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#bird´s eye view
gemsofgreece · 5 months
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Monemvasiá at Peloponnese, Greece. Valantis M. Photography
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fortunaestalta · 2 months
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lightbulb-warning · 9 months
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wip! based on the fte!! this was supposed to be a small doodle!!! It’s me and my compulsive urge to overcomplicate my life against the world!!!! (/exasperated!!!!!) /lh
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whats-in-a-sentence · 8 months
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The valleys, far beneath them, were so green, and all the streams which tumbled down from the glaciers into the main river were so blue, that it was like flying over gigantic pieces of jewelry.
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"The Chronicles of Narnia: The Magician's Nephew" - C. S. Lewis
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artworksstore · 6 months
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I have just added the Bird's Eye View of Savannah print to my Society6 Store. This store offers additional products created from this design. Please visit the store by following this link: Bird's Eye View
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from IG theroyalfamily
Platinum Jubilee Pageant - 5th June 2022
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unissonmag · 2 months
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FLASH: BIRD’S EYE VIEW – THE NEW MAGIC
With Bird’s Eye View, The New Magic casts a spell on the world from the first notes. Review of an ambitious contemplative album. Continue reading FLASH: BIRD’S EYE VIEW – THE NEW MAGIC
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juliaridulaina · 6 months
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A vista d’ocell🦅Bird's eye view🦅A vista de pájaro🦅
De vegades m’agafen ganes de ser un ocell i deixar de ser l’eruga que només pot anar pel terra. L’ocell vola per damunt de tot; la seva vista ho abasta tot i pot decidir on posar-se segons hi vegi possibilitats. L’eruga te la vista limitada al seu entorn i no pot albirar on s’amaga el perill. Benedicció: Que sigueu una ànima elevada que vola constantment amb les ales del fervor i l’entusiasme.…
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yawnderu · 2 months
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>Simon has a neet weirdo as a best friend Or Simon Riley lets his best friend see his naked body for art references.
This wasn't the way Simon was expecting to spend his PTO; naked in his best friend's bed with his hand covering his soft cock, hoping not to make you uncomfortable as you took notes of his body's reactions.
“Can you like... get hard?” He was trying his best not to get hard, going as far as to think about gross things he's seen throughout the years to distract himself from the feeling of your nails raking up and down his bare stomach, defined muscles tensing and bulging beneath your palm.
“'S not how it works.” He grumbled out, tired brown eyes looking away from you. Simon isn't embarrassed— not at all, he's simply not used to someone inspecting him the way you are, curious eyes fully focused on his body, taking in every single tattoo and scar, living proof of how many times he's kicked death's ass.
“Well, just think about... I don't know, tits.” He lets out a dry chuckle at the awkwardness in your tone, trying your best to keep it professional in the name of art. He looks down at you with pure amusement the moment he sees your hand drifting up, tracing the outline of his defined, muscular pecs.
You take a second to fully admire the view in front of you, absent-mindedly starting to play with his erect nipple, not registering the way his breath hitches. Simon looks like a gladiator— lightly tanned skin making his rippling muscles stand out greatly, becoming the virtual image of ancient Greek fantasies, a plethora of scars showing how often he crosses the edge of death.
“Gettin' a bit touchy there.” His playful tone doesn't save the mild embarrassment, about to let go of his nipple before his rough, calloused hand grasps your wrist, encouraging you to keep touching him.
“'S working.” Simon's other hand moves out of the way slightly, just barely enough for you to see his hardening cock, veins starting to become more prominent along his long, meaty shaft. He doesn't protest when you move his hand out of the way, getting a perfect look at him.
“That's... oddly interesting.” The awkwardness coming from you never fails to amuse him, only making his ego inflate by the second, even when you look down at your notebook to keep taking notes of his body's reactions.
“Does it feel weird to get a boner?” He thinks about it for a few seconds before shaking his head, holding back a laugh at the blunt questions. In the name of art, she says.
“Not weird, just... I don't know, bird.” The expectant look that you give him distracts him for a second, trying to think of a better way to explain it.
“Feels good. Bit tingly most of the time, and you can feel it... y'know, grow.” Explaining what getting a boner feels like isn't the weirdest thing he's done for you, half-lidded brown eyes focused on the way you simply nod and keep taking notes, using his words as inspiration for the erotic novels he knows you write.
The room is almost quiet for a few minutes, Simon's breathing becoming harder being the only sound, feeling your soft hands caressing every single inch of his skin, feeling him up more than he can take... and ultimately edging him without even being aware, stopping to take notes every once in a while.
“I can show you how a man jacks off, too. For the sake of art, yeah?”
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geltears · 3 months
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3's a crowd
(dad) Nanami Kento x Reader
Nanami works hard to give his daughter another sibling cw: shameless smut, dad!Nanami, fem!reader, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, breeding, fingering, spit kink, pure filth, dirty-talk -> prequel of heart throb
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Nanami's heart pounds in his chest as he walks back to your shared bedroom. Your daughter's words have left his mind reeling, heart thrashing like a bird in a cage as her words replay on a loop.
"All my friends have siblings, I wanna be a big sister too."
Namiko was young, clueless and entirely oblivious to the true extent of what she had just asked of him. She was a cute baby,— she is an adorable child—and he honestly wouldn't mind another. He doesn't realise where his feet have taken him until he bounces his toe on the foot of your bed, groaning in pain soon after.
When you look up from your book, your eyebrows are scrunched in worry as you reach for your husband's arm. Like a pre-mature teenage boy, his cock twitches in his pants at the mere feel of your skin on his.
"Nami? Everything alright?"
"Mhm," he hums, "There's just something we need to talk about."
Nanami's breath becomes more rapid as he moves closer to you on the bed and his tongue seems to have a mind of it's own, desperate to speak to you, "Namiko wants a sibling."
His words are punctuated by the rough pads of his fingers rubbing loving circles into your clit through your thin panties as he tries to get you in the mood and it suddenly becomes all too clear what his intentions are--
He plans to give her the sibling she so desperately wants.
Your husband is large as he crawls on top of you, his big burly shoulders easily overshadow your frame and it makes your pussy twitch in anticipation. Your heart is thumping savagely in your chest with the rapid rise and fall of your tits— if Nanami was a bit sicker he would've slipped them into his big palms: one tit per hand and he would fondle and tease your sensitive nipples until you were leaking through your panties against his knee.
But Nanami is impatient, eager to bury every inch of his throbbing cock in your tight heat and ruin you until he was sure there was another little blonde baby in your belly.
He leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy and mushy kiss, "Hmm. Another baby wouldn't be so bad, right?" he breathes against your lips.
You've been married for years but you feel filthy with the way he's speaking to you, string of spit still connecting your lips and glistening in your dimly lit room.
"We make cute babies," you agree, in the way that a woman does when her husband plucks the stars out of the sky for her, "Make me a mommy again, Ken."
He shivers at your tone, feeling very much like a virgin again- Had his wife always been this coy? Or were the hearts in your eyes just extra big tonight?
You whimper at the feel of his ring and middle fingers easing into you, cold metal of his wedding ring pressing snuggly against your pussy. Nanami bends down to get an eye-level view of your pussy, hot breath fanning against your slick folds as he regards, "I love you and your sloppy cunt."
He keeps his fingers nestled against that squishy spot that makes your toes curl and digs them in to rub deliciously at your sweet spot and spits a fat glob of spit onto your clit.
"Hngg right there Ken."
And then he's sucking your throbbing clit into his mouth, tongue swirling as he steadily thrusts his fingers in and out of you until your thighs are shaking around his head. He eats your pussy through your orgasm, loving gaze drinking in your blissful expression as his tongue teases your hole to taste your cum.
"Nami kiss me," you're practically begging, flimsy arms outstretched to take him into your embrace.
You suck his tongue into your mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue in a way so lewd that both your faces flush bright red. His gaze is filled with nothing but love and lust— you think you could get pregnant just from the way he's ogling you.
"Nami- Nami put it in," you gasp, small hands fumbling with his belt as you try to get to his cock, "Please, Ken."
Nanami swats your hand away sternly.
"Lie back," he says and you obey gingerly. "Now show me your cunt."
When he thinks you're taking too long, he reaches down himself and spreads your legs to reveal your glistening cunt to the cold air. Your hole twitches under his stare, clenching around nothing as you desperately wait for him to fuck you.
Nanami is in love with you, he has been since senior year and he'll stay in love with you even after you're both dead. He'd do anything for you so he's determine to give you another baby.
It'll have your eyes— just like your little girl— he thinks and presses the leaking tip of his cock into you. "Oh god- Kento, you're so fucking big," you squeal, "I can't take it- Nonono."
He shushes you softly with a kiss, one that instantly makes you loosen up a bit and lets him push another inch into you. "I know," he whispers against your skin, "How're you gonna give me a baby if you won't even let me in?"
Desperate to please your husband, you cunt seems to welcome him gracefully, making wet sounds as he bottoms out. His moan as his balls press against your ass is sinful, making you groan all the same.
You squeeze your eyes shut, heat pooling in your belly as he twitches inside you. He's so big and thick and you love him and his fat cock. When you start to hump yourself against his cock, he squeezes your hip roughly and draws his hips back until just the tip is still nestled inside your cunt.
Your slick bubbles out of your hole around his tip and squelches when his hips slam back into you. "Pussy's fucking soaked- she's begging me for a baby." You whine in response, pretty manicured nails raking down his back in an attempt to keep him deep inside of you.
The tip of his cock bumps deliciously against your cervix and tears dribble from the corners of your eyes. He feels so fucking good- this is what it's like to have sex to make a baby. A baby born of love.
"Yesyesyes, cum in me Nami," you babble, mind lost with pleasure, "Gimme your cum- put a baby in me."
His pace is rabid now, hips shaking like a dog as he fucks into you wildly. His balls smack against your ass and your pussy squeezes him like a vice, working to milk him for all he's worth— for your precious baby. And he'll give it to you- he'll fill you up and keep your pussy stuffed of him until you're both satisfied.
"Tell me you want my baby- tell me you want me," he rasps. His hand snakes between your sweaty bodies to fiddle with your clit. He flicks it softly and rolls your wet nub between his fingers, pushing you closer to the edge.
"C'mon say it and I'll make you cum all over my cock."
"I want your baby, Nami! I only want you," your words slur as he cuts you off with a sweet kiss.
He meshes his tongue with yours and fucks your throat with his tongue as his cock plunges roughly into you. He makes you pussy sore and your heart ache as your entire body shakes and convulses in a series of bursts. And your pussy becomes so impossibly tight that he's got no choice but to slot his hips against yours and buck strangely into you as he cums.
He cums in hot, thick spurts and he makes sure to press his tip right up against the depths of your cunt so it all rests nicely in your belly.
.
.
Ao3
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gemsofgreece · 11 months
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Astypálea, Greece by Giorgos Charitos. 
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hypnosissheff · 2 years
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Birdseye view of Roche Abbey from Witches Cliff.
Birdseye view of Roche Abbey from Witches Cliff.
Quite a view of Roche Abbey from up here. Roche Abbey birds eye view Roche Abbey birds eye view All the best Tim
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pedge-page · 13 days
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Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife #10 : Snack Time
Joel Miller x F!Reader
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Summary: Momma bird hungry for all the snacks in the world. Takes some time and frustration before Joel figures out the exact kind of snack you really want.
Warnings: Pregnant reader, Angry!Joel, oral M!receiving, face fucking, throat bulge, throat-pie, dumbification, junk food binge, eating meat, bossy reader as always
18+ ONLY
- - - -
Joel didn’t know he married the Hungry Hungry Hippo, Galactus the planet devourer, Garfield the tabby cat.
You’re on your phone texting while cuddling Joel. He’s more interested in the movie than you are, but that doesn’t stop him from tracing his finger along your arm, occasionally kissing the top of your head and nuzzling his nose. He loves the scent of your shampoo after a wash, damp and cold against his warm chest. Sometimes you protest how closely he wants to cuddle you, all smushed up on the couch. Your body temp skyrocketed with the baby changing everything. But since he’s keep the AC on full blast, your warm heavy body keeps him from being a popsicle.
The landlines chimes in from the kitchen.
He rolls his eyes. Of course, something to interrupt the comfort that took 40 minutes for you to settle into. "I'll get it,” He grumbles quickly and hoists himself up off the couch. He wants to make whoever the fuck is calling at such a late hour a quick convo. If it’s fucking Tommy needing bailed out again, he thinks begrudgingly, I’ll just hang up on him. 
He clears his throat and answers: “Hello, Miller Residents.”
"Can you get me a bowl of Cap'n crunch while you're up?"
He glances back over at you sitting up on the couch, your cell to your ear as you wave at him. you point to your belly mouthing I T S  F O R  T H E  B A B Y.
It’s for the baby, my ass. You’ve been a hungry hungry hippo who’s been snacking like crazy and ignoring the doctor’s warnings. 
But cranky Momma is way worse than a scolding doctor. 
He grits his teeth and slams the receiver a little too hard down on the desk.
You can hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, a clash of a bowl on the counter  and the jingle of overly processed cereal filling it up. 
He walks back into the living room. You’ve taken up the whole couch now, with no inclination to move over to let him back on.
You shove a fist into the bowl and pop a bunch of the crunchy orange squares into your mouth “f’anks” you mumble, eyes not once making contact with him as you stare ahead and much away. Crumbs fall onto your chest and down to the floor and sofa, as if Joel hadn’t just cleaned all of it this morning.
.
The next night, Joel's cooking some steaks. You weren’t really a meat-crazed person, having maybe one or two helpings of poultry or occasionally red beef a week, but normally ,you could go without it for a few meals without thinking about it. 
Pregnant momma? She was a fucking carnivore. He had barely set the sizzling steak down before you snatch one onto your plate. He turns around to slice into one, checking its temp before serving, only to see it was a bit too red and bloodied on the inside.
"Oh babe I gotta cook these a little longer; they're too rare--"
You were hacking away and tearing a large chunks of the red, near pulsing meat, juices pouring out your lips, a vampire gorged on a fat blood sucking meal. Despite its tenderness, you chew endlessly and stare off into the table like a Llama enjoying its food on the field. 
"Maybe...we should—slow down a bit,” he suggests with uncertainty. His fork and knife frozen in midair, still in each hand. He hasn’t shifted view or blinked, but clear worry (and maybe a tad bit of fear) stretch across his face.
"Uighgrrfmggmmdeeofxsw,” you reply with gargled cow remains sloshing in your wide open trap. 
 “Right. That."
You swallow what’s left. Joel’s does a double take: your steak is somehow gone, juice licked clean off the plate in front of you.
“Can I have yours???"
He had only sliced 4 cuts  for himself so far. But the hungry look in your pupils, licking your lips while watching his dinner, it’s clear you’ve answered for him. He sadly sets his cutlery down and slides his plate to you. 
Its even more interesting when you douse it in salt and throw a slab of butter on top of it, watching it melt before slicing a big chunk off.
"You gotta watch the salt intake—“
“—Can you make chicken? I want chicken now.”
“N-no,” he shakes his head, whiplash from the conversation. Maybe you’ve gone def AND blind AND lost your taste buds. “I made steak. You've had 2 steaks now. Why do you need chicken?”
“That second one was for the baby. The chicken is for me.”
“What about the fist one?”
“….We split that.”
“Awfully hungry baby,” he says with a dead tone, straight faced as he eats the one roll left in the basket that hasn’t been devoured by you. 
“Well she’s yours, isn’t she?” 
-
You wipe your face with a napkin, a fried chicken leg and wing now securely packed tight in your tum tum along with the famished baby.
"What's for dessert?" You chime eagerly.
Joel turns to wash the dishes, hiding his smirk. He’s got you now, no surprise cravings will catch him short on this one: He boasts proudly, “I bought you apple pie--"
"I want cupcakes. Whip cream icing. Chocolate.”
His grin quickly deflates into a frown. “No.” He says sternly, a little aggravated. “I bought you pie—“
"Did I say I want pie? L I S T E N,” you snap, slapping your palms together with each syllable. 
He puts his foot down with tense sudsy hands going to his hips. “No. I'm not going out again.”
You raise your eyebrows threateningly. One look.
30 minutes later Joel is shuffling into the house with a pack of 12 cupcakes he bought at the bakery.
-
You’ve managed to prop yourself up on the couch after some heaving. “Ha! The baby is making me workout get strong! Obviously that’s why I’m so hungry.” You shrug it off. “Oh! I want raw cookie dough.”
Joel was on his phone the entire time, but the second you said I want, his brain queued in and he quickly retorts, “No.”
He goes back to replaying the voicemail he missed, settled and focused on the opposite couch.
Of course he Doesn't realize you’ve somehow lumbered up past him and now waddling back with 4 chunks of raw cookies in your hand, popping them in your mouth one at a time.
His eyes dark up to watch you, transfixed on the screen as you bend your knees, hardly paying attention to the way you’re about to fall on the couch. He has half the mind to help, but what’s one lesson you need to learn the hard way?
Regretfully, you bounce down successfully and pull your legs up.
And then, as you dust your hands off from the chocolate stains melted on your palms, Joel’s lips part in a o as you reach behind you and pulling an entire gallon container of animal crackers. 
"Babe"
"Wha?” You don’t turn around to look at him, still shoveling them into your mouth. “Yuu wan wan?"
"You need to stop eating every damn thing in the house.”
You gasp incredulously, your hand over your heart in painful offense. “The baby is very hungry! She's related to you and that belly.”
He only remembers to stop himself from reminding you that your belly is much bigger than his now. 
"The baby—“ (that was the new thing now: the baby  this baby that. The baby is why I need this shirt in blue and green. The baby is why I need the ice cream layered horizontally not stacked vertically. The baby —)
"No. Not the baby,” he snaps. “You."
You start to cry. "I thought I AM your baby!!!" 
He gives you a “seriously” look and you stop the fake tears.
“So how about it?”
“I don’t want you getting salmonella.”
“ugh fine. You can bake them I guess.”
He’s about to protest the idea of any dough going into your body, cooked or raw, but knows its going to be a lost cause.
Joel makes you a platter of Assorted cookies: chocolate chip, fudge, triple chocolate, sugar, and oatmeal raisin.
You clap your hands as he carefully places the little plate atop your bump. Humored by the custom “mini” table you’ve got going on now. Maybe his baby doesn’t like her head being used as a countertop, but with the way you close your eyes and moan after biting into the chocolate chip, babygirl must be pleased too.
He goes to the bathroom quickly and then comes back only to glare down at you. You've taken exactly one bite out of every single cookie, leaving crescent shapes for him to scathe.
Every cookie, except oatmeal raisin. You clearly did take a bite ,but spit it out and put the lump back near the undesirable #1 cookie.
“These mine?” Joel asks bemused.
You nod happily. You felt very proud to have enough control and leave him some this time! 
-
It’s about 9:30 pm. You're acting drunk and woozy even tho you're just a new level of tired and achy
"Woopppoooooo!!! Paaartttaaayyy!" You shout with fists in the air, drinking down a shot glass of sugar water. 
“Alright party Momma. It’s bedtime.” 
"Ppfffttt! No old man! Dont steal my fun.”
Joel stands over the couch, blocking your view from the TV, his hands on his hips. “You're being difficult "
“YoU’rE bEiNg DifFicUlT,” you mock and wave him off. "Oop I need to pee. Help me up.”
Joel” grabs both your grabby hands and hoists you up to your feet. “Now up the stairs, you.”
You waddle towards the stairwell, one hand cupping your lower back. Joel is right at your heel. you up at the treaturous journey ahead, all 8 steps to the top floor. Cracking your neck side to side, you wave your arms over to the handrail and begin: “Left foot. Right foot. Left. Fuck. Fuck stairs. Who invented stairs. Left foot…”
Joel’s so sleepy that he nearly falls forward. And he knows you would not take too kindly to him ramming his face into your ass as you battle your worst enemy.
Finally to the top, you scurry over like a penguin to the bathroom. He fears the long night ahead, with all the sugar swirling in your system undoubtedly going to keep him up.
He rubs his wears eyes. Startled when a moment later you’re right next to him by your side of the bed, patiently waiting for him to help you up.
"Get in the covers,” he hums with exhaustion.
But you don’t move. “No"
"Now.”
"I want an orange.”
"No. You—you just had your snack."
"That was the baby's snack. I want MY snack”.
Dear Christ almighty, bless me with a boy next time so that I have a fighting chance against her and mini her. “If I get you an orange, will you go to bed?" He asks irritably, his voice enunciating each word to ensure the contract that he’s making with you right now is solidified on both ends of the bargain.
You think it over before nodding with a little innocent beam. 
You crawl into the covers just as Joel descends the stairs once again. It takes the entire time for him to grab some oranges, a peeler, and paper towel just for you to rotate your middle and sit your ass in bed.
You sit up against the headboard and clap your hands, so excited when he reappears with the goods. He puts the towel on your mini-table bump and plops one orange atop.
Joel sighs and begins to walk towards his side of the bed, but is haunted when you clear your throat for his attention.
“Yes?”
"Peel it.”
He tries not to visibly roll his eyes before he's opening the round orange with his large fingers and clubbed nails. Everything smells like nectarine now.
Picky as can be, you peel off the extra dried white veiny bits and suck on each pod of the orange.
You expect a sweet simpleness to squirt on your tongue, but instead, a sour, bitter, unripe taste floods your mouth. “Ugh these are gross, now I want—“
Joel closes his wardrobe drawer, his shirt off and only halfway down to his boxers. “NO. NO means fucking NO. I’M TIRED. YOU’RE TIRED. WE'RE GOING TO BED. NOW,” he barks sternly into the mirror. His shoulders huffing from such aggression without being able to look at you.
You throw the covers off, orange skin and slices flying everywhere.
“Fuck you! I want ice cream! I want bananas and steak and potatoes and tacos and—!" 
-
He bares his teeth in a snarl, deep angered eyes casting downward with each poignant rut. “You're so annoying, so goddamn spoiled,” he grunts. His huge hands are wrapped around the top of your head and  cupping your jaw and bulging cheek, keeping you in place as he pushes his length into your mouth over and over again. “You’re gonna do shit when I tell you, the first time I say—shit—fuck there we go—gonna listen—unnggghhfff—listen ta me from now on. Just be my good little silent. Slutty. Pregnant. Wife.”
Your teary eyes are fixed upward at his imposing figure. Feeling each time his tip nudges the back of your throat has you gagging but you can’t pull away to breathe—not that you want to.
“You get—what I give ya—and you be grateful bout it.”
You gargle a moan in agreement. His balls slap against your chin with brutal punches. by this time tomorrow, there will be Joel-finger prints bruising your face and neck.
You love it. You love it when Joel forces you out of the hormonal phase of bossing him around, the endless need to want more and more, no end in sight to your greedy gluttonous desires, until he’s blowing up and blowing off steam using you instead. And it becomes very clear to you how much you just really wanted him this whole time. 
“That’s it—that’s it—you were hungry for my cock weren’t ya? Yeahhhh. Just begging me all night for it. Wanted all that meat for dinner, huh? Couldn’t just come out n’ say it? Your little brain didn’t know what ya truly needed. S’okay, Momma. I’m takin’ care of ya, aren’t I?”
The gluglugglug sounds mixed with strained pitchy whines echo in the master bedroom.
You grip his thighs with your hands to steady yourself, allowing him to abuse your throat. Maybe your knees hurt. Maybe the baby is settling uncomfortably against your lower back, and maybe it’s going to be really difficult to get up from this position in a few minutes. But each thick throb of his length filling your mouth over and over again, the spit slick strings dropping from your lips to your swollen tits, and the dent in your throat from his cock stretching to accomodate his size has your swollen pussy dripping into the carpet for more, more, more. 
It’s been at least a week since Joel drained himself. No wonder he’s been so on edge with each demand. Usually marveling how cute you are, but tonight he was at him limit. You were about to get a hefty, Joel Miller sized load filling your belly, and it’s going to be better than any cookie, steak, or orange in the entire world.
He feels the way your lips suction tighter. Your eyes are leaking tears, and he smirks as he brushes his thumb over to collect it. Briefly bringing it to his tongue and sucking on the salty taste before holding your head in place. 
“Shhh-shhhhhhhh. You gonna take it? Shit—shit—fuck yeah you are. Gonna fuckin take what I give ya, that’s right. My sweet wife. Bossing me around. Shit. Love when ya get like this. Known I’m gonna wreck that ass or that pussy or that mouth—all belongs to me. Fuck—fuck—fuuckk—“
His mouth drops into an o, brows drawn tightly together as slams his pulsing member balls deep into your mouth one final time. You choke, eyes wide as the tip of his cock breaches the deepest part of your throat, your nose suffocated by his pubic hairs and the fat of his lower belly surrounding your cheeks. His balls twitch against your lower lip, and you feel it coming. The travel of his seed from his sack, up his shaft along your tongue—a generous spurt of cum finally shooting from his tip and down your throat. You gag with each fat load that he pumps down your esophagus, too much to swallow at once yet having no other choice but to gulp it down quickly. Your face feels hot. He’s cumming endlessly, your mind blanking and eyes feeling blurry.
“Take it, take it, take it, that’s it,” he hisses through clenched teeth.
You nod just a little, hugging your arms around his thick thighs tighter. He grins, humming “That’s my good fucking wife, and throws his head as the last of his pleasure makes its way safely from his sated balls to your full womb.
Joel pulls you off his length gently. You sputter out cum and saliva onto his feet, sucking in air through your lungs like a newborn. 
Joel gets to one knee, his thumb pressed gently under your chin so you look directly at him. He’s got such softness in his eyes again, the ones that just switch on a dime the second he’s satisfied his aggress out on you. 
You’re completely wrecked: snot spit connecting to your nostrils and swollen lips, cheeks warm and eyes puffy and hazy with exhaustion and tears.
“That—mmffffgg!—was—definitely—my—snack,” you rasp with a hoarse voice. A lazy grin spread across your face only briefly as you continue to suck air.
Joel shakes his head before planting a long kiss atop your forehead. his hands glide along your body, and just in time as your knees give way and you’re falling into him. 
If you had half the mind right now, you’d curse him out for scooping you up and carrying you to bed like his once youthful bride, too concerned with the size and weight of your new body putting unnecessary stress on his aging knees and back. But Joel doesn’t protest once. Just watches you with loving eyes as he settles you into the soft bed. His tongue dips to your chest and breasts, kissing and sucking away any remnants of his rough face fucking. His cum, your spit, and fuvk it, even the little snot specks—all of it he cleans up before coming up to your lips. He kisses you softly with gentle pecks, enough to ensure you can still catch your breath. He sucks your lower lip into your mouth before wiping his own with his thumb. You’re calmer now, sated and drifting so close to sleep.
Joel clambers into bed next to you, wrapping his arm under your head and swaddling you close. You instinctively roll into his embrace. Kissing his peck and rubbing your face against him dreamily with soft breaths. “Tha hit ther spert juss rite. Ur da bess, Jol.”
“I know. So are you.” He waits for a reply, but nothing comes from you. “Are you goin’ into a food coma, baby?”
Your gentle snores answer him, along with the drool now pooling on his peck.
He chuckles and pulls your head into his face, inhaling your scent. Strong, secure, graceful hands caress your big belly. Your very very full belly, the one that he’s not going to envy when it gives you a the tummy ache tomorrow from stuffing it with so much junk food tonight. 
- - - -
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whats-in-a-sentence · 8 months
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On their left the mountains were much higher, but every now and then there was a gap when you could see, between steep pine woods, a glimpse of the southern lands that lay beyond them, looking blue and far away.
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"The Chronicles of Narnia: The Magician's Nephew" - C. S. Lewis
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artworksstore · 6 months
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This is a digitally remastered and enhanced reproduction. It is based on the 1891 lithograph produced by the Morning News in Savannah, GA. The original copy contained signs of wear and tear, discoloration, small rips, and stains. Some minor imperfections remain. However, the completed print’s restoration presents a colorful characterization of life in Savannah, Georgia in 1891. The map features over 100 places of business, public buildings, railroads, canals, parks, and churches. Small insert images at the top and bottom include the Board of Trade Building, the Chatham County Court House, the historic De Soto Hotel, Guckenhelmer & Sons Wholesale House, and Altmeyer & Co's. Dry Goods Store. The original artist was German-born Augustus Koch. Kotch served in the Engineers Office of the Wisconsin Infantry during the Civil War as draftsman, and then later as an officer. He was a prolific artist producing a number of bird’s eye view illustrations.
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unissonmag · 2 months
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FLASH: BIRD’S EYE VIEW – THE NEW MAGIC
Avec Bird’s Eye View, The New Magic enchante le monde dès les premières notes. Review d’un album contemplatif ambitieux. Continue reading FLASH: BIRD’S EYE VIEW – THE NEW MAGIC
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