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FRIDAY VISUALS!

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Masked Pursuit

*sign* 

This is based off of a poll I made about Vincent Sinclair. 

Idk how it came to this. But anyhoo! Enjoy! (hopefully)

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DO NOT INTERACT.

You were fucked.

You wished you hadn’t listened to your stupid ass friends. You wished you hadn’t stepped foot in this shitty ghost town for fucking gas. If only you had noticed something was odd when the wax figures looked a little bit too real, but now it was too late. Now, three of your friends have been turned into wax sculptures as some sick and twisted art, and you witnessed your final friend get his head blown the fuck off by a crazed mechanic with a shotgun.

Now you were in the house of horror, Trudy’s House of Wax.

“SOMEONE! FUCKING HELP ME!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. The sound of echoing heavy footsteps behind you pierced the air as you darted through the wax exhibit, fear etched across your face. You weren’t looking to be turned into a fucking wax figure by this maniac.

The dimly lit, eerie atmosphere engulfed the wax museum as your breath came in short gasps as you tried to escape. Your heart pounded in your chest as you glance over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of a masked man closing in on you.

Silent figures of ordinary people, frozen in time, surround the room you passed through.

You felt like they were watching you reach your inevitable death.

Eventually, you stumbled upon another section of the wax museum after running for what seemed like forever. You stand there at one end of a surreal and otherworldly kitchen, where everything, from the smallest utensil to the grandest centerpiece, is made entirely of wax. Wax replicas of pots and pans hung neatly from hooks on the wall, casting distorted reflections.

When footsteps stop short of the doorway, your eyes widen. Your attention was caught by the strange man, whose raven black hair cascaded down to his chest. The both of you stare at each other for a moment, and it was only the sound of you heaving that filled the room.

The tension in the wax kitchen reached its peak when a confrontation unfolded between the two of you. You frantically scanned your surroundings for an escape route and spotted a mahogany door. But you couldn’t just run towards it without being grabbed and eventually sliced and diced by this dude.

No.

So in one desperate move, you grab the wax plates from behind you on the counter and hurl them forcefully at the man as he advances towards you. The plates, fragile and brittle, soar through the air, spinning and twirling in a chaotic dance.

However, your efforts prove futile when the man’s instincts kick in, and with lightning-fast reflexes, he raises his arm in a protective gesture. The plates collide with his forearm, and in a shower of broken wax fragments, they disintegrate upon impact. At that moment, you bum-rushed through the door for a much-awaited freedom only to stare down at a stairway that took on an eerie and macabre form. Your eyes danced across a haunting amalgamation of faces and flickering candlelight.

“What the-” Before you could finish your sentence, something hard pushed your back causing you to tumble forward. As if in slow motion, you felt yourself falling head over heels until finally hitting the bottom with an agonizing thud.

You groaned as pain shot up from every part of your body while trying to catch breaths between sobs. The masked man stood at the top of the stairs looking down at you like he had just won some sort of twisted game show prize for catching his victim after an hour-long chase around the waxed rooms.

Seeing you helplessly lay before him, the masked man was like a hawk swooping down on its prey, ready to snatch it up in its talons as he began descending slowly toward you.

“Please…Please stop! I’ll leave!” you begged. The man cocked his head at you in response, almost as if he was wondering what to do next.

“Just let me leave. I promise I will never come back again,” you pleaded with the man who seemed  to not listen to a word you said. He just kept on staring at your body, his blue eyes slowly sliding up your frame. It was as if he was lost deep within the folds of his mind. His gaze was so intense that your legs trembled in fear.

All of a sudden, he reached behind his neck to undo his black apron, then began undoing the zipper on his pants. All you could do was watch him as a feeling of arousal mixed with dread crept into you. Your breath became heavy as his cock sprang out. He quickly removed his pants and kicked them off along with his apron leaving him completely naked from the shirt down. You stared at the thick, hard shaft sticking straight up from between his legs, dripping pre-cum from the tip.

It looked big enough to be the biggest dick you’ve ever seen, or maybe you just imagined it was that large because you weren’t getting any lately. 

Your eyes were fixed on it as you laid there. Your mind silently complimented it. You tried to imagine what would happen if you resisted. Out of all the scenarios you saw yourself dying regardless. So what was the point?

At least if you die after this, you’ll die knowing you received a good dicking.

“You know what? Just fuck me.“ you exclaim out of breath. “I’m gonna die anyway.” 

You let out a whimper as he grabbed your wrists, pinning them against the floor above you.  The masked man that lifted you up slightly by your waist, to line your clothed sex with his member.

Your breath hitched in response to the man unbuckling and pulling down your pants to reveal your purple panties. You felt cold air 

He moved the crotch area of the panties aside on your wet puffy lips and then shoved himself inside your virgin pussy with his giant cock. It hurt a lot at first because it was bigger than anything you had experienced before, but once he started moving in and out your pussy walls, all you could do was moan with pleasure as he filled you completely.

He began to thrust inside of you in a quick rhythm, his hips slamming into yours with powerful force. His balls slapped against your ass, making a loud smacking noise that sent shivers down your spine as you moaned louder. You felt sweat start to bead on your forehead and trickle down your neck as he slammed into you even harder. He was taking control, and you liked that a lot. You wanted to feel his cock pounding into you.

“Ohhh~” you had completely forgotten about him killing your friends as he pumped your pussy like he was possessed by some kind of sex demon. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders while he pounded into you over and over again like he didn’t need to breathe in order to stay alive.

He was going to kill you. You knew it. Yet the pleasure coursing through your entire body was too much to handle as he continued to hammer away at your tight cunt. You could only whimper in protest as he drove into you relentlessly.

“OH fuck" you grunted, “I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum” You began to buck uncontrollably, unable to keep still as his length teased at the right spot inside of you. Throughout your body, your muscles tightened with excitement. You felt your climax building deep inside of you and all you could do was let go. You came like a rocket, squirting hot jizz all over the base of his member as you screamed in ecstasy.

With one last thrust, he let out a loud grunt as his thick load spurted deep inside of you. He collapsed onto you and lay there panting as you both caught your breath together. 

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Gillian Anderson for Melody Maker Magazine.

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drew barrymore

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Take off with me 🪐 #music #art #artist #producer #saturn #distrokid #sailorsaturn #smoke #weedgirl #vibes ##weedslut #sexysmokers #artistsoninstagram #artistoftheyear #smokinggirl #high #satisfaction #takeoffwithme #explorepage (at Chesapeake, Virginia) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cil8FQdOsxG/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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Carol Kane, c. 1978.

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