#Consent Decrees

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Phillip Jackson at HuffPost:

Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.) introduced a bill Wednesday that would give federal and state officials more power to hold police departments accused of bad behavior to account. The Enhancing Oversight to End Discrimination in Policing Act, led by Warren and in the House by Rep. Marilyn Strickland (D-Wash.), would strengthen the power of state attorneys general to launch investigations into police departments involved in civil rights violations if the Justice Department fails to act on them. The bill would also task the Justice Department with looking beyond “traditional law enforcement mechanisms” when providing reforms to selective police departments such as mental health support, civilian oversight bodies, and community-based restorative justice programs, according to Warren’s office.

Warren had introduced a version of the bill in 2020. This newest version of the measure would also revitalize the Department of Justice’s Civil Rights Division, granting an increase in funding to pursue civil rights investigations into police departments and other government offices accused of discriminatory practices. It would increase funding for the civil rights division to $445 million per year over a 10-year period. (For scale, the 2023 budget for the division was $189.9 million.)

Warren first introduced her bill following the death of George Floyd in 2020. That earlier draft also called for Attorney General Merrick Garland to rescind a 2017 memorandum from his predecessor, Trump-era Attorney General Jeff Sessions, that limited the DOJ’s ability to initiate consent decrees on police departments — a key way of stopping bad behavior. (Garland rescinded that memorandum in April of 2021.)

Nine senators co-sponsored the bill: Cory Booker (D-N.J.), Ed Markey (D-Mass.), Jeff Merkley (D-Ore.), Peter Welch (D-Vt.), Ron Wyden (D-Ore.), Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.), Chris Van Hollen (D-Md.), Tammy Duckworth (D-Ill.), and Mazie Hirono (D-Hawaii). Several civil rights organizations are backing Warren’s new bill, including the American Civil Liberties Union, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the National Urban League and others.

Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-MA) and 9 other co-sponsors in the Senate are supporting the Enhancing Oversight to End Discrimination in Policing Act to strengthen police accountability. Rep. Marilyn Strickland (D-WA) is pushing this in the House.

[carmelasoprano]

CARRIE PRESTON and JORDANA BREWSTER Elsbeth · S02E13 · "Tearjerker"

[notbecauseofvictories]

because I rent a car to get out to my office, sometimes I'm confronted with a radio that has wildly different preset stations than I would ever select. mostly this means I have to suffer through a lot of country, or christian talk radio, before I run out of patience and switch over to the stations I like; but other times, it's someone with a thick accent reading a very lengthy advertisement for the Chicago Public Library in an almost....computerized way? and then long carnatic music, with a celtic fiddle breakdown in the middle? with absolutely no explanation for why this is what it is.

.........only afterwards did I discover that it's the station for a nearby university. then it made sense.

[mariacallous]

We’re going to see more approaches like the expansion/easing of involuntary commitment because that’s the kind of quick and decisive action that the voters have indicated they wanted and who cares about rights or needs, especially for homeless people.

And with the incoming federal administration, there’s not going to be the same level of funding or policy approach like we’ve had.

So buckle up yall.

[sangelune]

so who's gonna let me do their bingo cards using athrun 👉👈

[iamrhyme]

Listen 🎧 to, download ⬇️, click the heart-shaped

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The Narrative Podcast promotes positive reinforcement of original people and original people culture.

The Narrative Podcast provides positive frames of reference about original people and original people culture.

The Narrative Podcast: Changing the Narrative one episode at a time by destroying negative stereotypes about original people and original people culture.

Tune into the Narrative Podcast and become a Narrator.

Let's change the Narrative!

Visit the virtual online bookstore on Poetizer.com and purchase my original book of poetry "The Black Card." Purchase The Black Card today or get your black card revoked!

[djkerr]

TGF 02x05 Day 436

[writers-potion]

List of Interesting Latin Phrases

A list I made just to satisfy my vain cravings for resonating mottos for a secret society I'm working on. Enjoy!

abi in malam crucem: to the devil with you!

ad astra per ardua: to the star by steep paths

ad augusta per angusta: to honors through difficulties

aegis fortissima virtus: virue is the strongest shield

amor vincit amnia: love conquers all things

animo et fide: by courage and faith

arbitrium est judicium: an award is a judgement

aut mors aut victoria: either death or victory

aut vincere aut mori: either victory or death

bello ac pace paratus: prepared in war and peace

bibamus, moriendum est: let us drink, death is certain (Seneca and Elder)

bonis omnia bona: all things are good to the good

cede nullis: yield to no one

cito maturum, cito putridum: soon ripe, soon rotten

consensus facit legem: consent makes law

data fata secutus: following what is decreed by fate (Virgil)

durum telum necessitas: necessity is a hrad weapson

dux vitae ratio: reason is the guide of life

e fungis nati homines: men born of mushrooms

ego sum, ergo omnia sunt: I am, therefore all things are

pulvis et umbra sumus: we are but dust and shadow

quae amissa salva: things lost are safe

timor mortis morte pejor: the fear of death is worse than death

triumpho morte tam vita: I triumph in death as in life

tu vincula frange: break your chains

vel prece vel pretio: for either love or for money

verbera, sed audi: whip me, but hear me

veritas temporis filia: truth is the daughter of time

vero nihil verius: nothing is truer than the truth

vestigia nulla restrorsum: foosteps do not go backward

victus vincimus: conquered, we conquer (Plautus)

sica inimicis: a gger to his enemies

sic vita humana: thus is human life

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

Reference: <Latin for the Illiterati: a modern guide to an ancient language> by Jon R. Stone, second edition, 2009

[nationallawreview]

SCOTUS Freezes States’ Efforts to Resolve Water Conflict

What Happened? On June 21, 2024, the Supreme Court narrowly held that three states could not enter a consent decree to settle their interstate water dispute without the support of the intervening federal government. The ruling halts the agreement between Texas, New Mexico, and Colorado to settle Texas’s claims and reconfigure water allocation under the Rio Grande Compact going forward. The…

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Lauren Gambino at The Guardian:

The Trump administration is considering placing Columbia University under a consent decree, according to a report by the Wall Street Journal, a dramatic escalation in the federal government’s crackdown on the Ivy League institution. The university has already accepted a series of changes demanded by the administration as a precondition for restoring $400m in federal grants and contracts the government suspended last month over allegations that the school failed to protect students from antisemitism on campus. A consent decree – a binding agreement approved by a federal judge – would be an extraordinary move by the Trump administration, which has threatened government funding as a way to force colleges and universities to comply with Donald Trump’s political objectives on a range of issues from campus protests to transgender women in sports and diversity and inclusion initiatives. As a party to the consent decree, Columbia would have to agree to enter it – and the Journal report states that it is unclear whether such a plan has been discussed by the university board. In a statement to the Guardian, the university did not directly address the report. “The University remains in active dialogue with the Federal Government to restore its critical research funding,” a spokesperson said. According to the Journal, the proposal comes from the administration’s antisemitism taskforce, composed in part of justice department lawyers, who have reportedly expressed skepticism that Columbia was acting in “good faith”. If Columbia resists, the justice department would need to present its case for the agreement in court, a process that could drag on for years with the university risking its federal funding in the interim.

The Trump Regime seeks to put Columbia University under a consent decree. This is such an egregious attack on academic freedom, and similar to what Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis did to New College in Florida.

[kabr0ztrousers]

Hiya ! I love your posts, they are all amazing 🫠

I'm not sure if you're really into poly relationships, but i've got this on my mind for a while now.

Reader is dating two monsters, the monsters know each other since kids and get along very well, they are predators, they like to play with their mate as if she is a prey.

Someone tells her they'll eventually hurt her for real and now they're upset, to make her feel safe again, they decide to show off to the whole village how they take care of their mate (if you know what i mean 🫦).

Kabr0z Writes Episode 60: Beauty and the Beasts

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Lashings of oral sex; public sex; exhibitionism; interspecies; knotting; enthusiastic consent; restraints;

A/N: This one sounds like fun, and it's not gonna kill me to write this one and the other I have planned to make up for missing Wednesday.

Plus I get to put out a little more exposition on why there are werewolves in a low-magic world. If there's one thing you've probably worked out about me, I love me some ✨Exposition✨

As always, requests go to the ask box or DMs so they're in the queue when I check it. I won't not do stuff asked for in comments or reblogs, but they won't be in the queue so they're very likely to fall through the cracks

##########################################

The year is 1670. Almost twenty years since everything changed. You were only a small girl then, when the sun darkened and the menfolk of your village changed. You remember them falling to the ground as bones cracked and rearranged, blood streaming from broken faces as snouts and muzzles replaced human mouths and noses, tails bursting from the smalls of their backs, and the fur spreading in patches to cover their skin. Then, the sky lightened again. Those who had changed picked themselves up, strong limbed and sharp toothed, but still themselves despite the monstrous form they had taken.

Other villages suffered the same, boys and men who saw the shadow over the sun turning into monsters. A royal decree came a week later. The changed men were to leave the towns, banished to the forests and woodlands where they would bother the women and the unchanged no longer. So it came to pass that the lupines were driven out. Most were never heard of again, but you still heard stories of children being born in villages with tails and fur, the get of the banished wolfmen.

You were approaching your twenty-fifth year. Despite them being banished you never lost touch with your close friends from youth, a pair of boys named Leo and Michael, if anything, you'd grown even closer to them over the years. You could well understand the tales of wolf-children being born.

Your rendezvous with them had not gone unnoticed either. The men of the village gave you a wide berth, not wanting to get too close to you for fear of your wolfen lovers. The women who would still speak with you warned you to no end that the lupines you cavorted with under the stars and the treetops would be the end of you. Of course, over the years, fewer and fewer women spoke to you. They were all getting married, their husbands forbidding them to consort with the strange woman of the village, warning their children away from you. Little by little, life in civilisation became quieter and quieter, lonelier and lonelier.

You head leant on Leo's belly, complaining about the villagers, gently stroking Michael's back as he topped off the cuddle pile. Michael's tail began to wag as you saw a mischievous grin spread over his features

"What are you thinking" you were starting to match his grin. Michael had the best plans

"Well, if you're miserable there, why not join us lupines? They see you as one of us, why not leave?"

You hummed, it's not like you hadn't thought about it "I don't want them using it as an excuse to come after you..."

Leo snorted "They wouldn't have waited if they weren't so scared of us, though I like the idea of giving them a show of things... They want to banish you? Let's give them a reason"

Michael's grin widened "I have an idea... Mind if Leo and I talk a few minutes alone? I wanna make this a surprise"

That's how you knew this was gonna be good. "Sure, I'll be by the river, need a piss anyway"

You took your time. You couldn't hear them over the flowing water, but you could see them discussing intently from your spot. Every time one of them spoke, the other would get more excited until they were both looking at you. You stood up, letting your skirts cover your ankles again as you walked back to them "Made a decision?"

"Yeah, just about... Oh, one quick thing"

Leo tapped Michael's hand and held up two fists "left or right?"

Michael chose left, the fist was empty, the other revealing a crumpled leaf

Leo smiled "I win"

Michael laughed "Right, now we're ready. Do you trust us?"

"Always" you nodded. You'd known these two since you were children, you helped them get used to walking again on their back-turned legs, you brushed their fur and spent every spare moment with them. You'd trust these two men with your life.

Good thing too. The moment the word left your mouth, Leo tackled you and both of them took off in a sprint. Towards the village.

A lupine can outpace a stallion if they have a mind to, and over a longer distance. Many of the changed men had left the country and were living as condottiere in Italy and France if the tales were true. You could feel why, the wind rushed through your hair as the two wolves charged down the path to the village centre, alarmed cries coming from behind you as the furry blurs sped past terrified peasants.

They stopped at the pillory, placing your head and hands in the wooden frame and shutting it, keeping the latch closed with a stick jammed where the shank of a padlock would fit. You knelt there a moment, head waist-high off the ground, knees on the paved stone below you, a crowd gathering and murmuring as the wolves howled around you, stomping and snarling at the villagers. You tried not to laugh. They're trying to make a scene.

The crowd must have grown to their liking.

"You there! Priest!" Leo pointed at the local clergyman "Come here!"

The crowd pushed the hapless man forward, clutching his bible ahead of him like a shield "W-what are you going to do with me?"

Michael laughed at him, trying to make it sound scary, but only making it harder to keep the grin from your face "You're going to marry us"

The priest stammered a protest, but a showing of sharp teeth from both wolves silenced him. He cleared his throat "We are gathered here today to witness the union of this woman with this" a snarl "These, sorry, these... men? Er, that is to say if any know of any reason why these... people should not be wed, please speak or forever hold your peace" The priest held his eyes shut. Silence fell for a moment, a voice yelled from the back of the crowd "Get on with it!"

"Ahem. Yes. Er" the monk stammered again "Do you take these wolves to be your lawfully wedded, er, husbands?"

You nodded your head "I do" you croaked out, mouth still dry from the run

"And do you-"

"We do" both of your wolf lovers said in unison

The priest drew a cross in the air in front of the three of you "in which case I pronounce you man and wife" The last words were said so quickly it took a moment to process. Then the wolves were upon you.

Michael stood in front of you as Leo stepped behind, tearing the skirt off your rear end, showing you off to the villagers behind you. His tongue went at you, licking your cunt vigorously, making your jaw drop at the ferocity of his touch as he held you open and ate you out. Michael craned his head to watch as he gripped his sheath, the cock inside starting to poke out. The pillory kept your mouth at crotch-height as he slapped his cock on your cheeks, teasing you with the feeling of it as he painted you with his scent. You tried to catch it again and again as the crowd jeered, every time it rubbed against your face, giving you another sniff of his shaft. Until, of course, it didn't.

The crowd cheered as his cock slipped into your mouth, and you started to suck it. Michael grabbed the pillory and started to fuck your face while Leo brought a hand to your clit, sending an orgasm rocking through you as the pad of his finger circled your sensitive nub.

Leo stood up behind you and leant over, his hard cock between your thighs "I'm gonna take your maidenhood, alright?"

You nodded, the cock in your mouth stopping you speaking, the roar of the crowd would drown out any muffled grunts of approval. Thankfully, Leo saw the slight move of your head as you looked into his eye.

The cock pulled out from between your thighs, then plunged into your pussy. Your eyes widened as he pushed in, gently at first but gaining speed with confidence. Your legs bent as your toes curled, the canine cocks ramming into both sides of you building up to another orgasm as the braying, yelling crowd surged your adrenaline.

You felt your pussy squeezing on Leo as Michael hilted himself in your mouth, spraying hot cum down your throat. There was just so much, you felt it dripping from your nose and leaking out of the seal of your lips.

Michael's grunts set Leo off. His knot started to swell in you as he howled, the first load of cum your womb had ever taken, filling you to the brim and over the top. You tried to lock your legs around him, but needn't have bothered, the knot stuck the two of you together.

The crowd started to disperse now, the show was over, all that was left was the gentle licking of your new husbands as their excitement wound down. You each knew the villagers wouldn't do anything about this, there wasn't a watch to speak of and by the time a magistrate blew through you'd be long gone.

It took almost an hour before Leo's knot deflated enough to pull out of you. You opened the pillory with a single push from your back, the flimsy stick giving way immediately. It was only there for show, after all. Together you walked back to the forest where you met with the rest of the lupines. After all, you're family now.

When you finally came with child, you weren't sure which of your men had actually fathered the pups, but you didn't care, they were sure to be great fathers. Plus, you'd even started seeing familiar faces from the village again, moving in with new, furrier husbands.

All's well that ends well, you suppose

####################################

Don't be alarmed that this episode is being published in the evening, rather than 1am, I'm not getting all responsible on you, rather just making sure I'll have steam in the tank for tonight when the next regularly-scheduled episode is going to be written!

One of these days, I'll write a couple ahead of time to build a backlog. Until then, this shit's happening live!

[iamrhyme]

Listen 🎧 to, download ⬇️,

click the heart-shaped ♥️ like button, comment 🗨️, on and share episode 309 of the Narrative Podcast across all social media platforms.

The Narrative Podcast promotes positive reinforcement of original people and original people culture.

The Narrative Podcast provides positive frames of reference about original people and original people culture.

The Narrative Podcast: Changing the Narrative one episode at a time by destroying negative stereotypes about original people and original people culture.

Tune into the Narrative Podcast and become a Narrator.

Let's change the Narrative!

Visit the virtual online bookstore on Poetizer.com and purchase my original book of poetry "The Black Card." Purchase The Black Card today or get your black card revoked!

[chilling-seavey]

Lessons in Lust and Other Illicit Desires (gr63) —SEVENTEEN

↳ A/N The big night is upon us!!

↳ Series Summary: Sensible, wise, and a hopeless dreamer, Rosaline was used to men not giving her a second glance. She soon discovered it was merely those mundane college boys who were nothing more than simply intimidated by her intellect. What she needed was a man — someone who could impart knowledge beyond the Classics and guide her in discovering her own confidence as a woman. The thrill of sneaking around with the ever-so-charmingly handsome Professor Russell was certainly a bonus.

↳ Pairings: OxfordProfessor!George Russell x Innocent!Student!OC, Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc (background)

↳ Chapter Word Count: 9.1k

↳ Chapter Warnings: 18+, smut, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, edging, slight overstimulation, some dirty talk, lots of praise, clumsy and slightly tense 'first time' moments, pain, blood, some crying, self-consciousness, consent and reassurances!!, protected sex.

Rosaline came to decree that the dormitory showers were not equipped for the level of preparedness she needed to be that Saturday night. In her miniscule corner shower of her equally as miniscule dorm-room bathroom, it came to be known that shaving and exfoliating your legs was not quite an easy task. With her foot hiked up on one acrylic wall of the shower and her back pressed against the opposite one, hair plastered over her forehead with the water pelting down on her, she carefully dragged her razor up the entire length of her leg from ankle to thigh. After contorting herself into a myriad of different positions until she was as sparkling as polished silverware, Rosaline progressed from shower to vanity and desperately prayed that the fuze wouldn’t blow while she dried and styled her hair. 

She told herself it was just another night out—maybe to keep from overthinking it and risking cold feet or a change of heart—all she had to do was get ready (nothing too extravagant, just enough to feel good about herself), take the bus to George’s house, where she would spend the night. She had followed that same routine a few times already this term so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, and yet, the weight of what tonight truly meant sat heavy in the back of her mind, impossible to ignore.

Tonight was the night she was going to lose her virginity. 

It was a completely made up social construct, she had always told herself on those nights where it felt like everyone around her had been having sex and, now, what she told herself as she sat on the bus and fidgeted with her purse in her lap, trying to keep the nervousness at bay. Sunset was falling upon Oxford and Rosaline distracted herself with the colourful bath of light that stained the ancient city and shadowed the streets. A comfortably warm, clear skied evening. Calm. 

As the bus drew closer to the outskirts of the city, thoughts of how the night was going to play out, if she was going to be awkward, lingered in her mind, despite the fact she knew that George had never and would never judge her. Still, vulnerability settled in her chest, making her heart race. They had shared so much already, but this next step—this final step—felt entirely new, a threshold she had never crossed before. No one had ever been this close to her, not like this. She trusted George, cared for him deeply, and was certain of her choice, and yet, a quiet awareness stirred within her: after tonight, she would never be this version of herself again.

Once she disembarked the bus at the stop down the street from George’s house, she lingered there a moment, staring at the white brick townhouse just a few short blocks away. The front porch light was on as if becoming her home. With a deep breath, she crossed the street before she could overthink herself into a tizzy. 

George’s house smelt delicious when she was welcomed over the threshold into the familiar foyer, and it wasn’t simply due to his usual tasteful cologne he wore. It smelt like supper, like a delicious home cooked meal, and George was barely able to close the door behind before she was complimenting it. 

“It smells so good in here,” she smiled despite the nervous energy bubbling in her stomach as she toed off her shoes. 

“Why, thank you,” George replied politely. He then set a hand at the small of her back to bring her attention properly to him with a soft, “Hello.”

“Hi,” she said softly and met him halfway for a quick kiss in greeting. 

He gestured her farther into the house, “After you.”

When she turned the corner into the main living space, she noticed that the usually empty dining room table was set with two full place settings and a row of flickering candles, the chandelier dimmed to an almost romantic warmth. The speaker on the sideboard was playing soft classical music just to make the whole thing feel more cohesive and peaceful. Rosaline swore for a moment she felt tears prick at her eyes and her breath shuddered in her chest, her dizzying worriedness fading away little by little. It was just George. 

George slipped past her towards the kitchen, giving her hips a squeeze on his way past, “Dinner is almost ready.”

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked, lingering in the passageway to the kitchen.

“No, no,” George assured her, “I have everything under control.”

The counters were crowded with cutting boards and food scraps and used mixing bowls and measuring cups and a half-soiled recipe book propped up against the coffee maker. George was bent over and reaching into the oven, donning an oven mitt on each hand as he checked the temperature of the meat. Rosaline couldn't help but eye the way his slacks fit over the curve of his ass or how his cream button-up pulled over the flex of his back as he reached into the oven. Was this the thrill of domesticity? 

George had made a full English roast of beef, julienned root vegetables, quartered potatoes, and yorkshire pudding beneath a homemade gravy and as they settled at the dining room table together, George poured them each a small glass of red wine. Rosaline set her napkin on her lap as she took in the feast. 

“This looks amazing, you really outdid yourself,” she said softly.

“Hopefully it tastes as good as it looks then,” George chuckled modestly, “I could never quite make it as well as my nan could.”

“I bet you did her proud,” Rosaline assured him with a smile. 

They were quiet as they started to eat, settling into each other’s company and the comforting ambience of the candlelight and quiet music. Rosaline kept stealing glances at him from across the table, feeling those butterflies in her stomach now fluttering in her heart as she sat there at what could have arguably been the most romantic moment of her life. A homemade meal, candles, music, how he even dressed up a little as if wanting to look good for her. It felt like a dream. 

Despite the way she felt comfortable around him at that moment, the awareness of what was to come was still lingering in the back of her mind and stealing her appetite. She didn’t want to be rude so she tried to keep eating, cutting little bites of roast beef or carrot at a time, nudging things around her plate to make it look more empty than it was. 

She was silly to have thought George wouldn’t notice. He watched her for a moment, eyeing the way she shifted things around her plate with her fork, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as if she were deep in thought. 

His voice broke her out of her trance with a concerned, “Is it okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, sorry,” Rosaline set her fork down and dropped her hands to her lap, fiddling with the edge of her napkin, “I’m just not really hungry, that’s all.”

“Oh,” George frowned slightly, “Is…everything alright?”

Rosaline nodded, meeting his gaze as she nudged up her glasses with the back of her index finger as she confessed in a near whisper, “Yeah, just a little nervous.”

George’s features softened and he reached a hand across the table towards her, his voice as gentle and patient as always, “Like always, we do nothing you don’t want to do. You hold the cards. And just because I made you dinner doesn’t mean I…expect anything. Alright?”

She knew that but she appreciated hearing it, that little bit of reassurance to ease her mind. She nodded in reply and set her hand over his, watching as his fingers collected hers and his thumb caressed her knuckles. Oh, she was utterly infatuated with him, and that simple moment only reaffirmed her certainty that he was the perfect person to share this final, defining step with.

The meal continued quietly, only the odd conversation lingering here or there, the shared moment housing the impending night to come. After a while, with Rosaline only having finished half her plate, she set her fork down and lifted her napkin from her lap to wipe her mouth, trying to distract herself from the nervous anticipation buzzing beneath her skin. George, resting back in his chair comfortably with his entirely empty plate in front of him, had been watching her in that quiet, knowing way of his, the candlelight catching in his eyes as he swirled the last sip of wine in his glass.

Noting her pause, he asked, “All done then?” 

“Yes, it was delicious,” she said kindly, “Sorry that I…couldn’t finish it.”

George shook his head as he stood up to start to clear their plates, “Don’t worry about it. I understand.”

“Can I help—”

Rosaline moved to help clear the table, but he gave her a look—one that told her to stay put, to let him take care of it. They exchanged a silent smile and she settled back into her chair again to let him clear the dishes himself. 

She lingered, alone, in the dining room, listening to the clink of the dishes and the running of water from the kitchen as he cleaned up, her fingers toying with the bottom hem of her blouse. Rosaline knew she was nervous—hence her lapse in appetite—but there was also a layer of impatience that was steadily growing as time ticked by. She checked the time on her phone out of habit, as if she had anywhere to be other than right there. 

From the kitchen, George called, “Shall I put the kettle on?”

She chewed at her bottom lip for a moment before replying, “I’m fine without, thanks.”

When he appeared in the doorway from the kitchen again, she couldn’t help but notice the slight concern on his expression. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his slacks with a gentle, “There’s no pressure, darling. Please don’t worry yourself sick over it.”

Rosaline shook her head, “I’m not worried. It’s just the anticipation, really.”

George pushed off the doorway and walked across the dining room to stand beside her at the table. He offered out his hand for her to take and spoke with a soft conviction, his words giving her space to change her mind, “Come upstairs with me?”

It was the invitation she had been waiting for. 

She exhaled slowly and set her hand in his, “Okay.”

She stood from the table and followed him across the living room and up the stairs. It was a path they had taken many times before, one she was all too familiar with, and she found herself subconsciously counting the steps as they ascended them. Fourteen. And then nine steps down the upstairs hallway to his bedroom. The same as always. 

His bedroom was just as tidy as she had always seen it with the bedsheets pulled tightly and the decorative pillows dotting the bed, not a single piece of clothing on the floor or tossed over the back of the chair in the corner. It wasn’t unfamiliar—she had been here before, had spent nights wrapped in his sheets, tangled in him. But tonight was different. 

Their hands parted once they stepped inside and Rosaline lingered in the doorway as he walked over to close the curtains and then switched on the warm lamps on the bedside tables. When he turned back to her, his expression was soft, contemplative, as if trying to read her. 

She took another step into the room and, knowing what he was thinking, offered a murmured, “I’m okay.”

George’s lips quirked slightly, “Yeah?”

Rosaline shared in his timid smile and they met in the centre of his room, “Yeah.”

Their hands met between them, careful and slow, as if they were touching each other for the first time all over again. Rosaline watched how his fingers traced hers, following the contours of her hands, until he captured her fingers and raised them to his lips to kiss her knuckles. His eyes raised to hers with their hands held between them, his gentle breath falling against her fingers as his thumbs delicately traced the shape of them. 

The warmth that his gaze inflicted into her bloodstream had her taking a half-step towards him, pulling her hand out of his to grasp the back of his neck, and she pressed her lips to his in a gentle yet sure kiss. 

It was as if a majority of her nervousness settled the moment their lips met, as if the familiarity of his kiss grounded her in the moment and kept her from spiraling into a mess of hypotheticals. She lost herself in it for a while, sharing kisses in the middle of his quiet bedroom as their hands wandered and lips and tongues explored, enjoying the moment of closeness with him. It wasn’t until she was suddenly being cradled by the plush mattress of his bed that she realized just how distracted by his lips she had been.

Clothes were slowly shed between passionate kisses, George taking his time to undress her and kiss over her skin as more of her body was exposed to him. It seemed to be a familiar routine by then as she relaxed into his mattress and let her fingers slide through his hair and over his shoulders as he moved down her body. She didn’t feel quite as anxious about being naked in front of him anymore, not even as he lowered his head between her thighs and started to lap at her pussy. 

Rosaline’s eyes fluttered closed as she succumbed to the feeling of his mouth on her—something she had really grown to love and crave over the weeks, and something he clearly enjoyed giving her just as strongly. He took his time with it, kissing and licking and suckling at her cunt like they had all the time in the world. He never made her feel rushed and that night in particular was no exception; he had promised her that he was going to make it special for her. 

And as he found home between her legs, he certainly succeeded in that, as the minutes drifted by and her skin grew flushed with pleasure. He kept luring her closer to the edge before easing up, keeping that anticipation and need building and building, wanting her to be as willing and wonton as possible. She withered at the addition of his fingers, one at a time, slowly, easing her into it, calmed by the steady pace of his tongue on her clit. 

Her back arched off the bed and her fingers tightened in his hair and across the sheets as he started to thrust his fingers into her in firm, shallow, angled nudges while his tongue flicked at her clit simultaneously. She let out a small cry of pleasure, wrinkling the sheets in her white-knuckled grip, trying to nudge herself up against his mouth even more. George moaned against her pussy at her eagerness, the vibration of the sound making her shiver, and, as he lay splayed out in only his briefs between her legs, he subconsciously rutted his hips against the mattress beneath him. 

But just as Rosaline felt that tight coil of pleasure starting to build in the pit of her stomach again, George’s fingers slowed to a stop. She whined faintly in dismay but before she could complain, he eased his two fingers a little deeper before spreading them apart in a v-shape inside her a little. She pulled in a sharp breath at the faint stretch as his slender fingers pressed against her tight walls and slightly tense muscles.

“Good girl,” he breathed, words slightly muffled by his mouth on her and the soft wet kisses he pressed to her clit, “Just breathe for me.”

Rosaline panted as she lay splayed out over his bed, legs parted absentmindedly and fingers threaded through his hair, buzzing with pleasure. George leaned his head back a little to get a proper look at her and, at the same time, pursed his lips to dribble some more spit onto her cunt so he could smear it in with his fingers. 

“I’m going to add another finger, okay?” he asked lowly. 

She had never taken more than two before but she trusted the process and nodded to him, following it up with a soft, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoed, gently easing in his ring finger along with his middle and index.

Rosaline winced slightly but more so in anticipation than anything as the stretch was tight but not overly uncomfortable. He was gentle and patient and his tongue met her clit again to help relax her with the good feelings as his trio of fingers carefully prepped her. 

George’s breath was hot against her cunt, “There you go, good girl. Gonna get you nice and stretched out and ready for me.”

She could hear how wet she was as he started to thrust his fingers into her in cautious movements, the tight squeeze only seeming to make the sound of the lewd wet squelch more obvious. Her jaw was slack as she took his fingers, eyelashes fluttering in near awe at the feeling and how full and warm it felt before anything had even really happened yet. If anything, it eased the last of her nervousness and replaced it with an eager desire to satisfy her curiosity and her craving of what it would be like to finally and properly have sex. 

Rosaline tried to be patient as George fingered her and tongued at her clit in slow, sloppy motions, dragging it on and blurring her senses with rising pleasure yet again; those taunting waves of rising euphoria before he backed off again were starting to drive her a little crazy. So, she splayed her hand flat over the crown of his head and gave him a tiny push with a soft, “Please…I’m ready.”

George’s eyes snapped up to hers and he pulled away from her cunt with flushed cheeks and his mouth and chin glistening. He licked his lips—although it did nothing to help the mess—and then spoke gently, “You sure?”

She nodded and he carefully retreated his fingers and she adjusted herself on the bed with a soft, “Yeah…”

He leaned down over her to kiss her lips and her hands instinctively gravitated to his sides, feeling the muscle beneath his warm skin as he held himself up overtop of her. They shared a few sloppy kisses before he was moving off of her and shifting to the side of the bed to pull open his bedside table drawer. Rosaline took a breath, watching him as he fished out a modest bottle of lube and a brand new box of condoms. With his pinky, he broke the tape sealing the box and then opened the top to fish out one of the square foil packages inside before setting the box on the top of the bedside table.

In the warm light of the bedside lamps, Rosaline watched as George set the condom packet between his lips so he could shuffle out of his underwear and drop them off the side of the bed, leaving him as naked as she was. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him like that but he was just as gorgeous as ever and her gaze shamelessly traveled down his toned figure and lingered on his hard cock that stood up and out from his body, ready. For her.  

George held out the condom to her with a gentle offer, “Do you want to do it?”

She nodded and sat up a little more before carefully ripping open the first condom she had ever touched outside of high school health class. She set the empty wrapper with the box and George shuffled a little closer on his knees to position himself between her legs so she could reach him. He wrapped a hand around his dick to pull back the foreskin just enough, exposing the leaky head to her wide-eyed gaze. 

His other hand reached out to help her turn the condom the proper way up, instructing her in a warm whisper, “This way up. Pinch the tip there.”

She set her thumb and forefinger over the tip of the slippery condom as he instructed and then moved her hands closer towards him as he held his dick steady. His hand covered hers, helping her to set it in place.

“Now roll it down,” he said.

Her technique was slightly ungraceful from her inexperience, taking a few extra strokes to unroll it down around the shaft of his cock, but he didn’t rush her. When she removed her hands, he just rolled it a little bit farther towards the base but didn’t call her out on it.

Instead, he offered her an almost proud smile and a soft, “Great job.”

She held up her hands between them with a shy giggle, using the back of her hand to nudge her glasses farther up her nose, “My hands are covered in it now.”

George chuckled softly and leaned forward with his hands against the mattress on either side of her, “You can wipe them on me. I don’t mind.”

Rosaline hesitated a moment but then set her hands on his biceps, letting the small amount of lubricant from the condom smear onto his skin rather than lingering on her hands. She had to admit, she wasn’t crazy about the feeling of that substance. At the same time, George had popped the cap on the bottle of lube and squirted out a generous amount onto his fingers and over the protected shaft of his cock, taking his time to smear it all over and then applied some to her pussy too, slipping his fingers a little inside her to make sure she was plenty wet. 

When he reached over to grab a tissue from the bedside table to wipe off the worst of it from his hand, Rosaline took that moment to ask timidly, “Do you want me to take my glasses off?”

George’s expression furrowed momentarily as he settled back between her legs, “Why would I want you to do that?” 

“I dunno…is that a thing people do?” she mumbled nervously, still gently caressing his biceps and shoulders as if soothing herself, “Like, will they get in the way? Do they ruin the mood?”

George smiled down at her and before he even spoke, that look alone was already easing her nervousness. He assured her softly, “You look beautiful with your glasses. Please leave them on.”

Rosaline shared in his smile, a rouge to her cheeks as she breathed, “Okay.”

George leaned down to kiss her again, swallowing her lips up with his in sensual, passionate kisses, and her hands slid up to the sides of his neck to keep him there. She focused herself on his plush lips against hers to distract herself from the storm of anxious anticipation that was starting to swirl in her stomach again, her butterflies creating a tornado with how fast they were fluttering. The soft hum she let out against his lips was accidental, almost as if she were soothing herself, but George didn't flinch. 

Their kiss only broke once she felt something much larger than his fingers pressing against the slick skin of her cunt. Her little gasp had him dusting a kiss to her cheek. 

“You still okay?” he checked in with her. 

“Yeah,” Rosaline’s arms went around his back to hold him close, her legs pitched outwards on either side of him.

“You’re comfortable like this?”

“Yeah…this is good.”

George’s eyes met hers, speaking seriously to her although his words were gentle and kind, “If you need to stop, tell me, alright? No hard feelings.”

“I know,” Rosaline breathed.

George nodded ever so slightly once. She mirrored it; the both of them sharing the silent affirmations. 

“Take some deep breaths for me, darling,” he whispered, his voice rich and soothing and it seemed to work wonders to ease her racing heart. 

Rosaline stared up into his eyes as she took in a deep, cleansing breath and then slowly let it out, her hands pressed securely against his shoulder blades and the muscle of his upper back, holding onto him. Oh God, this was it; the moment she had been anticipating since high school. Everything else they had done so far had far exceeded her expectations so, despite her natural nervousness, she was also filled with a hint of excitement to truly and wholeheartedly experience everything. 

George took a few more deep breaths with her, connecting them in the moment, and then he was moving his hips a little closer, just enough to start to press inside of her. The first little bit didn’t feel like much of anything as her labia spread to accommodate him, welcoming him in for that first half-inch. She kept her eyes on his, motionless, speechless, trying to focus on the feelings, the moment. Him. 

But then, as he eased a little deeper, there was a sudden ache that pushed between her legs and had her instinctively tensing up with a surprised, “Ow.”

George stopped immediately, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry…” Rosaline’s exclamation had even taken herself by surprise, “Sorry, it just…kinda hurt there a little. I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting it. Keep going.”

George leaned down to kiss her once more before he started to push into her again. But he barely got any farther, held back by the resistance of her tight cunt, when she let out another small “ow”. He stopped again.

Rosaline frowned and lifted her head up to look down between them as if she could see why it was hurting this much. People had told her that the first time would hurt but she swore that this was almost unbearable; was she just a complete wuss or did everyone else feel like this? Okay, she was only starting to panic a little. 

“Maybe we should stop. I don’t want to hurt you.” George offered. There was almost a slight fear in his voice, a vulnerability Rosaline had never heard from him before. 

“No, please, I’m okay,” Rosaline almost pleaded, resting back down on her back. Her hands grasped onto his back as she stared into his concerned eyes. “I want this. Please, I want this.”

“Okay…” George exhaled as if steeling himself for this just as much as she was. He started to push himself in some more, getting just a little bit farther, and Rosaline clung onto him tightly, holding her breath, trying to ignore the intense ache that shot between her legs. George must have seen the obvious wince of pain on Rosealine’s face as he stopped once more with a nervous sigh, “You’re in pain, love.”

Rosaline, getting absolutely fed up with her body not just doing what she wanted it to do, huffed in frustration, demanding desperately, “Just shove it in or something!”

George’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “I’m not going to shove it in, darling, blimey.”

Rosaline covered her flushed face with her hands to try and take a deep calming breath, muttering, “Fuck, this is stupid.”

George eased back—even though he had been barely inside her—and he leaned down to kiss her forehead with a small sigh before whispering right to her, “It’s not stupid. It’s your first time; it’s bound to hurt.” 

She removed her hands from her face and met his concerned gaze, a small pout on her swollen lips. As much as she wanted it, it felt like the world was against her, not willing to give her what she desired. It almost brought her to tears. Rosaline took a trembling breath and wrapped her hands around his biceps, confessing softly, “I want this so badly. I want you so badly.”

George’s fingers gently played with the ends of her hair that was splayed out over his pillow and the pitied look on his face had her heart in her throat. He sighed softly, as if at a crossroad of how he should allow that moment to progress, before finally offering in a soft, worried whisper, “Maybe if we try a different position, it’ll be easier and hurt a little less…would that be okay?”

Rosaline relaxed a little at his words, thankful that he wasn’t just going to give up on her that easily. She nodded, “Yeah…we can try.”

George shifted out from between her legs and she followed his guidance until they had switched spots so he was laying out on the bed, head on the pillows, and he helped her to get on top of him. She straddled his thighs and stared down at him and his handsome body beneath her. It almost felt like this was a dream; some crazy out of body experience. Her hands rested against his pecs.

“This is a little intimidating,” she giggled nervously. 

George’s hands found their way to her hips to position her over him properly and his thumbs rubbed gentle circles against her skin and he chuckled softly at her statement. He stared up at her with a comforting smile and a breathless whisper, “You’ll be fine, darling. Just take your time…do what feels right for you. There’s no rush.”

Rosaline shifted from her knees on either side of his waist to her feet, struggling to stay balanced on the soft mattress but George was right there to hold her waist and help to keep her steady. With one hand, he reached down to grasp his achingly hard cock and angle it properly for her, holding it in place as she ungracefully situated herself. When she got herself into position enough to feel the protected head nudging against her cunt, she shivered, her hands pressing against his chest. 

“Nice and easy,” George whispered softly.

Rosaline took her time to slowly sink down on him ever so cautiously, trying to breathe through it. The burning ache returned as he reached only about an inch in and her face scrunched up a little and she eased back up slightly with a quiet, anxious whimper. 

George’s voice was tight, “Does it still hurt?”

“A little,” she muttered, hands still flat against his torso for stability, “I’m sorry.”

He sighed, “Oh, Rose, darling, you have nothing to apologize for. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“No, it’s embarrassing—” 

The words were barely out of her mouth before he was reaching a hand up to gently take her chin in his grasp and he guided her eyes to his. There was an unmistakable seriousness in his kindhearted expression as he said, “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. If you want to keep trying or if you want to stop, whatever you want, it’s completely fine with me.”

“I really want this,” Rosaline breathed, her voice shaking. “Please…I want to keep trying.”

A small smile grazed George’s lips and he stroked her cheek with his thumb, “If you’re sure. I just can’t bear the thought that I’m hurting you.”

“You’re not hurting me,” she mumbled, although her attention was already turning back to the task at hand. 

She reached down to make sure his cock was angled properly against her and when she started to sink down again, her palms fell flat against his chest. She could feel him watching her, silently, his hands tight on her hips to stabilize her but not rush her, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over her skin. The pain was obvious but her determination was stronger as she breathed deeply and started to move in tentative little bounces as if to work her way down. 

George’s breath caught slightly but he played it off with a tight, “That’s it…”

Despite his quiet encouragement, she didn’t speak, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth and nose scrunched as she eased herself down little by little, pushing aside the pressure that ached across her hips and between her legs. The warmth that flowed through her veins was unlike anything she had felt before and, finally, once her bum met his thighs, she felt on fire. Rosaline stilled, then blinked, and then raised her gaze to meet his as if in complete disbelief that she had really truly succeeded, that they were officially and entirely joined together.

George smiled at her, a dreamy, lopsided, handsome grin, as if he were holding himself back from showing her just how incredible it felt, and his hands gave her hips a little squeeze. His voice was hoarse and strained, “How’s that?”

She could feel his rapid heartbeat under her hands, the feeling of his skin against hers feeling more intense than ever before. Rosaline raised a hand to set against her abdomen, right over where he was tucked inside her, “It’s…fine. It feels…strange.”

George’s eyes scrunched closed through a warm, low laugh, and his hands tightened on her hips as she shifted a little on top of him, choking his chuckle into a tight groan. His eyebrows furrowed in the middle, head tilting back just slightly, and she watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. There was an unmissable look in his eyes when he finally opened them again, the blue of his irises saturated by the dilation of his pupils, staring at her with nothing short of desire, something so intense she had never seen before. But she wanted more. She wanted him to look at her like that until the end of time. 

He spoke finally, “Darling, you…you have no idea…you feel so good.”

She gasped at the unexpected feeling of his cock throbbing deep inside her and her hand pressed down against his abs again with a breathy, “Oh my God…”

George’s next inhale was shuddery, his hands kneading the flesh of her hips as if a way to distract himself from just taking over. Rosaline knew the logical thing to do was move but she was frozen in place, staring down at him, her mind feeling fuzzy.

“I don’t know what to do now,” she giggled shyly, rubbing her hands over his chest, “I’m gonna look ridiculous and clumsy.”

George’s lips perked up at the corners and his hands trailed down from her hips to her thighs, rubbing gentle lines into her skin, “You won’t look ridiculous, darling. Just move however feels good for you, alright?”

Rosaline shifted off her feet to rest on her knees on either side of his waist instead and then slowly started to roll her hips against his. She wasn’t completely oblivious to some of the techniques—she had written plenty of erotica to understand the basic mannerisms—but doing it herself felt so strange and unfamiliar. Her hips rocked in lazy back and forth motions, testing the water, figuring out what felt good, her attention focused on George’s face as if also wanting to make sure he was enjoying it too. 

“Yes…” George exhaled, his eyes focused all on her like nothing else mattered, his hands firmly on her thighs, “Yes…just like that…you’re doing so well.”

“Is this okay?” she asked softly. 

“Yeah, it’s perfect. Does it feel good for you?” 

“Uh huh,” Rosaline barely replied before she changed up her movement from rocking to little bounces, her mind racing and curious to try everything she possibly could. 

That simple change had George’s eyes nearly rolling, his head tossing back against the pillow with a handsome groan, fingers pressing into her hips and starting to give her a little help finding a bit more of a rhythm as he groaned out a tight, “Ohh, good girl.”

“Fuck,” Rosaline whimpered. 

Everything felt like so much, so overwhelming, like suddenly every single nerve-ending in her entire body was ablaze. She had experienced pleasure before—by her own hand and also by George’s guidance—but this? This was a whole new world. It still hurt just a little as her body worked to accommodate the stretch it had never been exposed to before but there was something about that pressure that felt so insanely good at the same time. As she fell into the pleasure, into the lust, she stopped caring about what she looked like and started prioritizing getting more out of the moment.

She moved her hands off his chest and they fell on either side of his head, causing her to be leaning over him as she rocked back and forth on him, her clit now able to rut against his pelvis. She choked over a moan, hair falling over her face. 

“There you go,” George purred, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears before his hands were sliding down the curves of her body to wrap around her waist, grabbing onto her hips, her ass, “Perfect girl. Look at you taking all of me. Does that feel good?”

Rosaline could only nod.

“Yeah? Just like you wanted?”

The whimper that forced itself past her lips was almost completely involuntary, as if it were answering for her. His words and the weight they carried only spurred her on, more sweet sounds tumbling from her lips as she rocked herself back and forth on him a little faster, fueled by inexperienced desperation. 

“That’s it—” George groaned lowly, hands gripping her hips, “Oh, god, darling….just like that….move your hips for me…oh, you feel so good—”

“Oh my God,” Rosaline wrapped her fingers around the headboard, trying to use something for leverage as her thighs were starting to burn, a wince across her face as she shifted on top of him again, trying to adjust herself to keep going with those messy bounces.

George caressed her thighs tenderly, speaking to her in a warm breath, “Slow down, love. You don’t have to push yourself.”

“But I want it,” she whimpered, and then huffed as she shifted again to try and get back on her feet despite the way her thighs were trembling, “My legs are just so fucking weak, oh my God.”

He chuckled softly, understandingly, “Would you be open to changing positions then? Let me take over for a bit?”

The pitch had something in Rosaline’s chest taking flight and although she tried to play it off, the instinctive clench of her cunt at his words had a smirk playing at his lips. Of course he could feel it. With a bashful bite of her lip, she nodded.

“I’m going to move you onto your back, alright?”

“Okay.”

With her consent, he guided her down to rest chest to chest before hooking an arm around her back and rolling them over. He was so smooth with it that Rosaline gasped in surprise, now laid out on the bed again with him gloriously over top of her, still inside her, and bathed in the soft warm glow of the bedside lamps. That handsome smile of his was ever present on his lips. 

“Comfortable?” he checked in. 

“Comfortable,” Rosaline echoed in the affirmative. Her hands magnetized to his chest, sliding over his pecs and the faint dusting of chest hair between them, and then her fingers traced his collarbones and finally rested on his broad shoulders. She gave him a little tug and he took the hint, leaning down to capture her lips with his in a searing, passionate kiss. Tasting herself on his tongue would never get old and although it had grown to be a recurring theme, the added pleasure of doing so with him buried deep inside her made it all the more thrilling. She wondered if he could hear how hard her heart was beating. 

When their kiss broke, a thin string of spit broke between their lips. His eyes skimmed over her face as she laid out beneath him, hair fanned over the pillow and she was sure her cheeks were flushed a brilliant pink. George leaned down to nuzzle his nose against her neck and he placed a soft kiss against her pulse point, “Mm, you look so good like this, my darling. You feeling okay so far?”

“Mmm,” she hummed dreamily with a small smile at his affection, her hands sliding around his waist to caress his warm skin, “Yeah, I’m good. I’m really good.”

George’s lips grazed across her jaw as he slowly pushed deeper into her before easing back out, starting to find a gentle, shallow pace to start them up again. Rosaline’s breath shuddered and her eyelashes fluttered as he started to move, her hands pressed firmly around his back as if to cling onto him as he set a slow pace. He ghosted kisses across her jaw and her cheek with his forearms on either side of her head, keeping their bodies close as he made love to her for the first time. 

“You’re so tight, darling…so warm…God, you feel so good—” his words were shiver-worthy against her ear, his voice like honey. 

Her ragged breaths were falling with every gentle thrust of his hips against hers as if he were pushing the air into her lungs at the same time. Their eyes stayed locked in their close proximity, sharing oxygen, sharing pleasure, sharing the moment that was only theirs to have. Rosaline’s legs naturally parted wider, permitting him deeper, and although his gentleness felt good, she was burning for more. 

“Please,” she breathed, barely recognizing her own voice, “Please, sir.”

“What do you want?” he asked her against her cheek, his voice thick with pleasure, “Tell me.”

Rosaline squirmed underneath him, back arching and head tilting back and her hands wrapping around his biceps, “Mm, please, go faster. I want…more.”

“You want more, baby?” he purred tauntingly. He punctuated his words with a bit more speed, not wanting to give her too much for her first time but still wanting to be good for her. “Like that?”

“Mmm, yeah, fuck—” Rosaline’s fingers pressed into the muscle of his arms, fluttering eyes still locked on his. 

“Yeah?” George stared back into her eyes as his body moved against hers in slow but sure thrusts. 

It was almost clear across his expression that he was holding himself back but, at the same time, the way he looked at her made her feel like she was absolutely everything in the universe to him; like nothing else mattered. Oh, she wanted to live in that moment forever with him, wanting to keep him inside her for the rest of time. And when he leaned down to kiss her again, her whole body shivered with pleasure. 

They kissed languidly, sloppily, tongues meeting between swollen lips and off-centered kisses, all their focus on the way he slid into her and back out almost all the way, giving her every last inch in tender, generous, almost loving, strokes. His fingers tangled in the ends of her hair that splayed out across the pillow, gently touching her like she was an angel incarnate. Her hands were all over him like she didn’t know where to touch, like the sensations she was feeling were so intense that she desperately needed something to hold onto, her fingers dragging helplessly across the smooth skin of his back as she writhed beneath him and tried to keep kissing him. 

As if sensing her struggle, he blindly guided her hands down to the pillow on either side of her head so he could lace his fingers with hers in a snug grip. Rosaline could have melted on the spot at the gesture and if they weren’t still kissing, he would have been able to see the way her eyebrows quirked as if in a sweet pout. The bedroom was a steamy mess of body heat and pleasured sounds—their kisses, moans, the faint creak of the bed frame—and Rosaline was attuned to everything all at once. 

The taste of his mouth was like heaven and she kissed him back with a hunger that was unquenchable, clashing of lips and tongue in a dance of desire and passion and lust, her fingers tightening around his to clutch onto him, grounding herself in him. Deep inside her, the pressure of that glorious fullness sparked heat in every single nerve ending, luring him in with a warm and sure grip with every thrust. Part of her couldn’t believe this was really happening, that everything she had fantasized about was coming true right then and there. And with him; such a perfect vision of a man that her most elaborate fantasies couldn’t even comprehend. 

It sounded silly but she felt like so much had been leading up to this moment, a journey of self-discovery and freedom of passion and independence. The realization that it was all hers had her unable to hide the small whimper that fell into their kiss. She turned her face away from his kiss, letting his forehead rest against hers as he kept his tender pace and she desperately tried to blink away the tears of pleasure and relief that were blurring in her eyes.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” George whispered adoringly, “Such a good girl, so beautiful…taking all of me. Does it feel good, darling?”

“Yeah,” Rosaline choked out, voice quivering, hands tight in his, “Yeah, feels so good. Please don’t stop.”

“Won’t stop,” he promised, leaning down to lick his way into her mouth again before capturing her lips with his own. After a second, he spoke again, against her lips, “Won’t ever stop, baby. You have all of me.”

She could feel that pressure building within her, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening a little more second by second, but it didn’t quite feel like enough to get her there. She tried to scrunch her eyes closed to focus on the feeling, get herself in that mindset, wanting so badly to allow herself to come from this and this alone. Her needy whimpers muffled against his lips, hips trying to push up against his, desperate for more. 

Reading her like a well-loved book, George spoke, “You wanna come for me?”

Before she could protest that she likely couldn’t without more stimulation, he let go of one of her hands and snaked it down between their bodies to get his fingers on her clit. She was so fucking sensitive that only the first graze had her entire body shuddering, mouth falling open in a soft gasp, eyes locked on his. Between the lube and her own arousal that had only grown tenfold since they finally successfully started, his fingers could glide easily in quick precise circles over her swollen clit while not faltering the pace of his thrusts. 

Rosaline’s free hand flew to the back of his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his forehead right back down against hers with a choked moan. Her other hand, still clutching his against the pillow, only tightened its grip. The tears that brimmed in her eyes took her by surprise, not having anticipated that tears could come from pleasure; yet here she was. 

“Please,” her voice sounded unfamiliar with how quivering and pathetic she sounded but that was the last thing on her mind. “I want more of you. I want all of you.”

“You have me. You can have as much of me as you want.” George replied in an easy breath. 

Rosaline squirmed and panted beneath him, desperate to be satisfied. 

George, like he so often did, spoke her right into it, whispering auditory pleasure right to her, “Come on, darling. I know you’re close. I know you want to come for me.”

“Please, please—” she cried out shakily, tightening her grip in the roots of his hair. 

“Fuck, Rose, you’re getting so fucking tight—” George groaned lowly as if they were words he had been trying to swallow back, desperately trying to keep himself going, thrusting into her at that same dizzyingly tender pace, “Come on, darling, that’s it.”

His fingers slipped over her clit far too easily, helping lure her closer and closer and starting to tighten that boiling hot coil in the pit of her stomach more and more. It was getting harder to hold back her whimpers and moans and ragged breaths yet alone the tears that blurred her vision no matter how much she was trying to keep his eye contact. Forehead to forehead, they laid entangled on his bed, joined as one, both striving to reach that perfect peak. 

“I got you. I’m right here. Come on.” George whispered right to her, “Come for me.”

The sob that broke past Rosaline’s lips the moment her orgasm washed over her startled her. Her whole body trembled with it, shuddering under him, a single tear slipping from her eye and carving its way down her cheek as she writhed and moaned and cried out his name in waves of pleasure. George held her tightly through it, his words of praise a haze in the background of her euphoria, everything so red, hot, perfect. 

He didn’t last much longer after her, as if how fucking tight she got when she came around him being far too much for him to bear. The feeling of his cock throbbing inside her had her mouth falling slack, fingers clutching onto his hair, hips rolling up against his instinctively as if to chase every second of his orgasm. George always sounded like angels singing when he came but, in that moment, the sound of his moans sounded extra good, his panted breaths falling against her cheek as he released into the condom, nestled deep inside her. 

He slowed after a second, finally coming to a stop, still tucked inside her, giving them both a second to catch their bearings. Rosaline blinked up at him, staring into his dilated blue eyes that stared back at her with so much compassion that she almost shivered. 

“Was that…are you…” he stumbled out, clearing his throat to rid the rasp of his words, “How was that?”

Rosaline couldn’t help the honest to God smile that spread across her face and she pried her hand out of his to allow it to join her other around the back of his neck, replying with an angelic, “Incredible.” 

George mirrored her smile, almost a hint of relief on his face, “Good. Good, I’m glad.”

He dipped down to kiss her again, sharing that moment of breathless euphoria together for a few seconds longer. Then, he was carefully sitting back from her arms to kneel between her legs and he carefully pulled out. 

The feeling of pulling out felt so strange, almost a bit of an ache in itself, the sudden emptiness more of an adjustment as her muscles had to ease back into their normal state. She bit her bottom lip at the feeling, lifting her head up from the pillow to glance down to look at the both of them in their aftermath. The bit of blood streaked on the condom didn’t go unnoticed but George didn’t bring any attention to it as he carefully rolled it off and then reached over to the side of the bed to wrap the soiled condom in a tissue to be disposed of. 

Rosaline watched his simple action, asking softly, “Did I bleed a lot?”

George glanced back at her as if surprised by her question. But he took another glance between her legs and let his fingers slide across her messy pussy before shaking his head casually, “Not a lot, no. Just a tad. Is it sore?”

“A bit,” she mumbled. 

He settled down beside her and she instinctively snuggled up close to him, letting him pull her into his side under his arm as he pressed a kiss to her temple. Her eyes fluttered shut, her intense high fading into a pleasant, warm lingering buzz in the comfort of his arms. 

“You’re incredible,” George whispered into her hair, leaving another kiss there before speaking again, “Can I get you anything?”

Rosaline tucked her arm around his middle as he pulled the covers up around them and she replied softly, “Not right now.”

“Just a cuddle?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay,” he breathed into her hair as he pulled her body impossibly closer.

The heat of his skin felt like home beneath his soft bed sheets, snuggled up at his side and in the protection of his strong arms. Her glasses sat slightly crooked on her face from how she was resting her head against his chest but neither made a move to adjust them, preferring the imperfectness of their perfect moment. Besides, the sudden feeling of exhaustion that was overcoming her made her feel like nothing more than jelly in his arms.

Rosaline felt inexplicably tied to him in that moment; as if they had just sealed themselves together in a sense of emotional permanence. She never wanted to leave that room, that bed…him. Nothing felt like this. Ever. 

After a moment of their peaceful silence, she spoke into the warm air of his bedroom, “Thank you.”

George’s hand gave her shoulder a squeeze, “Why are you thanking me, darling?”

She turned her face towards his, still cuddled against his chest, meeting his gaze as she explained, “For being someone I can trust enough like this…and for being patient with me through this whole journey…while I figure myself out.”

He let out a soft hum in acknowledgement and pressed another soft kiss against her temple, “You don’t have to thank me for that, my love, I should be thanking you. I should be thanking you for placing your trust in me, for bestowing upon me this absolute honour.”

She leaned up just enough to steal a kiss from his lips and then another before he was cradling her head in his hand and guiding her to rest back down against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. Her eyes fluttered closed to bask in the moment, settling into the sound of his heartbeat.

Then, she asked a question that had been prying at her for who knew how long, “Have you ever taken someone’s virginity before?” 

“No, I haven’t,” George replied honestly, simply, the weight of it hanging in the air for a moment, “You’re the first.”

“So, we’re kind of like each other's firsts…in slightly different ways.”

She could feel the way he smiled against her temple, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, darling.”

He held her against his body so firmly, grounding her in the moment and his presence, his fingers gently threading through her hair and over her shoulder as his breaths fell calmly against the crown of her head. Rosaline, despite having come down from her orgasm, could still feel her heart racing from just being held by him. She didn’t expect to feel so at peace afterwards, so calm and relaxed and content, feeling safe and sure in ways she had never quite experienced before. 

After a moment, George spoke softly into her hair, words so gentle and so honest, “I’m so happy I got to be your first.”

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[girlactionfigure]

"Two distinct patterns of antisemitism can be identified by the Jewish holidays that celebrate triumphs over them: Purim and Hanukkah. 

In the Purim version of antisemitism, exemplified by the Persian genocidal decrees in the biblical Book of Esther, the goal is openly stated and unambiguous: Kill all the Jews.

In the Hanukkah version of antisemitism, whose appearances range from the Spanish Inquisition to the Soviet regime, the goal is still to eliminate Jewish civilization. This goal could theoretically be accomplished simply by destroying Jewish civilization, while leaving the warm, de-Jewed bodies of its former practitioners intact....[The regime] isn’t antisemitic but merely requires that its Jews publically flush thousands of years of Jewish civilization down the toilet in exchange for the worthy prize of not being treated like dirt, or not being murdered."

Dara Horn, "People Love Dead Jews" 

THE ORIGINS OF THE LEFT AND LEFT-WING ANTISEMITISM

The left-right political spectrum is a rather recent phenomenon of history. In fact, prior to the late 18thcentury, there was no particular set of political viewpoints or values associated with either the “left” or the “right.” The terms came into use during the French Revolution (1789-1799); those loyal to the king were considered “right-wing,” whereas the revolutionaries were considered “left-wing.” Needless to say, antisemitism long predates these designations. 

It was in the midst of the French Revolution that France’s Jews, long subjected to statelessness and limited rights, were first emancipated. On the surface, this was a positive development. For the first time in European history, Jews were granted the opportunity to live as equals. Under one condition. 

Jews could no longer exist as a distinctethnic, cultural, and national minority and were to assimilate into French society as French citizens. Napoleon Bonaparte himself believed that in systematically stripping the Jewishness from the Jew, he could turn Jews into “good citizens.” He also claimed to do this in pursuit of a “universal liberty of conscience.” 

This, unfortunately, remains emblematic of much of the antisemitism we still see on the left today. Many left-wing antisemites may not want to physicallyeradicate Jews, but they sure work hard to eradicate the qualities that make us distinctly Jewish, oftentimes under the banner of "human rights" or "equality."

"The Jews should be denied everything as a nation, but granted everything as individuals."

French revolutionary Count Stanislas de Clermont-Tonnerre, 1789

"[It is necessary to] reduce, if not destroy, the tendency of Jewish people to practice a very great number of activities that are harmful to civilization and to public order in society in all the countries of the world. It is necessary to stop the harm by preventing it; to prevent it, it is necessary to change the Jews…Once part of their youth will take its place in our armies, they will cease to have Jewish interests and sentiments; their interests and sentiments will be French."

Napoleon Bonaparte, 1806

THE SOVIET UNION (PRE-WORLD WAR II) 

The far-left Soviet Union was hostile to non-Russian forms of nationalism that might threaten Soviet hegemony or rule. For this reason, shortly after its establishment, the regime began targeting Zionists. 

In 1918, the Soviet Communist Party established a “Jewish branch,” with the consent of Vladimir Lenin. It was named “Yevsektsiya,” meaning “Jewish Sections of the Communist Party.” The mission of the Yevsektsiya was, quite literally, the “destruction of traditional Jewish life, the Zionist movement, and Hebrew culture.”

From the outset, the Yevsektsiya began harassing Zionist Jews. Initially, the Yevsektsiya legally abolished the “kehillas,” the traditional Jewish community organizations. Sometimes, they even burned their offices down. They shut down everything from Jewish political groups to theaters to sports clubs. They raided all Ukrainian “Zionist” offices and arrested every single one of their leaders. They worked to “de-Hebraize” Yiddish by changing the spellings of all Yiddish words that came from Hebrew.

Until their dissolution in 1929, they imprisoned, tortured, and murdered thousands of Jews. According to historian of Soviet history Richard Pipes, “In time, every Jewish cultural and social organization came under assault.”

THE SOVIET UNION (POST-WORLD WAR II) 

In the immediate aftermath of World War II, the Soviet Union went through great lengths to deny the specifically antisemitic nature of the Holocaust. For example, they erected a memorial for the Babyn Yar Massacre, in which 34,000 Jews were slaughtered over the course of two days, but never mentioned its Jewish victims, instead labelling it a massacre of “the peaceful Soviet people.” 

The Soviet Union also persecuted members of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee who worked to document evidence for the Holocaust. 

As before World War II, the Soviets worked hard to suppress Jewish cultural and spiritual life, stripping many Jewish families of thousands of years’ worth of history. For example, though not officially illegal, Jews were punished for speaking or studying Hebrew or participating in religious traditions. Jews were not allowed to assimilate into Soviet society due to their ethnic background, but they were also criminalized if they tried to hang on to their ancient traditions, ultimately resulting in a catch-22. Oftentimes, Jews were imprisoned under false pretenses, with the Soviet government accusing them of “Zionist crimes.” People with Jewish last names were subject to highly restrictive university quotas or banned from performing certain jobs.

"Hitler wanted to destroy us physically. Stalin wants to do it spiritually."

Peretz Markish, Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee, before his 1949 execution

In its Tisha B’Av guide, “Jewish” Voice for Peace encourages participants to pray in Arabic or English, rather than in Hebrew, the language Jews have been praying in for three millennia, because our ancestral language, which predates the Israeli-Palestinian conflict by thousands of years, could be “deeply traumatizing for Palestinians.”

Video here. 

At a Rabbis for Ceasefire event, with prominent left-wing activists and politicians in attendance, including Rashida Tlaib, the rabbi drops her voice to a whisper during the section of Parashat Toldot that reads “to you and your descendants I have given these lands [the Land of Israel].”

Parashat Toldot was likely written sometime between the 10th and 5th centuries BCE.

Video here. 

The parts being skipped are “to you and your descendants I have given these lands [the Land of Israel].”

Parashat Toldot was likely written sometime between the 10th and 5th centuries BCE.

SOME (APPARENTLY NECESSARY) DISCLAIMERS

(1) “Hanukkah antisemitism” did not originate with the left. This is not the point I am arguing. After all, the French Revolution took place some 1,956 years after the Maccabean Revolt. 

Other prominent, earlier examples of “Hanukkah antisemitism” include the Spanish Inquisition and the forced conversions to Islam that periodically happened throughout the Muslim and Arab worlds. 

(2) If there’s anything that was made clear after the celebrations following October 7, it’s that “Purim antisemitism” very much exists on the left as well. 

(3) Yes, of course antisemitism – including “Hanukkah antisemitism” – also exists on the right. Again, I am not arguing that antisemitism only exists on one side of the political spectrum, or that it’s only dangerous on one side of the political spectrum. 

(4) Rather, the point of this post is to illustrate that “Hanukkah antisemitism” has long been rampant in left-wing, so-called progressive, and/or liberal circles. Under the guise of “equality” and “human rights,” antisemites have worked to strip us of our distinctly Jewish identities.That is not to say everyone on the left is an antisemite, either. Obviously.

For a full bibliography of my sources, please head over to my Instagram and  Patreon. 

rootsmetals

Please read the disclaimers before you argue with me in the comments about things I never said 😅 

[olderthannetfic]

People claiming that creating nsfw fanart/fanfic against a creator's wishes is "violating their boundaries" (or worse, "violating their consent") makes me SO MAD. Not just as someone that values fan creations but as a victim of actual sa.

Y'all, people claiming that creators have the right to dictate what sort of fanart/fanfic people create is the reason Anne Rice is so fucking hated. When you put your creation out into the public you are handing it over to be interpreted and critiqued and loved and derived from in any way people please. Death of the author means you, the author, are now dead. You DO NOT have the right to dictate what people do with your creation.

Sure, you're allowed on the most basic level to say "I'm not comfortable with people creating fanart/fanfic of my creations" or "I'm not comfortable with people creating nsfw fanart/fanfic of my creations" - no one can stop you. But no one is under any moral obligation to listen to you. That's the very basis of sites like AO3.

"B-b-but BOUNDARIES!!!" Y'all have no fucking idea what a boundary is. A boundary 1. refers to what people do/say TO YOU, not ABOUT YOU (or your creations) and 2. is not a decree about what others can or cannot do, but about what YOU will do in RESPONSE to them. "You can't create nsfw fanart/fanfic of my characters" is NOT a boundary. "If you send me nsfw fanart/fanfic of my characters, I will block you" is a boundary. Do y'all see the difference?

People creating and posting nsfw fanart/fanfic of your characters is NOT a violation of your consent. You are fully, 100% capable of and responsible for avoiding content that you are not comfortable with. If you see art or fic tagged with your characters and tagged nsfw and you click on it, you did not have your consent violated. Merely being aware that this content exists is not a violation of your consent. Being uncomfortable with the knowledge people drew your characters diddling is not fucking comparable to the trauma of being forced against your will to engage in sexual acts and it's deplorable to even entertain the thought of comparing the two.

--

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Amee Vanderpool at SHERO:

The Trump administration confirmed on Wednesday that it will nullify substantial advances in federal oversight of police reform for problematic police departments in Minneapolis and Louisville. The announcement of these efforts to annihilate advancements made by the Biden administration to curtail police and overhaul local law enforcement across the United States comes mere days before the fifth anniversary of the murder of George Floyd, a 46-year-old Black man who was murdered by Minneapolis police. Claiming they are “misguided,” Justice Department officials say they also plan to drop cases involving incidents of police violence against Black people that have been filed in Minneapolis and Louisville, and officials will close investigations into departments in Memphis; Phoenix; Oklahoma City; Trenton; and Mount Vernon, as well as a case against the Louisiana State Police. Following a damning report in 2023, that determined Minneapolis Police had routinely discriminated against Black and Native American people and had used deadly force without justification, the Biden Justice Department entered into an agreement calling for federal oversight of the Police Department’s efforts to address the issues. The accusations of police misconduct also reported that at least 13 other cities, including Los Angeles, Newark, and Ferguson, had substantiated allegations of widespread civil rights abuses by local police forces. That Biden-era arrangement, known as a consent decree, took two years to investigate, negotiate, and enact. Now, the Trump administration is disbanding all that work in the blink of an eye and spinning another false narrative about the lack of reasoning behind the decision. [...] Harmeet Dhillon, assistant attorney general for the Department of Justice's Civil Rights Division, continues to sell Trumpian rhetoric about abuse committed against police officers that is not only false, but it is absurd. “Overbroad police consent decrees divest local control of policing from communities where it belongs, turning that power over to unelected and unaccountable bureaucrats, often with an anti-police agenda," Dhillon said. "Today, we are ending the Biden Civil Rights Division's failed experiment of handcuffing local leaders and police departments with factually unjustified consent decrees."

With the 5-year anniversary of the police murder of George Floyd coming soon, the Trump Regime’s DOJ saw fit to close down investigations into abusive police practices in departments like Memphis, Louisville, and Minneapolis.

See Also:

AP, via HuffPost: DOJ Moves To Cancel Police Reform Settlements Reached With Minneapolis And Louisville

The Guardian: DoJ moves to cancel police reform deals with Minneapolis and Louisville

Daily Kos: Justice Department smothers Biden-era police reform deals