the 90's sections. 

Browsing the Cds Erik followed. He had to come up with a better strategy. Throwing money at you wasn't going to work. He thought as you read the cd in your hand. 

Empathy. You looked like the caring type. Maybe you the type that falls for the weak and broken type of guy. He cleared his throat.

“Okay, my bad. I just...” He let out a fake sigh “ I just came out of a bad break up...Its been a while I mean.“

“....Shouldn't you give your heart time to heal from her....or him.“ You stepped away from him again. 

“Its been a year. I need to move on now.“ He looked down at his fingers, his face painted sadness. Of course, Erik was faking it but you fall for it. You noticed how handsome and tall he was. His locs. They were much shorter than yours but still suited him perfectly. He looked hurt. Seemed like whoever he spook of had hurt him pretty bad. 

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.“ 

“Y/N that's a beautiful name.“

“I'll make sure to tell my mom.“

Erik knew he had to act now while you were vulnerable to him.

“Let me take you out. One date if I bore you ...you won't have to see me again.“

“Okay.” You gave him your phone to type in his number, after saving it you warned him. 

“Don't mess with me, Erik. I'm serious. For your own good... “ You walked away to pay for the item you held to your chest. 

#erik x reader #Erik #Erik Killmonger #killmonger #killmonger x reader #erik imagine #Erik Stevens #black panther #black panther killmonger

[the-mykie-show]

Real women have curves (Negan x plus size reader)

After a backhanded comment from one of the other wives leaves you feeling down about your curves, Negan is there to offer reassurance that you're still hot as hell. Requested by @ninavantastisch

*warnings* fat shaming, body image issues, graphic descriptions of sex.

*rating* explicit

Why does Sherry always have to be such a bitch?

Negan had just brought a brand new box of lingerie back from a run for all the wives to go through. Most of them were excited, you were pretty sure all the wives but you were in it for the perks, the alcohol, the food, the clothes… the sex. None of them actually liked Negan, none of would have agreed to his wife without all that. Except for you.

The other wives knew that you actually had feelings for Negan, they also knew that you weren't skinny like they were and sometimes you were insecure about it. They used that to their full advantage.

Sherry had made the comment “OH sweetie, I doubt that any of this will fit you. I don't think Negan would have bothered raiding the plus size section.” when you went to look through the box of lingerie.

You pretended it didn't phase you but in reality it made tears well up in your eyes.

They were right, you were plus size and they weren't.

It didn't matter if it was the apocalypse or not, the world favored skinny girls.

In fact why the hell did Negan even want you? He could have his pick of 90% of the women at the sanctuary, so why did he pick the fat one?

Speak of the devil. You heard Negan's very distinct knock on the door to your room.

You knew exactly what he wanted, and for once you weren't feeling up to it.

“Go away, Negan! I'm not in the mood.” The door opened anyway.

Shit! You forgot to lock it.

“Are you PMSing or some shit?” he asked, swaggering over to the armchair in the corner of the room where he sat Lucille with gentle reverence that was reserved only for the bat.

“No. It's not my period you asshole.” you growl.

“Than what is it? If you ain't feeling fucking tonight that's fine, you know you can always say no anytime, but something is wrong and I'm not leaving until you tell me about it.” the man had an ironclad will, he wasn't joking when he said that he wouldn't leave. Might as well get this over with.

“Why did you ask me to be a wife?” you said, not bothering to look at him.

“Because you're hot as hell, you can deep throat, you're down to fuck like 98% of the time.” you expected the superficial sex answers but what he said next surprised you.

“And you're not whiny and entitled, we actually have conversations that go deeper than surface level, and you're the only one out of all my wives who actually gives a flying fuck about me.” you unburied your head from your blankets and looked at him, shocked.

“But I'm not like the others.”

“That's precisely the point, you're nothing like them, and that's why you're my favorite.” what? Was he bullshiting you?

“I'm your favorite?” you practically snort.

“Yep. I barely even fuck the others anymore, mostly just when you're on the rag or in a mood and I'm getting blue balls.”

“See, now I know you're lying because blue balls isn't a thing.” you couldn't dare let yourself hope he was being honest.

“Blue balls is a thing, and I'm dead ass serious.”

“So you don't care that I'm fat?”

“For Christ's sakes is that what this is about? What the fuck gave you that idea?” he seemed to legitimately believe his words.

“Everyone sees it, Negan. I'm not thin, I'm not pretty, I'm not sexy like the other girls.”

“What the fuck makes you think that your weight makes you any less hot? I wouldn't have asked you to marry me if I didn't think you were hot, and I sure as fuck wouldn't have done the things we've done in that bed right there if I wasn't into you. Now please explain to me who the hell made you feel like this so Lucille and I can go have a chat with them.”

“It's nobody in particular, just society.” He didn't believe you, you could tell.

“It was Sherry wasn't it? That woman is always running her mouth. You know she only said that shit because she's jealous of you, right?”

“Oh yeah, I'm sure she's just jealous of me with her gorgeous figure and half the sanctuary clambering to have sex with her.”

“Well than they can have her, because I haven't fucked her in months.” he couldn't actually be telling the truth could he? There was no way he was turning down the five other gorgeous women he had at his disposal for you. A little voice in the back of your head kept reminding you that Negan had never lied to you about anything else, so why would he start now?

“ I can tell that you still think I'm bullshiting you. So I guess I'll just have to prove it to you.” he walked over to your bed, and pulled all the covers off of you.

“Hey! What did you do that for?”

“ I'm going to prove it to you. You're gonna get up and strip for me, and then I’m going to fuck you till you can’t walk straight.” You wanted to protest, inform him that you would not be doing any of that he would be leaving now. But on the other hand, his words sent a shockwave of arousal through your body, and you really didn’t feel like taking care of yourself once he left tonight. You hadn’t had to masterbate in so long, you weren’t even sure you remembered how. Negan kept you satisfied enough that you barely ever felt the need to touch yourself anymore.

You gave in. Sitting up on the bed you get on your knees, sitting on your feet, and slowly strip off your tank top, leaving you in a lacy black bra that left little to the imagination, one of Negan's favorites on you.

You stand up and go to edge of the bed, turning to face the bed you peel your shorts off taking time to roll them over your round ass and down your legs to reveal the matching black panties you're wearing, you wiggle your ass a little with the movement of your hips, wanting some friction against your core where you can already feel some wetness starting to gather.

“uh-huh, that's enough babygirl, just stay there.” Negan comes up behind you, pushing your top half down onto the bed so you're bent over, ass in the air. He gives your ass a light smack, and then rubs his hand across it before before rolling your panties down to meet your shorts on the floor.

The sudden blast of cool air on your exposed core makes you shudder.

Negan's hands each grab an ass cheek kneading them and spreading them apart. He was such an ass man, and you had a lot of ass for him to love. Usually you hated it, but Negan had a way of making you love your curves.

He lightly kicks your legs further apart and kneels down behind you, you let out surprised moan as you feel his tongue lap at your clit, and then circle your entrance. His mouth teases your sensitive folds, while his hands hold your ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading them.

His tongue teases you until you're on the verge of coming and then pulls away, making you groan in frustration.

“Just stay like that, I want to take you from behind.” your heat pulses with need as Negan takes off his clothes and pumps himself a couple of times.

You brace yourself against the bed, getting yourself ready for the pounding you're about to take.

He lines himself up with your entrance and slides himself in with one thrust of his hips, fast enough to make you lose your breath but slow enough that you feel every inch. You moan and squirm pushing your ass back against Negan's hips to push him deeper inside you.

Negan is well endowed, and he knows what to do with it. Every time with him feels like your first time, the feeling of being so full but so needy at the same time. The feeling is even more intense in this position, you were kicking yourself for not trying it sooner. He'd asked to have you from behind several times, but you were always to self conscious to let him, worried about how your body would look, so exposed like this. For the first time you weren't worried about that.

“You like it from behind don't you? You like feeling me fill you up nice and deep, while I get to take in the awesome view of that gorgeous ass.” his hands were on your ass again, this time he delivered a rather hard swat that made you jump before he soothed the stinging skin with a soft rub. He spanked you a few more times, and you realized quickly that you liked it, each time the impact sent a shockwave of pleasure into your core and made your walls clench, each time he groaned.

He finally placed a hand on each ass cheek and spread them wide apart, watching himself slide in and out of your slick heat. You moan with the sudden rush of pleasure you feel as he picks up the pace, hitting a little sweet spot you never knew you had deep inside you with each stroke until the pressure becomes so much that you think you're going to explode. Not giving you any time to think about your insecurities.

“Look at how good you take it from this angle, my dirty girl! I bet that little pussy is just aching right now huh? Well come on babygirl soak my cock with that sweet release, and then I'm going to come all over that ass.”

And his words combined with a perfectly timed thrust send you over the edge, making you cry out in pleasure as the most intense orgasm of your life over takes your body, the pleasure comes in waves, all of which Negan fucks you through while you grip the sheets under you, holding on for dear life.

Then you feel something a little strange, a warm rush of liquid between your legs, at first you're mortified and you're about to apologize, but then Negan keeps on fucking you, not even faltering a single stroke. “that's it babygirl, soak my cock”

And then you feel a pleasure like no other, a warm tingle that makes your toes curl and your head spin, all you can do is let out a surprised little whine at the feeling. Your core is still spasming when Negan pulls out and pumps himself until he comes on your ass cheeks with a load, absolutely lewd moan.

You feel drunk, utterly stratified, like he'd scratched some itch you didn't know you'd had until it was gone, your thighs feel sticky with your release, and you can literally feel your clit and G-spot pulse with leftover pleasure.

What was that? You vaguely remember reading things about squirting in magazines before the world ended, but you never gave it much thought or thought it was something you were capable of.

“You alright baby?” he asks with a smug smirk.

You nod.

“Do you believe me now?” and for once you do. You never pictured the moment you finally loved your curves would include your thighs being sticky with your own come but you aren't complaining.

“Those other girls, well that's exactly what they are. Girls, you're a real woman, Y/N.”

Hope you liked it @ninavantastisch

Also tagging @negans-network

Ask to join the tag list to be notified whenever I post a fic, or request your own fic via my ask box.

#negan #twd negan #negan's thrist squad #negan fic #negan smut #negan x reader #the walking dead negan #negan fanfiction #negan reader insert #the walking dead fanfiction #mykie writes #negan fic requests #negan requests

[lifeofbouyd]

Wet Wet Fantasy

Now, I have always been a bad boy, always getting called up for the worst kinda shit. I got called up so often it felt like a daily routine. Even when I did nothing wrong, my name was always the first to be called. I didn’t let that stop my shine tho. Now that I think about it, most these girls dated me because I was a bad boy. I certainly wasn’t and still isn’t the cutest, but I have done well for myself when it comes on to women. I’ve dated chicks I still can’t believe would date someone like me. Famous celebrities today, but this ain’t about them. Throughout my early teens, I learnt three key things about women. Firstly, women know what they want. You might see her acting shady and think she’s a fool, but most times you’re just not what she needs. Secondly, if she puts her mind to it, nothing but herself can stop her getting it. Thirdly, women are better at cheering. In other words, when it comes on to covering up shit and selling lies, they stand dominant. I’ve always had a taste for independent/mature women. Twice my age or just out of school. Girls my age back then we’re more focused on fucking taxi men and conductors or hype dudes who were always called up for the worst kinda shit. Although I was amongst that batch, I wanted more than the average school girls. I wanted girls who were working, girls who could buy me lunch and especially girls who could sleep over. I wanted teachers, the sexy ones, the pretty ones, the ones who seemed like they’d be good to fuck.

Francene: Bouyd, I notice you’ve been hanging out with the wrong crowd and I’d like for you to change that. If you keep this up, you’ll be out of school in no time

I stood there looking at her waist, trying to glimpse a print of her pussy through her tight skirt. Bouyd, I am serious. Are you even listening to me?

Me: I heard every word you said, just preoccupied looking at your skirt.

She slapped herself on her forehead and shook her head. She turned around to walk away but turned back with a smile like she had an ingenious idea.

Francene: I know you like the view around there. How about you be a good boy and I’ll let you see all this without clothes?

🤤 like what the fuck? Why is she fucking with my brain like this? Does she even know how badly I want to fuck her? I bet this is a prank. But, that ass tho, is it worth a termination, will it be anything like I’ve imagined, will she scream the way she does in my mind when I jerk off at nights? I stood there shocked, not sure what to say or how to react. My mind was all over the place

Francene: 18764478396, save my number and message me when you decide what you want.

She walked away without even looking back. Shaking that big ass I wanted to slap so bad. I messaged her, asking for specific details of what she wanted exactly, trying to get an insight of what or who to be. She claimed to be single and heartbroken. “I see the potential in you I guess, I just want you away from those boys,” she said. We went from texting right throughout the day to talking late at nights. Before long it became a relationship. Who would have thought I’d actually get myself a teacher? Not me for sure lol. She made me look at life differently, made me realize what’s out there. Back then I was already dating someone, someone who’d slap a bitch if they got too close. Someone who’d kick my ass if she had the slightest idea I was cheating. But I just wanted to fuck Francene so bad. She talked about sex I’m a sense it seemed like a sport. At age fifteen I had already had sex with quite a few girls so I wasn’t shy or afraid to go for what I want. But when it came to her, I couldn’t decide what I wanted. Pussy, love, money? Somewhere along the line I did fall in love, at the beginning I wanted her Pussy and in the long run, came money. She changed the way I dressed, the way I talked and my chill habits. I remember her claiming to be sick one evening. She asked me to drive her home so she could get some rest. Of course, I did, she didn’t have to ask twice. I pulled up to her house and escorted her in with expectations of leaving shortly after. She gave me an ice cold magnum from the fridge and a fifty bag to roll two spliffs while she took a shower. I made myself at home on her sectional couch. Her living room seemed way too expensive for a teachers budget, hundred thousand dollar couch, a tv that had to cost at least another one hundred and mahogany furniture. I couldn’t help but notice a portrait she had on the wall. A done to detail painting of her and dude who seemed like a billionaire.

Francene: Bouyd, can you come to the bathroom, please? I need the towel but I can’t step out wet on the floor.

It seemed like a noble request, it’s just a towel. What could possibly go wrong? I walked into the bathroom only to see the towel hanging from the shower curtain bar. “It’s on the curtain bar,” I said. Expecting her to pull it down and wrap herself up. She slid the curtain across, standing there but naked, all soaped up. My dick became steel hard and my brain stopped functioning. She was way more than I had ever masturbated to. My imagination had done her no justice. “Be a good boy and come bathe with me please?” she said. I took my shirt off without even pulling a button, my shoes without untying and my pants without unbuckling my belt. I slid out my clothes with my dick so hard it was jumping. I floated to the shower. I grabbed her by the neck and braced her against the wall. “Don’t start what you can’t manage?” she said. I braced my hard dick against her pussy. Slowly rubbing it between her clit. She turned the shower on. It was warm and tingly. Making me even hornier than I was before. I grabbed her nipples and sucked on them like a newborn. She shivered from the feeling. Hot cum ran down my fingers. I raised one leg and slid my hard dick in. I sucked on her lips as if I wanted to suck them off her face while I stroked her hard and deep. Within a minute if not less, she came. Meowing like a cat, squirting like a broken pipe. I grabbed her by both legs and held her high on the wall. Giving me clear access to her dripping pussy. We kissed and fucked and kissed and fucked some more. We left from the shower to the face basin, the living room, the bed, then the floor. I fucked her until we were both cramped. She took every last drop of my kids deep inside her. I fell asleep shortly after as I was near as fuck. I never woke till the next morning. I was shocked as fuck, I didn’t even bring extra clothes to go to school. Luckily, she was smart enough to machine wash them from overnight. We both showed up late that morning as I had to fuck her again to believe we actually fucked.

I went to school that morning smiling like a mad man. I didn’t even bathe that morning because I wanted the fuck scent to remind me of her bomb ass pussy. I had dethroned the queen and finally fucked a teacher. Two birds with one stone. I was so eager to fuck her I didn’t remember I drove to work until I saw my car the next day. I had made plans with apple to take her out but I didn’t remember shit. I rushed to her class with an apology only to get dumped. Which I did deserve but got damn, I apologized. She could have at least given me another day to make up for it. A few days passed and I wanted to be deep inside her again. I couldn’t help but think about. I needed her to feel alive. I pulled up to her house uninvited and unannounced, hoping she’d let me in. She came out in nothing but her robe on. She adjusted my seat and hopped on top without an early warning. She dragged my pants down and made herself at home on my dick. Again I fell asleep. We were both knocked the fuck out in the car. Lucky enough it was Sunday. She made us breakfast then packed a bag and got dressed for the beach. She reclined the passenger seat and placed her legs on the dashboard. We stopped and fucked twice on the way as we were both dying for each other. I felt like I couldn’t get enough and she just didn’t know how to say no. We were like this for months. Fucking like wildlings, not giving one fuck about anything else. We went as far as fucking in the teacher’s bathroom. I admit, some days were hornier than others and it was just too much to bear. I went to see her on my lunch break and we started kissing. I fingered her for a while but we both wanted my dick in her belly. I told her we could go to my place and fuck but she preferred to be daring as always. She dragged me behind her to the bathroom where she stripped butt naked. She slid my throat down her throat then sat on the toilet top. I fucked her until sweat ran down my back. Cumin all over her sexy body. She missed her period that month, I guess she intentionally didn’t take her pills. I was so excited about it I changed her name to “Le Bebé Mama”.

She was pregnant, for four months, of that I was sure. But something happened and she had a miscarriage 😔. My dreams crumbled, my heart sunk in my chest and her love for me somehow died. I guess she couldn’t bear to see me and not be carrying my child. It fucked me so I can only imagine what it did to her. I tried to mend us but she kept crying when we were together which only pushed us further apart. Before long we didn’t even communicate, and by the time I had realized she had already moved on.. she even had the audacity to message me to stop calling her name. I hadn’t even mentioned fucking her to myself. I was too afraid of what could happen if I did so I just kept my mouth shut. I didn’t reply to that message or any she sent after because I took it as an insult. I was minding my own business one day when this dude walked up to me with her keys. He bragged about how he fucked her and she said I was a wimp. Deep down I wanted to knock him out, but somehow my conscious side stopped me from doing so. That was it for me, obviously, she had moved on and wanted me to know. Why wait for someone who’s never coming back? I moved on with my happy life and acted as if she didn’t exist until she texts me one day. “Meet me in the teacher’s bathroom, I need to talk to you” mmmmmmm. I wondered what the fuck she could possibly want to talk about in the bathroom. “Fuck da gyal yah a look eno, she think she smart.” I waited for about fifteen minutes before making a move, thinking of every possible outcome. She was butt naked when I got there. Looking at me from head to. “Fuck me, hard and long,” she said. “A wa she tek this ting fah, she think she can diss me den strip naked an it good, she mek a sad mistake”. I stood there hard as steel steering at her amazing body. I turned around acting like I wanted to leave, just for show to see her reaction. She jumped me with a knife, threatening to kill me if I leave. “A bet mi buss yuh blood cloth throat if you ramp wid mi,” she said. Like a bitch, I lapped my tail between my legs and did exactly as she asked. I held the hand with the knife and started on her breast, up to her neck, then long lingering kisses on her lips. She released my belt and took my shaft out. Slowly rubbing it against her soaked pussy. Teasing herself to an orgasm. She pushed me on the toilet and slid her way down my dick. With her hands on my shoulder, she leaned back and gave my dick a lap dance. Cum ran down my nuts. She screamed and moaned and broke down in tears. Talking all kind of shit. “Breed mi, breed mi, breed mi to bloodcloth”. She hugged me tight and worked her way to a tummy full of kids. Fresh semen swimming around.

Again, she broke down in tears. “One piece a cow bawling”. She held the knife to her knock and threatened to kill herself if I didn’t take her back. 🤦‍♂️ like what the fuck is she playing at? Is she crazy? I sat there on the toilet, mute as I was confused. She could have simply asked me to take her back. That would have been easier. Not all this crazy drama shit. I wanted to say no but I was afraid she’d kill me and kill herself. As much as I wanted to be on tv, I didn’t want to be dead in a bathroom. I agreed to be her man after all. It’s not like I had a choice. We fucked for months like nothing happened, trying to fix our whatever that was. Or maybe I was just fucking to stay alive. Sometime mi feel seh mi attrak some bad duppy eno. I was out with Apple one day when her car drove up, and the same dude who was bragging about her months ago jumped out. I’m the kind who premeditates and calculates every possible outcome of every situation. From the way he jumped out and at the speed he was walking towards me I knew some shit was about to go down. He attacked me, accusing me of fucking his girl. He claimed he saw cum on the front seat and messages in her phone about last night. Like who the duck he think he is? Although I did cum on the front seat of “her” car. She said she wasn’t seeing anybody but me, she said they broke up. So why the fuck this dude fight me? Or was she lying? Either way, I didn’t intend on getting my ass kicked. We wrestled and hurled punches at each other till I pushed through a store window. Now Apple and I were just getting back together, trying to fix our relationship and this happens 🤦‍♂️. I think I’m cursed. Funny enough the cops let him go and took me in for questioning. I had just completed one year of my anger management class and this piece of shit made me get another six months. Apple left me, again, and Francene took his side. As bad as I felt, I was happy she left. Francene that is.

I’ve learned from that mistake, and I don’t intend on making it again. Never stay with a psycho chick. If she’s willing to kill herself for you, she’ll kill you just the same. A woman will love you to death and still ditch you and act as they’ve never seen you in their life. Women think they can do anything and make it up to you with some real, good sex. But sometimes we need more than that. I just can’t see past you letting another man fuck you, suck his dick, then turn around and say you made a mistake. How did that happen? He slipped between your legs while you were wet without you noticing? Did his dick magically appeared down your throat? Too grown for that bullshit honey. But on the other hand, we men are just the same. Some of us deserve that shit. But there are good men out there like “Me” who wants to be the best man, who wants to treat “women” like queens. But y’all make it so hard. Y’all can never be pleased. So when good men find good women, we go treat you like the typical, because we ain’t know who’s what and who’s not. Sigh.

Forever searching.

[thatlesbiannudistcult-stories]

Finding Goddess (Chapter 14)

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT!

Carol was dead. There was no getting around it. There would be no talking her way out of this one. She would get reported. She would lose her job. She would go to jail. She would get registered as a sex offender, no one would ever hire her again, her daughters would be taken away, and they would never want to see her. And all because of...because of...because of that damn lesbian nudist cult messing with her mind!

Should never have listened to Henrietta, should never have gone to that Temple, should never have fallen for that sexy bitch, Celeste, should have just stayed home, and clothed, and...

"HELLOOOOOO?" said the irritated (and irritating) Elaine. "Are you going all narcoleptic on me?"

"Huh? Wha?" stammered Carol as she shook herself out of her head. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Ugh, seriously?" growled Elaine like she had just been asked the most obvious thing in the world. "I mean you, like, just stopped talking and started staring into space like a space case."

Carol could only look at the younger woman in utter bewilderment. Are you kidding me? I'm sitting here completely naked, and she's yelling at me for blanking out? Don't tell me she doesn't actually notice...

"You're doing it again!" shouted Elaine, who couldn't help but turn her head away with a sneer of disgust. "Ugh, just my luck, here they are, a multimillion dollar company, and the only thing they can afford to give me is a senile old lady."

"S-senile?" said Carol, partially in confusion and partially in indignation. She was getting half a mind to bend this overgrown brat over her knee and smack her bottom good for that remark. That urge was only stopped by the other half of her mind wanting to ask aloud why Elaine didn't seem to care that Carol didn't have any clothes on.

Maybe she's known some old people who became so forgetful, they forgot to dress themselves? Has that ever been a thing? And if it is...IS SHE COMPARING ME TO THEM?

The urge to smack Elaine grew stronger in Carol's mind.

"Are you going to tell me why you're not publishing my book yet or not?" whined the blonde as she practically stomped her butt on the chair opposite Carol. "I don't have all day to deal with your old woman problems."

"Uh...right. Right," Carol growled, clenching her teeth, her fists, and her buttocks tight to keep herself from standing up and walloping the girl. But she still couldn't help but be baffled. Did Elaine really not care about her nudity? Was she just that self-absorbed that she...

Looking at the impatient little priss on the other side of the desk, Carol finally put two and two together; she was sitting in front of a pretty big monitor. So big that all she could see of her company's client from her current position was her head and neck. Is that it? Could the monitor be blocking my nudity?

"So what's the deal?" Elaine said with a petulant huff. "Why aren't you publishing my book? I bet you didn't give Dad half the trouble you're giving me."

Yes, that had to be it. The monitor was definitely blocking Carol's nudity from sight. She was sitting just a couple feet away from a girl half her age naked as the day she was born, and said girl didn't suspect a thing! Carol would have laughed if she wasn't trembling so much out of fearful irritation and irritated fear.

Still, it meant she wasn't nearly as dead as she thought she was. She was close, teetering on the edge, ready to slip and fall any minute...but she was still standing. There was still a chance to get through this. A slim chance, but a chance nonetheless.

"I can't...I can't say precisely how much so-called 'trouble' Mr. Cassidy was given when he first, when he first approached Trilo...Trilo Publishing," said Carol through gritted teeth. "I wasn't...I wasn't working here at the time. But I assure...I assure you, every author has to go through our rigorous editing process in order to...in order to ensure our high standards of, high standards of...quality."

Damn it, now Carol wanted to smack herself. She was trying to stay cool, trying to maintain a professional front, but speaking in the right tone, at the right pace, at the right volume, without stuttering in her current state was...impossible. She was naked. Bare ass naked and the world was doing its absolute damnedest to remind her of that fact every waking second. Cool air was caressing every inch of her naked skin, the fabric of her discarded clothing was digging into the bare soles of her feet, and her butt cheeks were flattening into the plush faux leather of her chair. And if she made one wrong move, fidgeted an inch too high, revealed one bare shoulder, it was over!

"But I've done plenty of editing!" said Elaine. "I removed lots of pages from the book just like you told me to."

Carol took a deep breath as she gathered her thoughts, tried to keep her mind on her job and not on her nudity. It didn't help; she could feel a very slight but still very telltale jiggle in her breasts as her chest inflated. "You didn't...you didn't remove enough," she said. "There is still...there is still a lot of...unnecessary content in your manuscript that adds nothing to the story and only pads out its...pads out its length. And there are lots of sections...lots of sections...that I specifically told you to get rid of, but which are still present in the text!"

She resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably in her chair, leaving herself to stew just as uncomfortably in her upright position. Damn it, this was hell, but she had to keep it up. She had to remain stern, no matter how naked she felt, literally and figuratively.

"But everything in my book is important!" said Elaine. "I wouldn't have written them in if they weren't!"

Air seeped out between Carol's teeth in a low hiss. She really wanted to sit up straight just to adopt a more commanding stance, as well as give her butt a little breathing room on the faux leather. But she couldn't. "How is...how listing every little grocery the protagonist is putting away on page 34 important for the story?" she seethed. "How is describing every little pen stroke she makes in her diary on page 86 important for the story? How is the ten-page, ten-page conversation she has with the hippo on daffodils important? And if all the events of chapters 12 to 18 are a dream, why did we...why did we need to have them in the first place? And the part with the camels in the clown car...what, what WAS that about? I still don't know, and I read that section 50 Goddess-damned...50 God-damned times!”

"You obviously haven't been reading it very thoroughly then," huffed Elaine. "The heroine, Ellen Cassandra, is bored with the humdrum of her life..."

Oh Goddess, here we go again with another one of her ARTISTE speeches. Carol kept her hands planted firmly on her desk to keep herself from face-palming.

"Every item of nourishment she picks up and puts away," Elaine continued, "represents another boring drone in her life. The milk is the time in her limited lifespan being squeezed out of her like from the teats of a cow by the demands of her job, her classes, her parents, and her obligations. The juice is the phony face she is forced to wear for the benefit of the world that can't handle her beautiful and unique identity! The bananas represent her entrapment in a male-dominated world..."

"You don't put bananas in the fridge," Carol groaned. Goddess, it was unbearable sitting nakedly in this seat listening to this drivel. She needed to move, stand up, stretch her legs out, slap Elaine, masturbate. But she couldn't do any of those things in her current state.

But...she couldn't sit still either.

To hell with it, she silently grumbled, finally taking a moment to lift one of her legs up. She winced as she felt her skin peel off the leather-like material in her chair like a stubborn band-aid, and after making sure her chatty tormenter hadn't noticed anything amiss, she crossed it over her other leg. It seemed to do the trick; changing her position did help alleviate her stiffness somewhat. It also gave her some level of modesty, or at least, she hoped it did. This was how women typically sat to keep peeping toms from seeing their unmentionables after all.

"In this, I let the reader experience the boredom Ellen feels, and instill in them the same thrill of adventure that she seeks!" said Elaine, who sounded like she was winding down on her spiel. "It is my way of instilling a sense of empathy between the reader and the heroine in a way no author has ever done before! Now look me in the eye and tell me that isn't genius?"

"You're not...you're not going to make anyone empathize with your protagonist with this," Carol almost said 'shit' but caught herself before her teeth so much as clamped together. "You're just going to bore them and make them put the book down. Have you even read this thing yourself?"

"I don't need to," said Elaine. "I wrote it! That means I understand it more intimately than everybody else!"

Carol could feel her every muscle clench with repressed rage, including those in her hands, her arms, her back, and even her buttocks. It was a sensation a woman could only feel in her natural state. "No, it just means...ohhhhh!"

Crap, she slid her legs too sensually against one another. Her thighs got tickled, and a faint tingle slithered up from her crotch to her spine. She just...she just turned herself on. Damn her getting aroused by her own nakedness!

"M-moving on," gasped Carol as she reached for her coffee, only to flinch in slight pain when her fingers wrapped around the mug. Even after all this time, it was still too hot to drink. "You...you do a really bad job at making the protagonist's l-love and at-attraction to the male lead feel ge-genuine...ahhhhh!"

Another tingle. Another full-bodied shiver. Shit, crossing her legs was a terrible idea. She forgot how sensitive her thighs could get, and with her clit starting to peer out from its hood, she was practically masturbating doing this!

"What do you mean?" said Elaine, who didn't appear the least bit affected by Carol's outburst. "I described allllllll the ways she loved him! All the physical parts, all the parts of his mind! I said everything a girl would ever possibly think to love a guy. Every little word and syllable. I spent, like, three whole days writing them down! So don't think for a moment that I rushed that part because I didn't!"

"That's...exactly the problem," said Carol between her breaths as she fought against her own body to stay in control. "You...over-thought it. Girls...in love...don't think. Love isn't...love isn't...a lot of excessive thoughts or...words. It's...it's...ugghhh!"

She finally found the wherewithal to uncross her legs, sliding one thigh off the other quick and abruptly, like how she learned to take off a bandage, hoping it would be swift and painless. It wasn't. It sent another jolt up her body, tickling her clit so hotly it nearly caused her to jump in the air. Had Carol not taken a firm hold of her desk, she likely would have jumped and shown her client her great, heaving bosoms with their hard and erect nipples standing at attention.

Stay calm, Carol. Stay calm, stay calm, for the love of the Goddess, stay calm!

"It's what?" growled Elaine impatiently.

Carol's loins were still tingling, her inner muscles were still clenching, demanding to be stroked, petted, licked, sucked, stimulated in any way. The urge to drive her fingers into her moistening sex was growing stronger, but Carol held firm, tightening the already vice-like grip she was maintaining on her desk.

"It...love is...it's feeling. Sssssensation," Carol breathed. "Desire. Reluctance. Warmth. Heat. F-feeeeeaaaarrrrrr. It's not...it's not something you just...make a whole bunch of metaphors for...not in...not in my...experience. Uh...huuuhhhhh..."

It was getting harder to concentrate. She was tingling hot down there, her hips seemed to have gained a will of their own as they thrust themselves back and forth in her chair, and her pussy was dripping like a leaky faucet all over the faux leather. And despite all her attempts to keep her mind on the job, she couldn't stop herself from thinking sexy thoughts. Like being naked in public. Having sex with her best friend, Henrietta. Giving Katy more of that 'motherly affection' she enjoyed so much. Letting Celeste ravish her in the grotto.

Seeing Zenriah with her own eyes and making love to the Goddess Herself.

"Mmmmmmm!" she murmured, digging her nails that much deeper into her desk, leaving deep welts in the polished mahogany surface.

"Uh...are you okay?" said Elaine, who for the first time was starting to look visibly worried. It lasted for only a few seconds. "Damn it, are you even listening to me?" she barked, pounding a frustrated fist on the desk. Everything on it rattled, the monitor, the keyboard, the mouse, and the still too hot cup of coffee.

"Y-yes!" gasped Carol as the sudden tremor shook her awake. "I'm fine. I'm perfectly...perfectly...fine!"

"I should hope so," said Elaine. "Because it doesn't look like you're all there. Ugh, I can barely understand a thing you're saying."

The younger girl slumped back in her seat with that same air of melodramatic annoyance she always projected. "I'm never going to get published at this rate. How can I write what you want me to if I can't even understand what you're saying?"

Even in her uncomfortable horniness, Carol couldn't help but blink. Did her ears deceive her? Did Elaine actually say she wanted some real feedback in her own bratty, backhanded way? Carol didn't want to get too excited, but in her current state, she'd take any kind of relief she could get.

"Well, it's...hard to explain...what it's like to be in love," she said, deciding to at least act like she was understanding. Maybe if she acted kindly to Elaine, rather than critical, her words would get through to her. She could only hope. "I can't say that it's the same for...everyone. And maybe I'm being too harsh when I say that everything in your manuscript on the subject of love and attraction is wrong. I don't think it's...I don't think it's that unusual to maybe think a few offbeat things that don't make a whole lick of sense when you're love-struck."

She paused to catch her breath, and readjust her position in her chair as minutely as she could to not betray her nudity to her client. She also waited a moment for Elaine to give her a response, but when all she got was an inquisitive eyebrow from the blonde, Carol decided that was her cue to continue.

"But...the thing is...you go...overboard with it. With all the...overwrought and poem-like descriptions. It's all a bit...excessive. And boring. You say that you write everything a girl in love would possibly think, but that's just it...no girl is ever going to think all those ridiculous things. There just isn't...time for that. And then there's the sentence structure, the repetition, the grammar mistakes, the..."

"But...but they all just seem so important!" whined the younger girl. "And...and I have no choice but to use them all because..." She trailed off.

"Because?" Carol asked, bracing herself. It looked like her strategy was working. Elaine was being unprofessional as always, but instead of voicing her thoughts out loud with that usual haughty tone of indignation, she was instead talking as if she had doubt. Not in others, but herself. Okay, that was just a nice way to say she was whining, but still, progress was progress.

"Because...because they're the best I can think of! I can't imagine any other way to describe Ellen's feelings!" cried Elaine, and she pounded the desk again with another frustrated punch. "Damn it!"

Carol was about to tell the girl (loudly) to stop banging on her desk, when she felt something very wet and something very hot splash all over her stomach, her thighs, and into the very sensitive area in her groin. It took her only a second to realize why; that last vibration tipped her mug off the edge of her desk and caused her coffee to spill all over her! With a startled cry, the naked woman bolted up to her feet in a vain attempt to escape the deluge that already claimed her. Her chair rolled backwards, her toes dug into the fabrics of her discarded clothes on the floor, her breasts bounced tantalizingly in the air, and...

Carol stared at Elaine. Elaine stared back at her. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was agape as she took in the sight before her. At Carol's pale skin. At the brown liquid dripping off of it. At the dark patch of hair between her legs. At her large boobs. At her fully erect nipples. At her every...little...inch...of completely...naked...nakedness!

Carol could only stand where she stood, as still as a statue. She couldn't say anything to explain herself. She couldn't drop down to the floor to hide herself. She couldn't even cry out from the sizzling, burning pain she was supposed to be feeling from the hot coffee dribbling off her flesh. A part of her couldn't help but be stunned by the fact that she honestly couldn't feel any pain actually. But the other part of Carol was quick to remind her of something far more important than the pain she was not feeling.

I'm dead. For real this time.

Wordlessly, Elaine stood up, rounded the desk, and approached Carol. Her expression was uncharacteristically mute, her mood completely unreadable. She stopped barely a foot away from the older woman and just stared at her. She looked Carol up. She looked Carol down. She took in every detail of the older woman's anatomy. Carol dared not meet her gaze, averting her eyes every time they passed over own. Nor did she dare to move. Like frightened prey caught in the shadow of a hungry predator, she stood still as death, the only movement on her coming from the drops of hot coffee dribbling down her skin.

She finally twitched when Elaine's hands, without warning, took hold of her waist. Now, they were slow and gentle, but to Carol's hypersensitive mind, they might as well have horse-whipped her. Elaine ran them down her form, tracing the naked woman's widening hips and firm buttocks. Carol bit her lip to keep herself from moaning as her cheeks were lightly tickled, though she couldn't suppress the quiver she felt shaking throughout her delectable orbs. It shamed her to admit it, but Elaine had some pretty graceful fingers.

Seemingly satisfied with her butt, Elaine slid her hands upward, gliding her fingers silkily over the bare flesh on Carol's sides before stopping right above her breasts. They jiggled slightly as the nude woman abruptly caught her breath in her throat, partially out of fear and anticipation over what would happen next, and partially out of arousal. She was still so horny from sitting in the nude in her own workplace for so long, and getting touched by this young, bratty, irritating, immature hotty with the brilliant golden locks and baby blue eyes and the C-cup boobs hidden neatly under her business jacket was just...

"Hah!" Carol cried out again when Elaine suddenly grabbed hold of her breasts. She kneaded the great spheres of flesh in her hands, squished and squeezed them between her fingers like putty, pressed them together, pulled them apart, watched how they rose and fell in her grasp, traced circles around the rosy red areolas that surrounded the hardened nubs.

What is she, AH, doing to me? thought Carol as she let out another pleasurable cry. She's, AH, touching me. Feeling me up. OH! Massaging, groping, fondling me. AH! Oh Goddess, it feels so...

"That's it!" Elaine shouted with sudden excitement. "This is the kind of sensation a woman in love feels! I think...I think I can now find the words to properly describe my protagonist's feelings! Looks like you were of some use after all, old lady!"

Old...lady? Carol was hornier than ever now and fighting every urge to cram her hands into her pussy, but even in that haze, she still felt a tinge of annoyance at her client. I'll show you, uhhhh...what this old lady can—

She didn't have enough time to finish that thought. For Elaine suddenly seized her head and planted a big, grateful kiss on her lips! "I'll get started right away," she proclaimed as she hurried out the door. "My book will be ready for publishing the next time you see me! I guarantee it!" And just like that, she was out the door.

For a moment, Carol could only stare blankly ahead of her. What the hell just happened? She exposed herself to Elaine, let herself get felt up, and Elaine was...happy about that? That didn't...how did...why was...

"I don't understand anything at all!" she wailed, throwing her hands up in the air before letting gravity take hold. Her chair bounced fitfully as her body collapsed into it, giving her breasts another healthy bounce before settling into serene stillness. Nothing was making sense anymore! When had she taken off her clothes? Why did she? What had Elaine found so fascinating about her naked body? Why did—she looked down at her thighs, which were still damp from the coffee spill and getting sticky as it dried up—WHY DIDN'T THE COFFEE HURT HER? It had cooled off, yes, but it was still blistering when it hit her. She knew it had been, she felt the heat, but it...it didn't bother her. Not one bit. Hell, it didn't look like it burned any inch of her skin at all!

"Something's...happening to me," she whispered feeling her heart pound against her chest. "Something...uhhhhh...ohhhhhh...ahhhh...AHHHHH!"

Her thoughts were interrupted by the tingling in her loins that was coming back in full force. In the growing wetness, heat, and throbbing in her inner being that was demanding her attention, that she could no longer ignore and no longer had any reason to.

"Goddess," she uttered as her right hand slithered over her sex and upon her swollen clit. "Oh G-hooooooddeeeessssssssss!"

She rubbed her little bud of love, ran it in circles in the palm of her hand, let a familiar and very distinctive wet, schlicking sound ring out of her. "I'm cumming! Goddess, I'm cumming now! I'm cumming! I'M CUMMING!"

Carol would cum many more times before she finally saw fit to leave the Writer's Room.

#finding goddess #carol

[loremonster]

My First Days In Guam

Pagebreak because TMI about periods and such.

Moving to a new place is pretty much always hard. This time, made harder by language barriers, culture barriers, and the fact that my vagina is bleeding like an arterial wound. The jetlag is pretty hardcore, but I’m beginning to come around to sleeping when it’s dark at least. The heat and humidity is vicious, though I am sure I’ll adjust to that, too. I have trouble picking what exactly I wanna vent about first, so let’s just take it from the top.

Arrival went as smoothly as could be expected; after 2 full days of flights, connections, passport checks, and a grand total of 22 hours in the air with small children screaming, in-flight wi-fi not working, and a toddler kicking my seat the whole way from Seattle to Japan, we completed a journey that started in Minneapolis on the 3rd of December, 8 PM and ended in Guam, the 5th of December, 10 Pm. I will notate here that we crossed the international dateline, and a total of 19 hours in time zone differences. Sleeping on the plane was nearly impossible for me, as certain issues at home had not been resolved; most prominent of which was the fact that our property manager had dropped the ball with our home back in Washington state, and our tenants who were supposed to be keeping that house’s mortgage paid had not yet been able to even SIGN the lease agreement because of multiple mis-communications and goof ups... and NO ONE at the office was returning calls. 

Now a world away with no international phone plan, I was not capable of brow beating the property manager into doing something, and worry kept me awake the majority of the travel time. What sleep I did grab was simply my body and brain succumbing to exhaustion for about 20 minutes at a time before I’d jerk awake, cursing the fact that I wanted to just sleep through the whole damn thing and missing my legal marijuana something hardcore. 

We had a friend awaiting us at arrival, but hopes for a hotel had fallen through. We spent our first hour on the island driving about aimlessly, searching for anyone who would have a room for a night. Our host was good-humored, and helped us get our bags up once we found a room. We were told that if we told the front desk by noon the next day that we wanted to stay longer, we could.

I showered, marveled at my thoroughly swollen ankles, and laid the fuck down to sleep at 1 AM, local time.

I awoke 4 AM, local time, unable to go back to sleep and accepting that after about half an hour of trying to pass out. I decided now was a good time to shave, put on the cute clothes I had bought in the states particularly for the hot weather here, and perchance go for a short walk before the sun came up to get my bearings and buy some sunscreen.

30 minutes later I returned to the hotel a shaken and angry young lady-- I had been whistled at while walking, and a man had pulled over his car to ask if I was okay, twice. My excitement at being in a place where it was socially acceptable for me to wear a skirt and a crop top because it’s always goddamn hot out had turned into a terrible sense of vulnerability. Even if the whistler had simply been a run-of-the-mill asshole, and the man in the car had been a good Samaritan making sure I wasn’t a runaway or a battered girlfriend in need of help, it didn’t change the fact that a moment of confidence for me had been turned into a moment of horror, fear, and anger that I didn’t feel safe on my own. My eagerness to embrace my new home had turned into reactionary terror, and I dove back to my hotel room and my husband simply for the familiar comfort. 

Oh, right, and hubby didn’t get house hunting leave right away, so he had to go to work. I felt terrified to be alone, and was informed I’d be spending our first days quite perfectly by myself.

Then I was informed that the hotel couldn’t keep us, despite us notifying them before noon that yes, we did want to keep the room. They were already booked up. Our room was promised to someone else. Now my hubby had to go and get familiar with his new command, and it was in MY hands to find us a new place to stay before I had to pack out the room and leave the free wifi that enabled me to get things done... and then, at noon, I would be on my own and would just have to kill time until both hubby and his ride were off of work and able to come get me. 

Finding a room was not as hard as I imagined, thankfully. I managed to find a decent booking for what was last night up until our next payday, the 15th, so we’ve got a room for a hot second here. After that, I decided to swallow the fear, pack out the room, leave our baggage with the front desk [they promised they’d look after it until we could pick it up to take to our next hotel], and walk down to the near-by K-mart; the biggest shopping center within a mile and, to me, the best way to kill time until I had a right elsewhere. 

82 degrees in nearly 100% humidity is something that makes short walks seem long. As someone who is an avid player of Pokemon Go, who tends to hatch a 10k egg at least once a day, I did not think a 1.2 KM walk was going to be any sort of difficult, even in the heat. I had water, i had obtained sunscreen, I figured it couldn’t be too bad, but the heat is just so heavy here. It lays on your limbs, the humidity soaks into your clothes and makes them leaden, and my poor sleep deprived body wasn’t exactly the most cooperative vehicle in the world. That said, I did make it. 

Arrival at K-mart had a specific task in mind. I had forgotten to pack one of my swimsuits when originally gathering the things I wanted with me before the move, and now I found myself on a tropical island without swimwear. Sacrilege, of course, so I needed to find something. And, here is where I get into the most minor of all my gripes, but I am beyond upset that there was not wider selection. You see, I will not describe myself as fat. Have I picked up a little pudge in recent months with all the stress eating before the move? Yes. Am I bloated from my period? Hardcore. Are my breasts engorged because of my period as well? Oh you fucking bet. But the point is that I am 5′4″ and weigh in at 150 at my heaviest, and that is by no means an unhealthy weight when you take into account the fact that I am a 32 DDD. A D-cup pair of breasts weigh about 20 pounds on their own, so I’m guessing my pair weigh about 25-ish. Why do I bring this up?

Because a tropical island that sees body types from America to Japan, anywhere from 90 pounds to 300, as well as the more muscular and stout builds I’ve been noticing of the native people, 90% of the swimsuit section was STILL made exclusively for size 0 women. According to the sizes at that sort, I am apparently an XL in the chest and a L in the ass. Oh, right, all bikinis. The one-pieces were all either black or one of those terrible eye-sore patterns, and all only for the people pushing 300 pounds. I WANTED a one-piece originally because, well, I have a pudge. I wanted to swim until I lost some of it before I went into full blown bikini time. Yeah, I’m human, I have feelings about my body. I don’t LIKE being self-conscious, but I am. But here I was, looking through one-piece suits and they’re all labeled either with numbers I don’t understand and clearly made for someone MUCH larger than myself [who I am certain doesn’t want to wear black or eye-melting pink with palm leaves either] or XXXL. 

Once I accepted that I was getting a bikini that day, my eyes were, of course, drawn to something brightly colored-- neon green with black lace, to be exact, but I knew there was no way in hell I’d fit in it. Skipping my ass, these are things my bone structure was simply too wide for. After that, I found another that looked close enough to try on; some army green color with silver accents that I liked. Off to the fitting room! ... for the bottoms to pop several stitches as I pull it on, and for the top to look obscene in the way that it offered my breasts zero support. Technically I could have worn it, I was covered by the strictest sense of the term... but I wouldn’t have felt good wearing it, and I don’t wear anything I don’t feel good in. Personal policy. 

Finally, of course, were the black and eye-melting bikinis. The ones they DO make for women with bodies like mine, with the wide hips and the knockers out of a playboy spread, only these bitches are natural. 

I own a grand total of 5 black swimsuits now, all simply because the brightly colored ones are not made for me. I really hate that. I love the design of the swimsuit I bought, I just wish I could have had it in a fun color. Purple, or green! Blue, or even bright orange! Something other than black. Black is the slimming color, the color that’s supposed to make you look smaller than you are. I’m not small. I’m okay with not being small. I like my breasts, I love my hips. I may not be in love with my pudge but I accept it as part of me right now, and later on after I get back into good food an walking every day that pudge is gonna fade, but the rest of my body type will not. I will never be small enough to fit into anything that is made with any sort of artistic eye, because the people making swimsuits don’t want to dress me. They wanna dress ‘bikini babes’ who have B to C-sized breasts that need minimal support because they’re still very young and perky, and slender bodies with thigh gaps... and I have no issue with gals who are that thin. All bodies are good bodies if you like living in them! I like my body, I like living in my body! I hate that no one who makes clothes seems to like me living in my body. THAT is my fucking problem with that.

And now that I’ve devoted several paragraphs to sheer petty mooing, let’s move on with the rest of the day... namely that I was stuck at that K mart for the next 6 hours because the guy giving us rides forgot that he had a dental appointment that day, and my property manager STILL had failed to get in contact with my tenants. They’d left messages, but no one had gotten back to them. 

To put this in mild perspective, we engaged the property manager back in November, at which point in time they stopped talking to us after we signed the contact between them, the property manager, and us, the owners of the property. Now my tenants needed to sign a lease before making their first payments, payments that cover my mortgage, my mortgage, which had already been automatically paid this month. That’s 1200+ dollars that I could really use in the process of moving for food and such, money NOT in my account because my property managers could be bothered to fucking talk to my people or return a phone call. Displeased was the fucking word. My tenants are literally waiting to pay me their rent, my property manager doesn’t get their cut until they do, and they just completely dropped the ball. 

And I’m doing laps around a K Mart, unable to make phone calls but watching my FB chat blow up about all this, edging up on exhaustion as my stupid circadian rhythm realizes it’s 11 PM back in Minnesota, so obviously I should be sleeping. 

I spend the last hour at K Mart at the Little Caesars pizza housed within, eating too-greasy junk food and finally dozing off on a table until my ride showed up, with 7% battery left when I was finally told SOMEONE was on their way. 

I now sit in the hotel room I booked, which is markedly shitter than advertised. There’s tiles broken apart in the bathroom, someone made the bed weird and put the extra blanket UNDER the fitted sheet. We have a fridge, but the ice tray in it is cracked to shit and leaks in most compartments. There is no ice machine in this building; I have to go down a giant fuck-off hill to fill a tiny ice bucket if I want ice from their machine, which I’m sure helps them save on that cost. 

Good news is that I fell asleep at 7 PM last night, and awoke at 3 AM. Despite this sounding outrageous, that does mean I got a full 8 hours of sleep, which is an improvement. Of course, I got up to use the restroom and found my underwear looking like someone tried to fuck me with a knife, so that was less happy... but hopefully that specific bodily event will be over soon if I’m bleeding that thoroughly. The last two flavors of instant ramen I’ve tried were too spicy for me to eat [it’s all in Japanese so I’m guessing based on the pictures on the boxes], but there’s a USO a block down the street that offers free meals to military members, so I might take a short walk down there today... and I won’t be getting booted out of this room.

Also, I told my property management company they were fired this morning, which got them to clean their act up right quick. My tenants have a lease, and I’ve heard no further complaints on that side thus far. 

And that, dear friends, has been my first two days in Guam. 

Granted, this one still has quite a few hours in it. Local time is only 9:48, but I already feel like it’s 3 in the afternoon... Damn jetlag. 

I want to love this place. It’s my new home. It just doesn’t feel like it yet. 

-Buttlord. 

#journal #personal #TMI #don't give a fuck

[confessionsofagaywhore]

Finally got fucked <3

I turned 18 a week ago and the day after I went on craigslist. While I usually just fantasize through the pictures of nearby older men looking for boys like me, I was super horny and went for it. I wore a short tshirt and short shorts to make him want me starting the second he saw me. So this 30y.o. hunk of a man picked me up at the mall and drove us into the parking structure. I saw his bulge growing and grabbed it. He asked if I would "sit my juicy ass on his lap," so I awkwardly stepped over the middle section and I didn't know I put my ass right in his face. He pulled my ass onto his face and stopped the car before he even parked  (no one was there but still hot). After he spent a few minutes ravaging my ass to his best ability through my shorts I felt the air on my ass cheeks as he pulled into a parking spot. He had pulled the shorts up through my crack to expose me. Then I got the pre-virginity-loss anxiety. I thought about how it could go wrong, etc. I was all nervous all of a sudden because I thought he wouldn't like how little leg hair I had or my boyish skin. I have a weird hormone issue where I shoulda gotten hormone injections years ago, but my parents didn't agree with it. So I'm still developing all slow. Anyways, as it turns out I was wrong since he pulled those shorts over my ass and spent a solid half hour just licking every inch of it. Then he pulled his cock out. I looked over my back to see the first penis I ever made grow. It was like 7.5 in cut and literally throbbing. I could feel my saliva soaked hole like vibrating almost I was so horny. I thought I had all my fantasy's filled: a masculine older man overcome with lust for me with a fat cock and the perfect attitude. Then I discovered another kinda embarrassing turn-on for me. "Do you want daddy's cock in that ass?" I felt such an intense wave of lust come over me that I couldn't even talk so I just just pushed my ass onto his crotch. His cock was snuggling between my ass cheeks as I grinded into him. Finally I regained speech and looked back at him "Does daddy want this ass?" I felt the girth of his dick rubbing inside my bubble butt cheeks and up against my hole. When he pushed me up to grab the lube, I realized how small and innocent I was compared to this pure alpha male. He was thick (not fat but like broad) and tall, maybe like 6' even, 200 lbs, aged and hairy all over. I'm like 5'5, average to skinny body, barely have any body hair besides a few pubes and eye brows. After he squeezed the lube in between my butt cheeks, he sank his cock back into the accommodating gap between them. Within minutes I was twerking on it and even let out a few moans that were way to high to be coming from an 18 year old boy's mouth. He pulled my shirt off and this continued for a while. Eventually I started putting the pressure on my hole. He took the hint and point it towards the opening of my now begging "boy pussy" as he called it. The minute I felt the warm tip slide in, I sat up on my feet and began the cherry-breaking. I got a slutty case of the hiccups as I began bouncing on it. I muttered a rhythmic "oh dah, uh ya, mnh," until he pushed my upper back forward and pulled my ass back towards him. I felt my hole open a bit and finally got to finishing the word I wanted to say just as badly as he wanted to hear: "mmm daddy.." He helped me get the hang of bouncing my ass with a full back arch by controlling me to start with his hands. After I got the groove, he let go and I was doing it all by myself. I wish I had a video of this, the contrast in age was hot and the dirty talk got intense. "You look so hot bouncing on daddy's cock" followed by a spank or handfull of ass and response from me like "my ass is all yours big daddy." I bounced on that cock for about an hour before he bent me over the center console which was uncomfortable for both of us. So, he said lets move to the back. I was so horny at that I denied his attempted escape from my soon to be gaping "boy pussy." He let out a "Oh fuck" or something and then laughed it off. "If you do that again without warning you might make daddy bust to soon," he warned me "I want daddy's cum," I told him. He stuck his ams behind my legs almost at my knees and I thought he was trying to pull again so I pushed back. He went back, then pushed the back of my legs forward and lifted me up a bit so that my legs came all the way forward and then upwards towards my face. Thankfully I'm flexible from soccer because it was so quick and aggressive that I probably coulda torn a hammy. With his arms pulling both my legs over my left shoulder, he opened the door so we could get out. Once he got us out, he paused for a moment and began fucking me like that. My hole felt like a thousand tickles and a charly horse with every masculine pump he made. Forgetting we were outside, my moans got a little to loud for comfort so he slowed it down and told me "you want the whole mall to hear you beg for daddy's cock like a little slut?" My moans became mixed with a giggle after he said that and I came back to reality for a moment. Any form of control I had vanished when I looked down to see I was being held about 4 feet from the ground, in a cradle like hold with a fat cock buried in my wet hole. He let one arm down to open the door and held me with one arm as he brought us into the back seat of the car. Even during this movement, he was singlehandedly pumping my ass up and down with only his left arm. Once he sat us down, he sank in balls deep and revived that tickle and charly horse feeling again. Instead of fucking me, he just held me there, teasing me like a desperate slut. Despite my pleads for him to fuck me, he told me i looked like "such a slut in this position." I continued to beg but he held me there until my words started to cut off again. Probably sounded like "plee fuck plees fu me ple fuck". "You want me to fuck you like a slutty little bitch?" he asked me. I responded something like "yea, fuck me like a slut big daddy." That was all he needed before he started lifting my ass up and down on his boner again. He laughed and told me I was his "little pocket pussy." After another 20 mins of naughty talk and intense fucking, he finally asked me "You want daddy's cum my little anal slut?" (I wanted his baby at this point) "I want the cum please daddy." The feeling is something I'll never forget. I felt the warm streams slowly filling me and then trickle back out as my ass reached capacity. He gave me the last few minutes of his boner before it came to a sad end. I reached down to make myself cum but was let down when I felt my own cum already drained on my legs and chest. He gently pulled out and I tried to close my ass to keep his sperm inside me. As he lifted me off of him and onto the chair beside him I felt a huge pool of his cum flow out of my "boy pussy." Even then, I could feel more left inside me. I broke the awkward post-sex-with-a-stranger silence and told him "there is so much cum in my ass," with a giggle. "You can keep it, too" he said with a laugh. He asked if I liked it (even though he knew he gave me the fuck of a lifetime). I told him it made me feel like a total sissy boy, but I loved it then I wanted to know how i fared with an obvious sex-veteran like him. "How was I though?" he put his big hand on my thigh and looked me in the eyes "You have the hottest body I've ever touched, and the by far nicest ass on the outside and inside too." I blushed so red after that and tried to be modest. "If it wasn't as plump compared to my body I bet it would be better." He said that was his favorite part. "Why else would I spend so much time with my face on it?" "And that skin is like a fine silk. I thanked him and got out the car still naked and left the door open so he could watch me put my clothes on. I wanted to give him as much as he wanted before he left me. I put my shirt on first to keep my ass out longer for his lusty eyes to admire. Besides the sex, the feeling of his lust towards me was my favorite part. I asked him to give me my shorts and he came up to kneel behind me. I looked back to see what he was doing, and he opened my shorts for me to step into. I felt stupid when I realized he just wanted to get another look at my booty. "Why don't you pull those up for me?" I slowly bent over to grab them and gave him a few seconds of pause with my hands on my ankles. I could feel his breath on my hole as my juicy cheeks parted. After a long and slow lick from the space between my legs up to and around my hole, the man grabbed my left ass cheek with the grip of a bear and spanked my left one before he stood up and got in the car. I was sad that I wouldn't be getting more from him. Before he left he told me to check out the present he hid between my own butt cheeks. I reached down and felt a piece of paper. I was unfolding the mystery gift when he said "'til next time my perfect little piece of ass," and drove off. On the paper was his phone number. While I thought I was the horny one, he has been fucking this ass everyday for seven nights in a row now, after he spends the day flirting with the women he trains at the gym. So I've been full of cum for seven days now, and I can't get enough. (sorry that was so long I just want all my memory of it to last)