#Double top and double bottom patterns

[stockexperttrading]

Unlock the Secrets of Trading with Top Chart Patterns! Explore the world of chart patterns with Funded Traders Global. From understanding the basics of technical analysis to recognizing common chart patterns like head and shoulders, double tops, and flags, our blog equips you with the knowledge to enhance your trading skills. Discover advanced patterns like pennants, wedges, and harmonic patterns, and gain practical tips for effective trading. Improve your risk management, pinpoint entry and exit points, and combine chart patterns with technical indicators. Start your journey towards trading success today with Funded Traders Global!

[profiteadeveloper]

Mastering the DOUBLE BOTTOM FOREX TRADING for Maximum Gain 2023

[suppermariobroth]

Top: on the Mushroom Bridge track in Mario Kart: Double Dash, several whirlpools can be seen in the water, such as in the top right corner of the image.

Bottom left: as the water is out of bounds, the whirlpools are far away and seen at an angle, making it difficult to discern any details; in addition, they move rapidly. Looking at a still image of a whirlpool from directly above, we can see that the wave pattern actually includes many small stars, which is very difficult to see in-game.

Bottom right: extracting the textures used for the whirlpool from the files confirms this, showing the stars clearly.

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[noirandchocolate]

My Coworker’s Mom’s blanket is complete!

My squares are, from top to bottom: 4th on row 1, 2nd, 3rd, & 4th on row 2, 1st & 2nd on row 4, and 1st & 2nd on row 5. All the rest are CMom’s. When choosing the squares I’d do, I picked a mix of graphic ones (the trees), cables, openwork/lace and textured patterns, to go with the ones CMom made.

Once all my squares were done, I made sure all 20 had crocheted borders with the same number of stitches per side and then crocheted them all together. Finally, I put on one of my favorite blanket borders: one wrong-side row of half-double crochet (so the ‘extra’ bar of the stitches ends up on the right-side), and one right-side row of {backward single crochet+chain two+skip one} repeated. I love borders with backward crochet stitches; I think they make things look so ‘finished’ on the edges.

So, hopefully there will be a day soon when Coworker and I are at the office at the same time (rare) so I can show her these photos and set up when I can give this to her. <3 I really enjoyed completing her Mom’s final creation and I hope she’ll think I did it justice!

Thanks to everybody on my original post about this who encouraged me and sent kind messages. I didn’t expect this to attract attention like it has and I’ve had fun reading other people’s similar stories. As I said in the reblog chains on that post, crafting really brings people together! So hey, all you knitters, crocheters, and other assorted fiber-craft creators—hope you’re having a great time with your projects!

[guptalok]

Discover the power of double top and double bottom patterns, click the link to unlock the secrets!

[tysonrooney06]

How To Commerce The Inverse Head-and-shoulders Sample

With the investor loosing interest in investing in shares, the volume drops and the inventory worth starts to decline. The heart trough is the deepest and the opposite two are of roughly the same depth. An inverted Head and shoulders pattern occurs when the price of a security drops marking the bearish pattern and reaches the bottom level. Then the bullish development kicks back in and pushes the worth upwards.

In this case, the inventory's price reaches three consecutive lows, separated by momentary rallies.

This breakdown ought to be convincing, occurring on robust volume and coinciding with momentum indicators pointing towards sturdy bearish momentum.

If the value advance preceding the top and shoulders top is not long, the following worth fall after its completion may be small as nicely.

All expressions of opinion are subject to vary without discover in response to shifting market circumstances.

Some progress on the US debt ceiling talks is lifting the general market mood. The Relative Strength Index indicator turned bearish, warranting that additional downside is expected, whereas the 3-day Rate of Change , continues to slide beneath its neutral level. Futures and futures choices buying and selling includes substantial risk and isn't appropriate for all investors. Please read theRisk Disclosure Statementprior to buying and selling futures merchandise.

Figuring Out The Pinnacle And Shoulders Trading Pattern

The neckline can additionally be an essential part of the pinnacle and shoulders sample as it is the stage of resistance that merchants use in order to set up the world vary to put orders. So, to find the neckline, first, find the left shoulder, head, and proper shoulder. Then connect the low factors after the left shoulder with the low after the head, which creates the neckline.

It can be difficult for newbies to determine the altering developments.

Is Your Risk/reward Enough?

Chart patterns Understand the method to learn the charts like a professional trader. Live streams Tune into day by day live streams with expert merchants and transform your buying and selling abilities. A catalyst is something that can move traders or buyers to buy or promote a stock. That’s as a outcome of you must use this sample to discover out a significant change in development. Ascending triangle pattern need a lot of traders to see the sample, so they act accordingly and the price sample plays out.

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Video Clips of Sweethearts Pregnancy - Second Trimester

First Trimester Video Clips

♡ ‘big momma don’t play’ - video length: 9 seconds

Chris’ face fills the frame, he had goofy smile plaster on his face as he pops another french fry in his mouth. He double taps his phone screen, turning the camera around to reveal a very pregnant Sweetheart biting down on a cheeseburger. His soft chuckle can be heard behind the camera as Sweetheart looks up, crunching her eyebrows as she makes eye contact with the bright flash right before the clip ends. He sends it to his snap group, captioning it; ‘big momma don’t play’

♡ ‘so fucking cool’ - video length: 27 seconds

Sweethearts baby bump takes over the screen, Chris’ large hand placed gently over the top of her stomach. He presses down on her belly, “c’mon,” his raspy voice echos out of frame, “don’t be camera shy kid,” he coos, his chest vibrating against Sweethearts thigh as he speaks. She lets out a soft giggle, her belly jump with each breath she lets out. Chris sucks his teeth, “he’s not gonna do it — little asshole.” His comment earns another giggle from Sweetheart before baby Bean presses his foot against the barrier of her stomach in one swift movement. Sweetheart gasps, Chris’ eyes widening, his hands trembling as a bright smile makes its way onto his lips. He focuses in on her belly, capturing another sharp kick from their unborn baby. It was a cute video to send to his friends and family. It was one of the few times the two had felt their baby kick.

♡ 'yes daddy' - video length: 15 seconds

Steady clicks of Chris computer mouse fill the, otherwise, silent bedroom, Sweetheart cuddles up with her body pillow on his bed, her phone pointed towards him as she holds down the record button. Chris looks over his shoulder for split second, speaking on cue, "y'wanna go get my mini pizzas from the microwave, baby? I made some extra for you," Sweetheart knew he wouldn't be able to pull himself away from his Fortnite session if he tried, especially considering the fact that the microwave alarm sounded minutes ago. Her pregnancy hormones were like a rollercoaster, already planted the idea in her head before she started recording, "yes daddy," she coos sweetly. The clip shows Chris' head snapping so fast it looks like it could twist around and roll right off his shoulders. Sweetheart lets out a giggle before ending the video and exiting the room to retrieve the mini pizzas.

♡ 'Its a boy!! 💙💙👶🏻' - video length: 42 seconds

Nick points his phone towards Chris and Sweetheart, focusing the camera on the expecting couple who stood at the end of the long dining table Family and friends filling each seat around the table, giving the pair their full attention. Sweetheart has her bottom lip pinned between her teeth, chewing on it nervously as Chris wraps an arm around her waist, lowering her head to whisper something in her ear. A small, toothless smile pulls at Sweethearts lips as Chris smiles at her, pressing a light kiss to her temple. Matt can be seen at the edge of the frame, "they're so cute, it makes me wanna puke. Nick nudges him with his elbow, making the camera fall out of focus and zoom in on Jimmy's face, "I'm recording, y'idiot." Nick quickly pans the camera back to Sweetheart and Chris, letting out a snort in the process at his fuck up, don't worry — I'll edit that out." Thankful he got it together before the group starts counting down in unison, "three ... two ... one!!"

Their heads turned away and their eyes clamped shut as they press their wine glasses down into the neatly decorated cake that Mary Lou ordered specifically for the gender reveal. They crowd cheers as Chris and Sweetheart turn to look at the cake, lifting their wine glasses at the same time to reveal a white and blue striped pattern. Sweetheart slaps a hand over her mouth, taking a step back in shock as the room combusts into a symphony of cheers. The clip catches Chris dropping his wine glass, thrusting a fist into the air, and shouting, "I fucking knew it! I'm having a son!" He wraps an around Sweetheart once again, pulling her in for a bear hug, rocking their bodies from side to side before Nick ends the video.

♡ 'half way done🥹🤰🏻' - video length: 18 seconds

Sweetheart stand in front of the bathroom mirror, phone in hand as she shows off the front view of her growing bump. Chris towering over her from behind, his hands resting on her waist and his chin resting on top her head. He loved the glow that pregnancy induced on her, it was like she swam in the fountain of youth the way she woke up glowing every morning. Chris smooths a hand over her bump and Sweetheart turns to flaunt her bumps side profile, a bright smile etched across Chris' face as he admires her in the mirror.

♡ 'she thinks I'm funny 🥰' - Video Length: 6 seconds

The clips starts out black, Sweetheart voice sounding through the screen, "s'not funny — Chris stop!" You can hear her trying to contain her laughs as Chris pulls the camera back, zooming in on the grey leggings she wore, a dark wet stop stained between her legs and down the inside of her thighs. Chris wheezes from behind the camera, completely hysterical over Sweetheart peeing her pants right in front of him. In her defense, her son had been pushing her bladder a lot more the past week, and Chris couldn't set up a baby car seat if his life depended on it.

♡ ‘I feel so bad’ - video length: 8 seconds

Sweetheart sits on the floor of the kitchen; tears stain her cheeks as she sobs over the last bowl of Mary Lou's chili she so clumsily spilled. Her belly bump getting in the way, making her stumble and lose her balance, ending with her collapsing on the floor in tears over the last bowl of sacred beans. Chris clears his throat, "its okay, babe. We can get some more," he attempts to soothe her, lowkey trying to hold back the laughter in his voice because he knew it'd send her into a rage. They both knew it was silly for her to be bawling her eyes out over a lost bowl of soup, but her pregnancy hormones had her in a chokehold lately. Sweetheart looks up at him, her eyes puffy from crying, "it's not the same, Chris!" she whines before dropping her hands to her lap, letting out sobs as she looks back down at the mess in front of her

♡ 'pregnancy comes with perks 😋' - Video Length: 4 Seconds

Sweetheart is reclined back in the corner of the sectional, a box of Mcdonald's chicken nuggets in her lap. Her feet rest on Chris' thighs, his hands gently massaging circles into the bottoms of her swollen pads. She dips a nugget in the opened sweet n sour cup that sits in the cardboard box before zooming in on her babydaddy, Chris looks over to her and giving her a cheesy koolaid smile as she ends the clip.

♡ 'and you guys wonder why she's pregnant' - Video Length: 17 Seconds

Matt sits at the kitchen island, a bag of Doritos and a pink lemonade placed halfway out of frame as he points the camera to the living room; showing Sweetheart sitting on Chris' lap as they share a intimate, steamy kiss. His hand pressed to the back of her neck to keep her close while her hands ball fists into his shirt. Matt double taps the camera, revealing his signature mean mug before ending the clip and sending it to his close circle - including the Chris and Sweetheart.

♡ 'nesting or whatever the pregnant ladies call it 💪🏻' - Video Length: 12 Seconds

Chris pans the camera to Sweetheart; laundry baskets boxing her in as she folds each piece of baby clothing. A gasp leaves her lips, "awee, Chris!" she coos, holding up a small onesie, "look at his one!" She lips curling into a sympathetic frown at how adorable the newborn sized onesie was.

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note - Happy Friday 🥳 We ready for today's video?!! Sorry I've been a bit inactive this last week. I'm currently dealing with the flu and my period at the same time, so I feel like death tbh. I figured I'd do video clips again since the last one did so good <3 Emotional support should be out soon, sorry for the delay 😭

Masterlist

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist

Taglist (comment to be added)

Send me asks and suggestions about babydaddy!Chris & sweetheart <3

Check out my Pinterest for their board 😋

[signode-blog]

Three Effective Trading Strategies Using M and W Patterns

Let us have look at how we use the M and W patterns (also referred to as Double Top & Double Bottom Patterns) in trading. Here are some Trading Strategies. 1. Double Top (M Pattern) Strategy Description: The Double Top, or M pattern, is a bearish reversal pattern that forms after an uptrend. It consists of two peaks at roughly the same level, with a trough in between. This pattern indicates…

[nouearth]

“'TILL WE SEE STARS”

zane phillips, nico greetham, drew starkey, taylor zakhar perez, tom holland, and oliver stark x male reader.

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓— fic [ 14.7k ] 〳 part one

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒—male reader〳make sure to read part one!〳established relationship 〳 collage!au 〳jealous!zane 〳 sexual content: everyone is a top, bottom!reader, cum dumpster!reader, double penetration, gang bang, rough!sex, kissing, spitting, breeding, cumplay, bukkake, blowjobs, handjobs, praising, body worshipping, lots and lots of filthy sex!

You didn’t notice right away.

In your defense, Zane had always been exceptionally distracting, and that would only become harder to refute since you’d been something to him.

Rephrase that—someone.

Someone special, someone of importance, someone that meant something.

You’ve had doubts. Who wouldn’t when even your own friends looked at you with such bewilderment upon introducing him to the small group. Nerds and Jocks don’t mix; a childish verity you and your friends held with high regard since being hit in the face with a ball happened one too many times to brush those instances off as mere coincidences. That, and your snickering high school classmates would since provide you a whole new perspective on that matter.

But you went on to prove your friends wrong, prove that your doubts were meager tricks that only persisted to keep you from exploring out of your comfort zone—from living life to its fullest possibilities. The house that had once shielded you from all cruelties the world and its inhabitants brought with them began to crumble from its residence on a clifftop. Parts that made up the foundation sacrificed themselves in pursuit to bring you home. Wood, stone, red bricks; they catapulted into the ocean, swam on the surface, floated for air, and dived in the deep sea. Farther and farther, they searched for you, hopeful for any signs of life that signaled for your immediate rescue.

Instead, what they found was baffling.

It was you, but it wasn’t you at the same time. Something changed—this growing assurance in your disposition, holding onto a man, large and more than capable to protect, a threat to the house that had kept you safe since birth.

Betrayal, what happened to my son? My boy? My sweet boy?

You could hear the rage in their authoritative voice, but you’ve grown to realize their awful cadence had only been a tactic for you to come back—come back to them—to scare you into being the perfect boy they’ve raised you to be.

Every kiss from the man ignited a fire within you. He forged you with strength, with fortification, with affection—and you uttered a strong defiance, then watched the foundation disintegrate before your very eyes, piece by piece.

***

There was always so much care in Zane’s palms, yet he’d proven you to be exceptionally attentive when he was upset. Like he was trying to persuade you from deviating too far into his worries.

It was embarrassing to admit how long it took for you to piece it altogether—why he was often in a mood, or why he was adamant in making you stay the night at his apartment. You never pondered about it for too long as it never amounted to much. All it took was a night in his bed, watching his favorite shows, kissing and fondling to take his mind off of what was festering inside, and everything returned back to normal. A stressful day at work or practice, you’d reckon as you watched him sleep on your chest, his gentle snores beckoning you to your slumber.

But you began noticing a pattern. It happened every Thursday and Friday. You’d come to his place after tutoring, and he would greet you by the entrance with the most fulfilling kiss. Grappled by his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest, and your lips raptured by his.

“Well, greetings to you too! I brought dinner.”

“That can wait… I missed you,” he would say before swooping you off your feet and fleeing with you into his bedroom.

At the least provocation, he’d proven all too willing to lick into your mouth and shove his greedy hands beneath your shirt. It was a growing tendency that you weren’t inclined to draw to a close because frankly—there was nothing to complain about, other than the cold takeout.

As observant as you usually were, you blamed yourself for not puzzling Zane’s growing possessiveness to your tutoring sooner.

Or maybe you were turning a blind eye, because you anticipated the magnificent nights he’d bestow on you. On those nights, Zane was especially keen to make you take all of him—every inch, every seed, every feeling.

“Swallow it all. I don’t want to see a drop left, baby.” “M-mmfngh—“

All in all, it was beginning to become clear that those days were bothering him. You could feel the tension in the air, the heaviness in your gut as Zane swelled inside of you for the second time of the night, two days in a row.

It was beyond the fact that you tutored—he was fine with that.

It was who you were tutoring.

On Thursdays, you could feel his delusional need to investigate who’d been in your mouth. Tom? Oliver? Taylor? He would suckle on your tongue until you reeled back for a breath, and even then, he wouldn’t stop licking into your mouth.

On Fridays, his hands wouldn’t leave your body. They covertly searched high and low, back to front, squeezing, pulling, roaming, pushing, for any marks, for any evidence of Nico’s presence, of Drew’s marks—but the only blemishes were Zane’s from the day before. A love bite to your neck, and another one to the left of your hip bone.

No one.

You both knew it was the truth—your loyalty to him, but Zane was a madman who was being fed with delusions beyond your control, and in turn, it gifted you the most passionate lover only you could’ve fantasized in novels.

“Oh, g-god. Right there. Don’t go faster, Zane. Don’t slow down. Just like that—“ “Yeah? You like my cock wrecking your pretty hole? Just. Like. That?”

***

“Would it make you feel better if you were with me?” you mentioned out of the blue, the show you two had been watching finally rolled the credits.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Zane averted his gaze toward you, blindly reaching for the remote and switching the TV off. Then, he pulled you closer into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. His nose buzzed with delight at the scent of your shampoo.

“Well…” he watched you ponder—your gaze avoidant and wandering unlike the abrupt tension he felt in your body. He opened his arm out of concern, allowing you to properly gather yourself with the newfound space. You sat up and resumed explaining carefully, “I know you don’t like it when I’m… with your friends—alone. Embarrassingly enough, it just hit me—and… well, you seem off these days. And I think it’s because of that.”

It was like being caught in a lie. Not one of those major ones that Zane knew he would commit from beginning to end, but a white lie—a vaulted truth to spare your feelings, even if it meant that it was festering and poisoning him on the inside.

It was an unspoken promise. A natural response. A firm conviction that he should bear your troubles and worries in solitude.

After all, he was your boyfriend, your protector.

“What? Babe—no, what? Have I been acting different? I don’t know. I guess work’s gotten busier, so I guess that could explain…” He was teetering on the edge of revelation or secrecy, stammering until he was one step away from falling.

Zane was never a great liar.

“Come on. You can be honest. Is it because you don’t trust me? Because we study at the library and—“

“No, I absolutely trust you. Don’t say that.”

“I mean, it’s probably weird for me to be hanging out with them—in a way. It makes sense that you’d want to be there, so I get it if you feel hurt or disappointed or—“

“Babe, it’s not—“

“They’re your friends, not mine. I mean, I don’t think they see me as a friend anyway? I’m their tutor, and that’s how it should be…”

“(M/N), wait a second—“

Your hands were theatrical. Grandiose. If you had a symphony playing with you, they’d be performing with fervor, sweating until the grasp on their instruments had slipped at the nearing crescendo, and the audience would gasp altogether to fill the void of abrupt silence.

“I promise, Zane. All I do is give them assignments, like I did with you—well, not like I did with you. We were a little different, weren’t we… but with them? I-it’s like how I tutor everyone else and…!“

You suddenly stood up from the couch, clearly exasperated by the lack of words that could properly support your claims.

“Hey, hey…” he quelled you with a gentle tug to your hand, silently urging you back to his side with a consoling grin. You huffed, sucking in what he could presume to be more self-destructing words, and dramatically let the tension on your shoulders push your body onto his lap.

It wasn’t the right moment to notice, but would you kill him if he felt more inclined to annoy you in the future if this was how charming you always looked? The answer would probably be no. You had a tendency to forgive—a little too easily.

“Then what’s wrong? Is it my fault? Over-cooked your chicken? Ate your protein bar without asking? Got a stain on your hoodie, but I think I washed it out…?” Frowning, you stared back up at him through your eyelashes, chin sunken to your chest, and completely hopeless.

For a moment, he was speechless. It always took one glance from you for Zane to lose his train of thought. Even when you felt all kinds of emotions, there was still that glint in your eyes that never failed to make his heart feel like it was about to burst.

“Kinda is your fault. I mean, if you hadn’t been born with that handsome face of yours, or been blessed with brains and kindness, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Be serious!” Zane felt your body tense up again. You were about to pull yourself off his lap before he rested a hand to your chest and gently pushed you back. “So, there is a problem…”

“It’s my problem, (M/N),” he began soothing your chest in small circles. The cotton soft in his palm before it was inevitably delighted with the firmness of your chest when he slipped a hand under your shirt, resuming his caress.

“I might not have a lot of experience in dating, but I’ve watched a lot of films to know that partners help each other when either one of them have a problem.”

Guilt was quickly catching up to him. Zane could feel its presence looming over his head. Like smog, heavy and thick, and even if it had waned into thin air—completely obliterated to the back of his mind—Zane was confident he would be suffering from the ramifications of it in the future.

“God… what am I going to do with you,” he dipped forward and buried his head into your body, using your shirt to muffle his conflicted groans.

It was those eyes of yours again. He couldn’t bear to face you with the secrets he’d been withholding, but he was already in this predicament. Ignoring it, even after being called out on his behavior, would just make things worse than if he would just tell you the truth.

He waited for seconds. Then seconds turned into minutes. Then those remaining minutes were spent sighing at the softest strokes you brushed through his hair, to occupy the silence, or to break the tension between you two. Either way, his heart felt heavier despite your comforting attempts.

With a mutter, Zane turned his head towards you and looked truthfully into your eyes, “Yeah, I’m jealous.”

You immediately perked up to join him at his side again, taking his hand into yours, “Zane, I promise—nothing happens…”

“No, I know, (M/N). I trust you. I mean, what can I say? I miss you. Our schedule isn’t aligning like I thought it would, and it feels like I’m seeing you less since you’ve taken Tom, Drew, Taylor… all of them for tutoring.”

“I can cut back? Maybe arrange the meetings to fit your schedule, and that way we can—“

“No, absolutely not. I’m not going to be that type of boyfriend.”

“Well, I can’t just sit here and watch you suffer.” Zane watched you play with his fingers, clamping your hand to his, then unclasping as his thoughts prolonged another silence.

“You have no idea, (M/N). I… God, it’s all fucked up.” He rubbed his face to comfort himself, groaning into his palms before taking your hands into his again.

Nothing calmed him more than simply holding you.

“What? It’s just about us not spending enough time together, right? Maybe I’m too optimistic, but that seems like something that can be easily resolved…”

“No—I mean, yes. That’s the problem, but it isn’t the main problem…”

“Then… what is?”

From the corner of his eye, he watched you physically brace yourself, straightening your posture like the suspense had been literally killing you and your insides. You took one deep exhale, preparing yourself for the worst while Zane fished for his phone, and scrolled through his messages.

He began explaining.

Taking tutoring lessons was the last thing on the team’s mind. For Zane and Nico, it was a simple affair. Their grades were dropping like flies, and their coach didn’t like the sight of that, or the consequences that would follow. If they didn’t take their grades seriously, how could Coach trust them to lead the team? How can they lead the team with discipline—if they severely lacked it themselves? Zane was warned of this predicament for multiple semesters, and it was only recently when he began taking it seriously.

He’d never received a letter from his coach before, and as laughably traditional as it was, he’ll forever remember the sinking feeling in his chest when he read the last paragraph of his coach’s handwriting:

Fix your grades by the end of the semester, or you’re out. No more second chances. You’re great, but not that great for me to put your future in jeopardy. Sorry, I should’ve been harder on you.

Without much arguing, he did as he was told. Week by week, month by month, Zane and Nico’s grades improved tremendously, and the threat of being kicked off the wrestling team was delayed for another semester. However, as much as the guys were impressed by their success, Zane couldn’t owe the credit to solely himself. You were a major part of his triumphant journey, and the team would since become greatly fond of you and your saving contributions to the group.

Maybe it was inspiring to watch Zane and Nico dig themselves out of a rut, an underdog story that everyone loved rooting for in the movies. Or maybe it was some kind of unspoken brotherhood, where if one was struggling, then the other would join them in their agony to establish some type of rapport. Because soon after, Zane’s teammates found themselves in an awfully similar situation to him and solicited your service.

But Zane knew his teammates.

Zane knew that this decision was completely out of left field. Taylor, Tom, Drew, Oliver; it was strange to see all of them suddenly feel the need to seek out a tutor—specifically you out of all the available people—to help them with their studies.

It was odd to listen to them complain that their grades had been dropping, apparently lower and lower with every passing week.

And again, Zane knew his teammates.

He spent every waking second with them since they’d met each other as freshmen; aligned every course with the guys so he’d come into class knowing at least one person; visited each other’s house on semester breaks because why the hell not—it was on the drive home. For god’s sake, all of their parents knew the team by government name, siblings if they had any, and even their own aspirations in life.

They were teammates, but they were also best friends.

So, Zane had every right to call this entire arrangement as bullshit.

They weren’t struggling with their grades. Tom and Taylor were honor students. Oliver was a teaching assistant. Drew was interning for a marketing firm that made Zane’s eyes hurt when he snooped through Drew’s emails, and looked at the qualifications for the rather imposing position.

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

They were fucking with him.

Or to better clarify—trying to fuck with you.

Trying to fuck you.

It was Zane’s fault. He wasn’t clear that he was actually serious about his relationship with you, and that unlike his previous relations, there was no sharing with the team. All hands were off—should be off—and the only ones you’d be holding were Zane’s.

No.

That didn’t sound right.

It was their fault. It had to be their fault. They were the ones talking about you like they had never seen a pretty boy in their life, like they had never seen a man sharing this dreadful place we call Earth. A man with those pretty eyes, smiling with that pretty mouth, frowning with those pretty cheeks, typing with those pretty hands—the team would practically brand you as theirs with every session they’d return from studying with you, and they boasted about it all to Zane’s face.

Maybe it was his fault after all.

Zane loved bragging about you. It wasn’t something he often did with his previous partners, but something about you changed him. Zane loved showing your selfies off to his friends. One day he’d marvel how soft your lips were, the next he’d go on a tangent about what an incredibly kind person you were for finding someone’s lost dog. It was all arbitrary. As long as it was framed around you, the topics bounced from your looks to your body to your personality, and to his surprise, his friends would chime in too.

Increasingly more, as they would get to know you following every meeting.

The worst part was that Zane allowed it to happen and found himself encouraging this behavior he was scrutinizing. The group chat was complete evidence of his participation, and with every message, he could physically feel the jury slipping out of his favor.

Drew: I shouldn’t have doubted you, Zane. There’s something about your boy’s eyes…

Tom: Oh god. Does he always look at you like that, Zane? I don’t know how you can handle it. I have to physically hold my crotch to keep myself from coming in my pants.

Taylor: Can we talk about his lips, though? They’re so plump. I couldn’t help but stare at them. He does that cute thing where he chews on his lip when he’s grading.

Oliver: I wonder what he does when his mouth is filled. Zane? Care to give us a hint, please? Or shall we give him a visit and demo for ourselves…?

Zane: Hm, I’ll just say that… (M/N)’s learning very quickly on how to breathe through his nose and relax his throat. Though, that doesn’t stop the noises from coming out of his mouth.

Nico: Always had a thing for nerds… He suck you off with his glasses on or no?

Zane: On.

Drew: Oh, c’mon…

Taylor: Shit. I’m getting hard.

Tom: Fuck. Me too.

Nico: Lucky bastard… It should’ve been me!

Oliver: Never mind. This is so much better than what I could’ve imagined.

Zane laid it all out onto the table for you. His phone was a bar of gold in your hand as you scrolled and read through the messages pertaining you between him and his friends. The more recent the texts were, the more explicit and brazen.

Taylor talked about a dream that he had of you, where you allowed him to kiss you wherever he pleased if he got a question right. This was as innocent it would get. His hand would be shoved into your pants while he would kiss at your neck, licking into your whimpers.

Tom texted about the random hard-ons he’d sport when he was with you. Something as simple as watching you lick your lips was enough to get him off for the night.

Drew daydreamed about you giving him a hand job in the library. The rush of being nearly caught, and the flood of embarrassment blooming on your neck and face resulted him coming within your fist. You’d hover your free hand beneath his cock, to catch the flood of cum, because you were a kind person who didn’t want to make a public mess. And because you were such a kind person, you’d slurp his cum off your palm, right then and there, before Drew’s very eyes.

Nico was the most yearning. Perhaps it was because he always played second fiddle to Zane’s leadership, and that reflected onto his fantasies, but he missed hearing your praises. Praises that consisted of how good he was at solving this problem; how proud you were when he went out of his way to do more problems than what was assigned to him; how nice he felt when he pushed his warm cock inside of you for the first time. You’d overwhelm him with so many compliments, so many kind words, that it wouldn’t take much for him to come inside of you.

Oliver was a brazen man. He spoke without thought, without a filter, and if it came to Zane’s decision, he would want to publish a book full of Oliver’s lewd fantasies about you. He wanted to fuck you. Point blank period. It wasn’t up for debate. He would make you take him in the car if he could. Bent over the backseat, while he pounded into you out in the parking lot, or maybe in the woods if you preferred seclusion. And when he was done with you, he’d leave you there dripping, inhaling another smoke to work up another appetite, as if the image of his cum leaking out of you and down your legs hadn’t strung up his cock like a puppet with every passing second.

“It’s a lot, I know,” Zane’s voice broke you from the spell that was his friends’ fantasies. You blinked rapidly to ward off the explicit images festering. He was reading them with you, the illusions silently feeding you and him simultaneously. “Listen, if you want to call it quits, I understand. But I just—I love… seeing them talk about you like that. It makes me… so proud. Powerful—knowing that they can’t ever lay their hands on you, as long as I’m in the picture.”

“But… you said you were jealous? I don’t understand—” You fidgeted uncomfortably against him. Zane took no mind to it, especially since you seem to be taking the information better than he’d thought, but your constant squirming was beginning to be a cause of concern. He blindly opened his arm for you, allowing you to snuggle into his side.

“Yeah, well… I guess riling your friends up and feeding into their fantasies has some consequences. I like it when they talk about you to me, but… I don’t know, I guess I imagine what they would do to you if you were alone with them and it makes me worried, yet aroused? It’s… confusing, I know. I don’t get it either—Babe, are you okay? You keep moving.“

“No, continue—it’s just—“ you groaned, pressing closer to his side and crossing your legs. “Is that why you’ve been extra affectionate? I mean, you always have been, but I swear, I think we have sex almost every day—or is that normal? Not that I don’t love it. I don’t want you to get tired of me or something.”

“First off, never going to happen. I could never get tired of you. And… it might be normal depending on who you’re asking… Might be our new normal, if I’m being honest. I can’t help that you’re so irresistible—okay, what’s going on—” For a couple more seconds, Zane endured you fiddling with the blanket on your lap before suddenly tugging it off and freeing you of your agony, or whatever was the reason of your constant writhing.

He glanced down at your lap, and your reflex was quick to hide it—whatever was near your pelvis. It was hard seeing you in the dark with the TV and his phone switched off. The moonlight filtered through the blinds on his windows, but it was only enough to highlight parts of your face, not enough to illuminate the entire living room.

Without a warning, Zane reached in between your thighs and frisked whatever that had come into contact with his palm. He raised an eyebrow at the sudden hitch of your breath, feeling nothing but the leather of the couch in his palm—until he moved it higher, toward your lack of an attempt at shielding, and pushed your hand aside.

“Oh,” it didn’t take long to guess what was in the palm of his hand. He could trace the shape of it in his sleep if he was asked to. Write the exact measurements as he recalled numerous nights with you if he was quizzed on it, even if majority of his calculations relied on his grip.

Zane knew you very well, and he especially knew what he was squeezing—gently kneading until those familiar sounds poured out of you like freshly squeezed orange juice.

Ah, there it was.

It was his boy’s cock.

“Don’t get mad—“ you warned, pausing Zane’s kneads with a gentle grasp, but he persisted, only challenging the tightness in your shorts in the end.

“Why would I be mad? You’re not mad?” his voice traveled ticklishly to your ear. He’d pulled you closer, whispering while his hand was all synonyms of tantalizing.

“Is it wrong to say that I’m not? Is this was what you felt like…? I’m confused and horny, and it’s all a mess, Zane…” you groaned when his hand into the leg opening, eagerly reaching for your stiff arousal.

“God, sorry—let’s just… talk about this later. Fuck, come on.”

“Y-yeah, good idea.”

***

“They never heard yours.”

It was cool and lulling—the baby wipe Zane was cleaning you down with. Just when you thought Zane couldn’t have gotten more attractive, the concentrated look on his face while he wiped the sweat and sticky residue off your torso made your flaccid cock twitch, his biceps bulging like they were still strenuous from holding you against the wall a few minutes prior.

Zane raised a curious brow at your vagueness and your renewed arousal altogether before chucking the wipes in a bin and tucking himself to your side. “What do you mean?”

At the advance of his arms around your waist, you turned in your position to face him, pulling him close by the hips. “Your fantasy. They all told you about theirs, but you never did. Just makes me curious… on what yours is?”

Zane pondered, his thumb pondering with him as it chased after an internal beat, a rhythm over your lower back. In the meantime, you surveyed his face, like you always did post-sex. His moles were attractive, his eyebrows and lips deliciously full, and his eyes—beautiful windows to his beautiful soul.

You were the luckiest man on earth.

“You can’t judge me, all right?”

He jolted you back from your studying, an uncertain air emanating from his disposition.

You took his cheek in your hand and squeezed him with assertion. “I would never!”

Your constant kneading made him loosen up. He exhaled deep, looking dubious, but compiled trust into your eyes in the end—because it was just a fantasy, right?

One.

BIg.

Fucking.

Dream.

Finally, Zane confessed.

“Gangbang…”

“Oh…!”

***

Zane didn’t know what to expect. He had to admit that you looked uneasy when he brought up the topic of having a safe word. As basic as it was, the traffic light system was ideal as vanilla as it was, especially for something as daunting as someone’s first gangbang.

Plus, you were getting a little too creative with the safe words.

“What about… peanut butter cup..?” “Eh… think that’s a little too long, babe.” “Ghost!” “You might freak Tom out. He apparently had an ‘apparition’ back at his grandma’s house.” “Sheep?” “Sounds like ‘shit,’ which can be misconstrued as “shit, keep fucking me!"” “Hm… pickle?” “Gross! You know I hate pickles!” “You don’t eat words, Zane!”

As hopeful and convincing Zane could be, the last thing he would’ve thought was you agreeing to this—without much hesitation too, might he add.

“Can you move okay?” Zane stepped aside for you to walk from one end of his bedroom to the other. It wasn’t much distance, but it wasn’t like you needed an ample amount of space to begin with.

You took the open floor to demonstrate your ability to walk. It seemed simple enough. You did it every day. One foot after the other, step by step, leisurely and calmly and—

“Oh—“ you stiffened after the first step and froze in place. One leg methodically moved back and forth to gauge the restrictive mobility. “It feels a little… tight?”

“We can go a size smaller, but it should be a little uncomfortable. Plus, you’re not going to be walking much? Hopefully…” Zane calmly reasoned, maneuvering you like a mannequin. His hand was searching high and low for any physical indications that a butt plug was lodged inside of you—pressing when the flange toy protruded a centimeter more than he had liked.

Your breath hitched and then you shook your head, deciding the size was adequate adequate enough, and resumed walking normally. One couldn’t have noticed any oddities, as long as they ignored the rigidness of your posture.

The feeling came out of the blue—you wanted to impress them. After all, you were the star of the night. Zane’s confession had been simmering in your thoughts for a few days, especially one comment when he described how powerful he felt knowing his friends wanted you, but couldn’t have you.

You wanted to make Zane proud. If the humblest of all brags turned his friends into complete brutes, you couldn’t imagine how they would act when they all have had a turn to explore your body inside and out, and never again. Dogs. Monsters. Yet they’d worship every sovereign step that Zane would take like they were indebted to his graciousness, like they were his men of labor, all for one more night with you again.

You wanted more than to make Zane proud. You wanted to make him feel like a king.

Three knocks at the door, and the long-awaited fantasy was a door away from becoming a reality. You tailed stiffly after Zane, the kiss he quickly granted you before jogging to the entrance like a spell to your pursuit—like a hex to the tension Zane knew all-so-well.

Zane looked back once more, a nod of assurance padded by a bright smile, and you exhaled out the tightness in your chest.

Let the party begin.

***

“Let’s make it… easier for you, babe. Warm you up instead of abruptly starting?”

“Yeah—that sounds fine to me.”

“You’ll spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on can initiate the first step. No more than a minute. Then, you’ll spin the bottle again—second person goes, so-on and so-on. Sound good? More organized that way, right? And you can get a feel of everyone’s… vibes without it being overwhelming. Fellas? Any objections?”

“Sounds good to me, Zane.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeap.”

“Mm-hm.”

“No complaints here.”

The slower the bottle spun, the faster your heart beat. Your eyes moved from one man to the next, as if you were the empty beer bottle itself. The group formed a circle in the middle of the living room, small but enough to accommodate for seven men: You, Zane, Taylor, Oliver, Nico, Tom, and Drew; in that order of the circumference. Other than the guys catching up with you—small talk about your tutoring, their assignments, dinner, new dogs, and whatnot—conversations were kept to a minimum.

All seven of you knew why you were here altogether, and they weren’t keen on drawing it out for any longer.

“You guys just came back from the gym?” Zane asked after taking a sip of his beer. You reached for his bottle, feeling parched, and he passed it to you with a composing grin, lingering to watch your expression sour as the bubbles tickled your throat.

“Yeah—was going to hit the showers, but then we would’ve been late,” Taylor explained, and the rest of the guys nodded in between sips of their beers, comically attentive to the slowing bottle. You took a silent whiff of the heavy musk radiating off of the five men; your dick twitched.

“Oh shit, who’s it gonna be?! First stud of the night!” Tom bowed his body forward and began drumming the floor in faux suspense. You laughed and joined in on the increasing drum rolls, the others including yourself finding his anticipation infectious as laughter spread amongst the group like a virus—the seven pairs of hands drumming on the floor altogether being part of the symptom.

There was nothing to be worried about, was there?

This was going to be fun.

A blast.

A bang.

The bottle slowed, passing pairs of bare feet in its rotation. Multiple postures straightened as if they could compel gravity to direct the bottle towards them, but then Drew’s slumped when it passed him, then Taylor’s, and a domino effect of lost hope was rippled—all except for one.

A chorus of oohs broke out when it stopped on Nico—Zane’s right-hand man. It must’ve been an inside joke between all six of them because Oliver made a comment about how Nico was finally having his moment, and they all erupted into another fit of laughter, cutting the tension in the air one chuckle at a time.

“You’re up!” Zane beckoned with a nod. You took another glance at him, nothing of concern, but rather to alleviate his own worries by the way he suddenly gathered his hold on your hand, and then pecked him on the lips and cheek. He smiled, returning the peck onto your lips before whispering into your ear, “Show ‘em what a lucky man I am.”

“Whew, all right..!” Nico propped himself up with a hop.

Nico made his way towards you and pulled you to the middle of the circle. Even knowing that you read his messages, he still carried that dashing smile like it was a weapon. One that regularly caused destruction on many hearts, one that charged your own like it was a battery—you just now discovered how disruptive dimples could be.

He was a sly man. Two-faced even, and you anticipated to discover this other side of him that he’d been reluctant to show.

“Hi—again,” Nico whispered through a smile. You found it charming how he couldn’t contain his glee. Dimple to dimple, they were like two separate smiles of their own, bracketing the salient beam from widening any further.

You wanted to peek over at Zane when Nico pressed his nose to yours, taunting himself—taunting you with the suspense of his soft-looking lips. But Nico’s hand on your nape was absolute and refusing, holding you like you were a weakening star—his dying wish, and made you fix his eyes on him, as he had done for you all this time. “Sorry you had to find out this way, but… I have a crush on you.”

“No—it’s fine. It’s why we’re here, right?” You braced one hand over Nico’s lap and the other on his broad chest. Sturdy, well-defined muscles graced your palm with every caress.

“Yeah… what a way to reciprocate my feelings…”

Slowly, you felt Nico’s breath warm your lips before they were taken hostage by his pair of reds, mirroring the close of his eyes upon noticing. The room fell to a silence, watching like hawks, closing in between the two bodies for front seating of the kiss.

He started gentle; soft lips moving against softer lips, careful to avoid hitting your glasses, your gasps and his groans filling your mouth with fulfillment. One hand of Nico’s maintained on your nape while the other rested on the small of your back, to pull you closer, to feel the skin hidden beneath polycotton. His hand was warm as he roamed; big as he held at nothing but something all at once; inquisitive as his fingers would occasionally dip into the waistband of your shorts.

The longer it goes on, the harder the kiss was. Nico’s mouth was illusive, now hard and abrasive to train your mouth open, and then stay open as he licked into your mouth and explored with his curious tongue. Your ears perked at an envious comment from one of the guys, but it was quickly hushed following the sound of your moans. Nico wrapped his mouth around your tongue and sucked with ardency, mining any possible sounds out of you like they were Earth’s greatest treasure. Your tongue reeled back in growing desire to tick a kink off of Nico’s bucket list, smooching a few more times on the lips, holding his cheek, and then whispering into his warm mouth with a bated breath as his hand halted its lone venture up the opening of your shorts.

“You’re a great kisser, Nico…”

“Time!”

A timer sang from your side, and a web of spit tailed your lips as you pulled away, letting your gaze linger to catch Nico’s heightened arousal in his eyes before returning to your seat.

“Fuck..,” chuckles spread from man to man when Nico returned, exhaling and shaking all sorts of trembles out of his body. Oliver and Tom aided with hard smacks to Nico’s back, sharing the thrill of the kiss simultaneously.

“Was that okay?” You whispered to Zane, fixing your glasses while the rest of the guys debriefed on Nico’s fulfillment. A collection of comments such as, “I’m fucking jealous…”, “Did you see the way he looked at you? Fucking sexy…”, “God, I hope it’s me next,” made you squirm in your seat.

Your mission from all of this was to make Zane proud, but it wouldn’t hurt if you gifted yourself a slight ego-boost in the meantime, right?

“You did… fucking perfect. I think you’re riling them up—riling me up too, actually,” he muttered, briefly maneuvering your hand to demo the boner in his shorts before returning back to his duties as the host. “Okay, settle down! Babe? Next spin, please? Think the team’s getting a little antsy.”

You surveyed the room again. Nico was subtly pushing down on his crotch while Drew, Tom, and Oliver were casual about it, openly massaging themselves through their shorts, their eyes wandering towards you with repose. If you hadn’t had the decency to look away, you could’ve indulged in their thick prints for a little longer.

But duty called. You reached for the bottle and spun it, bating the men with the suspense of who was going to be next in line in warming you up.

The crown of the bottle stopped parallel to Taylor, who was slouched on his elbows like he’d been expecting it—rigged it with his mind if telekinesis was more than hypothetical. He greeted you with provocation, flashing his brows and a smug smile all at once, then a wink, before joining you in the middle. You always found him intimidating. It was probably those eyelashes of his. They were always fluttering, even when you would go over his notes—he would blink and stare once knowing it was effective enough to render you speechless. As naive as it sounded—it felt like Taylor was adept to anything and everything, including whatever he was about to do to you.

And you were absolutely correct in that hypothesis—because Taylor immediately began stripping you down. It was inevitable, but you didn’t expect all of you to be bared within the second spin.

“Seems like Taylor’s on a mission.” Oliver laughed, catching your briefs and taking a whiff at it before passing it to the group. One by one, you watched each person press their nose to the center of your briefs, and inhale. Comments on the smell of your arousal made your dick twitch again. Harder, when Drew and Oliver engrossed themselves in the fine stain of pre-cum and took multiple lingering whiffs in hounding the sweet musk again. You’d think you laced them with some kind of potion—an elixir that amplified their excitement through every vein in their body, from hands to cock.

From head to toe, your clothes came off and were tossed aside, and you let Taylor’s spirit of inquiry explored as he pleased. Sprawling your arms and legs out like he was frisking you, smacking the back of your thighs like he was a butcher examining the quality of fresh meat. You groaned when he loitered at your naked body, noticing the constellation of goosebumps on your chest to the dimples on your backside—all with a glaze of his hand. Taylor’s fingers followed every contour of your body—from spine to muscle—studying you and the smallest reactions you’d spare him with pleased eyes as he smacked, kissed, smoothed, and licked the canvas that was made of skin and bone. You were a sculpture carved by the Renaissance, and Taylor was a curator, assessing your value through the warmth of his mouth, the slick of his tongue, and the kneads of his hands.

“Oh, what do we have here?” His mouth was on your stomach, closely tending to the warm skin with kisses, while his hand was on your rump, prodding at the plug that had been confined in you for the entirety of the day. “Guys, jackpot. (M/N) came with a surprise.”

“I-it wasn’t my idea—“ Heat rose high to your neck when Taylor turned you around and showed your ass off to the ogling group of men. While he was at it, he mind as well brand you with a price tag—right on your ass cheeks, where Taylor smacked each side once, massaging them with a firm knead, and spread you open.

“Holy shit…” Tom muttered while he stood on his knees, taking in the sight of your plugged hole. You impulsively squeezed your thighs together, covering your growing erection at the marveling shared between the six men. There was a wonder in Zane’s expression, resembling the first time he undressed you before his very eyes.

“You like teasing us, don’t you?” Drew said when your glutes tensed, and the room hummed with the soft susurrus of agreement. “Pretty thick ass too, jesus—“

“Time,” Zane stopped the alarm after a ring, sighing in between kneads to his bulge.

Five of the guys collectively groaned from the cliff-hanger while Taylor gave your hard ass a smack in midst of returning to his seat. “See how considerate I can be? You’re welcome, fellas!”

You jolted, gulping at the budding sting. It was becoming a habit to seek for Zane’s approval after every turn, and fortunately you did—because unbeknownst to Taylor, Zane was staring him down, a furious and annoyed look on his face that quickly simmered when he caught your gaze.

“Spin, please.”

The next stop was Tom—Eager Tom. He’d been making comments on your body since he stepped foot inside the apartment, so it was expected that his turn would be based on personal whims. Although, you reckoned that the plug inside of you turned the tides.

Making you kneel on all fours, Tom slowly twisted the plug in and out of you while the group gathered from behind and intimately watched. You clenched at the base, stifling your groans into the back of your hand upon the group’s growing fascination with the sight of your swelling pucker.

“Fuck, look at that pretty rim…” Oliver mumbled, and Tom took it as a hint to trace the border of your hole with his finger, lone yet devious.

“If it looks that appetizing, imagine how it tastes,” Drew covertly suggested.

Tom hummed in thought while toying thoughtlessly with your hole—into your hole. “Not much of an ass-eater, maybe I should hand that task off to someone more capable… What do you think, (M/N)?”

“P-please… anyone is fine—”

As the tip neared its exit, you desperately held onto the last bit of latex that kept you from baring it all—thighs vibrating from the difficulty, toes curling as Tom screwed—but your muscles were as weak as Tom’s patience, and you naturally gave into his tortuous wrenching, clamming up him when he suddenly plunged the plug back into you, then completely bloomed—when Tom finished you off with a tyrannical yank.

“O-oh, god!” You yelped loud as you bared yourself for the group. Deep waves of heat trampled over your body and swam into every course of vein as one person after the other, from Tom to Drew to Nico to Oliver to Taylor to Zane, moaned in chorus at the sight of your budding insides.

Your chest laid flat on the floor, your glasses tossed and forgotten, your hips and ass raised high, your cock throbbed towards the floor—you suddenly buckled your hips when you felt a wad of spit launched directly at your blinking hole.

Then another, and another, and then three consecutive more, until your hole felt completely, and utterly drenched—one from every man you presumed as you laid there, writhing and dripping.

“Fuck, so pretty when it’s glistening like that,” Tom groaned. You could hear fabrics moving, see clothes coming off when you peeked from your position, and your cock throbbed at the smallest glimpse of Tom’s naked body, followed by Oliver’s, and then so on.

“Time,” Zane said again, then a second later rescinded his announcement, rubbing an affectionate hand over your back for you to look up. “Actually, fuck this—baby, you’re okay with us starting now? I don’t think we can handle it anymore… yeah?”

“Y-yeah, no—I can’t wait any longer—oh!” Suddenly, you felt something wet breach your hole. Unrelenting in its expedition as it flicked and wiggled the group’s load of spit inside of you, sliming you up from inside and out.

“Sorry, (M/N). Drew hasn’t had dinner yet—come on, up and at ‘em,” Oliver steered you back on all fours with a rough pull to your shoulders, and knelt himself before you. He pushed your hair back once, admiring the sweat beading over your hairline, the increasingly dismayed look on your face when someone—Taylor—spread and smacked your ass apart for Drew to lick and devour inside you completely. “And neither have you. Open.” You couldn’t even hesitate as Oliver worked at lighting pace. He hooked his thumb into your mouth, pulled it open, spat a thick load of spit where your tongue deftly caught it, and pushed his thick cock into your mouth—all in one neck-braking motion.

“Fuck…” Oliver moaned at the warmth of your mouth. His eyes rolled, but the sight of your lips wrapped around his veiny dick was holier than the overhead lights spotlighting you from above, so he did his best to maintain his composure, working your mouth open with the girth of his cock—slow and steady.

At least Oliver was generous enough to not shove himself down the back of your throat, but still—your throat spasmed nonetheless when he shoved himself deeper with a tug to your nape. Upon the hit to your throat, you abruptly pushed him out with your tongue and a gag, launching into a coughing fit.

“Loosen up on him, will you? He bruises easily,” Zane muttered, noticing Oliver’s fingers turning eggshell-white upon taking your name in his hand. Although, that didn’t stop Zane’s hand from fisting his cock. If anything, it pulsed merrily at the sound of your throat resisting.

“He’ll use his safe words, right? You’re fine? Tell me if you need a break,” As much as Oliver was large and imposing, his body a thick and study mass akin to Zane’s, his eyes were made of sugar. An uncanny color for those soluble carbohydrates, but it was fitting, considering your body melted from the way he looked fondly at you and petted at your cheek. “Pretty.”

“I-I’m fine…” You said with a bated breath and nodded to Oliver with assurance. Then again, when Zane’s hand pushed your hair back and remained on the crown of your head. “I’m fine. Promise.”

“I know. I trust you.” He bent down to soothe the swell of your lips with a lingering kiss before delivering a smack to your ass and pulling away with a renewed disposition. “Suck his cock like how you suck mine. Properly, this time.”

“Fuck—“ Your body propelled forward from the never-ending feast on your puckering hole. Out of curiosity, you peered over your shoulder and instantly found yourself regretting it. It was unavoidable. Your cock leaking in agony, watching Nico, Taylor, and Drew take turns at licking stripes over your hole. Hungry animals.

On Drew’s turn, he caught your gaze in midst of his licks and came to a sudden halt. He then widened his tongue over your crack and with a leaden pace, laved his tongue over your crease like he was cleaning the last bit of crumbs off his plate, smug and teasing in his scheme to make you break.

“No more distractions, yeah? That’s not the way you treat your boyfriend’s friends.” A grappling hook to your nape tore your eyes back to your front, and your mouth was instantly filled again with the heavy weight of Oliver’s musky cock. Your hands were braced on the floor, clutching at nothing but the installed security of wood panels, as Oliver rocked into your mouth. Your cheeks hallowed progressively, adapting to the stretch of your mouth when he tested the depth of your throat numerous times before finally committing and sinking his cock into the back of your mouth, into your throat, with one gratified push.

“Good boy. Hold it, hold it, don’t move. Just relax…” Zane heartened by your right side, reaching in between your legs and fondling with your cock as he’d been doing with his own. Upon the welling of tears, you clamped your eyes shut for comfort, and nearly choked back on your own spit, impulsively squeezing around Oliver’s cock.

“Oh, shit… holy fuck, guys.” Tom was marveling at your left. You peeked your eyes open and caught a glimpse of his hand spit-shining his long, veiny cock, twisting deliciously eager over his plump glans near your temple, the sticky sound of his spit loud and clear in your ear. “Jesus, Zane wasn’t lying when he said you could take dick like no other.”

Oliver’s balls were pressed flush to your chin, your mouth was stuffed into the unshaven hairs of his pubic area, your nostrils was flared from arousal at the salty scent of the dried sweat within vicinity, and your throat was plugged with a glorious amount of thick and heavy cock.

“There we go, that’s it. Good,” Oliver moaned, tenderly massaging your nape while cutting off the supply of oxygen at the same time. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Doing everything we want, huh?”

“Mmfgh!” Your moans muffled in the cramming of his swollen cock as Oliver began patting and squeezing your cheeks, tightening the suction of your mouth by curling his body overhead, and simply pushing deeper.

Swelling harder, throbbing, the longer you endured. You’d learned how to breathe through your nose when it came down to this, but you still had difficulties relaxing your tongue. It wasn’t surprising when ample amounts of saliva began leaking out of your mouth. More spilled out when Oliver pulled you back a centimeter, only for the course of action to halt with another plunge of his cock, somehow sinking deeper down your throat.

“Think he can fit another one?” Nico halfheartedly joked, the last one to crawl over and join the group in their sight-seeing. His cock was hard, veins bulging in a way that made you delirious because Oliver alone was enough to make you overwhelmed in the best way possible.

You couldn’t possibly imagine another cock lodged in.

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, right, babe?” Zane tugged on your cock harder. He pulled at your balls, thumbed the piss-slit, and stroked your shaft with the pre-cum that had been dripping in solitude. “So wet, you’re so fucking wet from being used like this.”

Finally, you were graced with the precious taste of air. Oliver slowly pulled his dick from the depth of your throat, and the group moaned at the sight of your throat simultaneously deflating from its bulge.

Your throat was sore, but it was worth it. Moving your eyes from one man to another, it was finally registering what a dream this was. All of them were exceptionally fit with sweat proudly highlighting their training. All of them sported deliciously thick erections with multiple sights of pre-cum dripping like molasses to taunt you. What was more important was that all of their eyes were on you—something as minuscular as a blink would set them off, and they’d restart the non-existent staring battle between you and the group again.

They were as breathless as you were, and your heart was pumping with the sickening volume of their cocks being cordially stroked, their pecs and biceps brawny and bouncing from the exhilaration you’d been supplying them.

It was fucking worth it.

Under Zane’s conducting, the team flipped you onto your back, cushioning your body with multiple throw pillows, and surrounded themselves around you again, where you could properly watch them pleasure their cocks with the lube Zane had distributed as they kneeled over you. Then, Taylor made the decision for himself to slot his body beneath you, embracing you from behind and using his arms around you to hold your legs and hips back, positioning his freshly lubed cock near your hole.

“You smell good,” Taylor commented at the scent of your cologne, kissing madly into your neck as he found the source. You gulped, feeling him staring again through those eyelashes of his. With one hand, he turned your cheek to face him, his lips nearing and over yours, but never meeting. Lingering, breathing, gazing, indulging—you both surveyed each other’s features. Watching your soft but swollen lips, watching his sharp but pleading eyes. He pushed himself in without as much of a warning—and then watched the enlightened expression on his face, the immense rapturing of yours. For a moment, you swore you could’ve seen something other than lust in Taylor’s eyes, but he punctuated the delusions straight out of you with an unbearable thrust, and you never looked back. You gasped at the girth of his cock stretching you out, and his breath hitched at the spontaneous clenching your tight hole was bestowing him. “Fuck…”

You breathed out a whimper, and your parted mouth was immediately seized with the taste of Tom’s thick cock as he kneeled over your body and thrusted himself selfishly down your throat. Deeper, when Tom found your gags to be indecently enticing and feeding into his cock veins.

To make everything all the more dizzying, your hands were taken and wrapped around a pair of throbbing cocks; Zane and Nico’s in your left, Drew and Oliver in your right. Every contact point on your body, from Taylor’s dick pressing deep inside of you, to Tom’s succulent cock bulging your cheek, to Zane, Nico, Oliver, and Drew rubbing against their respective partner and fucking into your closed fist, burned.

“You love being full of cock, don’t you? Look at you… pleasuring the six of us at once. Come on, use your mouth. Suck Tom off, you can do it,” Taylor mouthed at your shoulder, the warmth of his breath tickling you, and then a complimentary bite to your shoulder—making your pulse run high. His grasp on the back of your raised thighs was warring as he used his core to beat his thick cock inside of you and pummel you open.

You cried around Tom’s cock, Taylor’s balls slapping your taint with every exhilarating thrust and feeding into your indulgence. Tom was noble. You already had enough on your plate; stroking two thick cocks per hand and enduring Taylor’s aggressive fucks. The intricate position you were in made it more difficult for you to suck him off, so Tom took matters into his own hands, and used your mouth as he pleased. His hands were behind his head as if they could stabilize the swimming lewd thoughts. You peeked at the utter state of bliss he was in, and your cock throbbed at the sight of his body. His chest full, his pits trimmed, his built expertly trimmed with fine and intricate muscles, especially so whenever he sunk in his stomach and flexed from the heat of your throat. You were salivating not only because the taste of Tom’s cock was so delightfully salty, but also because you were surrounded by such gorgeous men—a heaven of greek gods.

You felt reborn.

The kiss is all-consuming when Tom pulled himself out to press his lips against yours, making you sit up on Taylor’s lap. When his tongue pried your mouth open effortlessly, electricity shot down your spine, only for it to sear back up with the vicious pounding Taylor was giving you. “You taste like my dick, you like that?” Tom inhaled every ounce of breath you dispelled into his mouth. Broken sounds of whimpers and moans, a confusing yet compatible elixir that Tom drank up, and poured it back down your throat when he licked deeper into your mouth. He licked and nipped at your lips, tangled your tongue with his, and stole your breath with the eagerness of his mouth on yours that hadn’t seem to be faltering.

Heat flushed through your veins when each person took a turn to your mouth. The straddling position allowed the group to enclose themselves around you, the air thickening and weighing heavier than the swing of their cocks. Five heavy dicks surrounded your face while Taylor’s continued to swell beneath you, turning you inside and out as his hands on your hips hardened. It was an insoluble dilemma of your sexual appetite. You were starving for something to fill your mouth, but who—was the dilemma you were faced with.

“So big, fuck—“ You caught yourself drooling at the sight of their cocks dripping for you.

You behaved like a wanton, catching Oliver’s pre-cum with your tongue before sucking hard on Zane’s cock, then simultaneously stroking Drew and Nico over your shoulders ardently. The smell of Tom’s and Oliver’s salty cocks rubbing over your face made you vigilant and heightened your arousal to a crescendo. Eagerly, you replaced Zane’s cock with the two men, and moaned when the uncomfortable stretch they had provided made you stiffen around Taylor’s shaft.

“Shit, I’m going to—“ Taylor warned, his large hand splayed on your sweaty lower back while he wallowed in the confines of your walls, squeezing and clamping around his bristling cock.

Your mouth was stretched, saliva dripping from either corners of your lips, the crown of their dicks thick enough to shut your trap without so much as touching your throat. The wonderful sounds of their moans made the strain on your jaw well-worth the ache you were surely going to feel the effects from tomorrow onwards.

“Taking two cocks at once—never seen that before, Christ…” There was a vacant space in the middle of your mouth. Tilting your chin up, Oliver pushed a wad of spit into the opening—smug as he watched it fall into the void, somewhere in the back of your throat.

“He’s a horny little thing, isn’t he?” Tom followed in Oliver’s steps, spitting inside of your mouth. Two people were enough to set off a chain reaction as the rest of the group quickly joined. Nico, Drew, and Zane added their own shipment to the pooling spit haul, and they all watched in awe when you relaxed your tongue and let it drain into the back of your throat as one load.

The dehumanizing exploitation of your body turned sweat into goosebumps, and you were eager to be covered in welts by the time you were done.

Your entire body lit up at the attention the men were giving you. Taylor fucked you harder, his hands bruising on your body. Nico and Drew occupied the sloppy void that was your mouth when Tom pulled out to join Zane in kissing your flushed neck, and Oliver tended to your abandoned cock with his hand, stroking and twisting your knob. You choked on the two cocks as they attempted to fuck your mouth. It was a constant collision on your tongue and cheeks, where loads of spit pooled and dripped for a messy bustle, and you wouldn’t let them out of your mouth until Taylor delivered one strong thrust, and emptied himself inside of you. The sudden launch of his cum erupting inside made you pull away with a bated breath and moan, your body writhing as he flooded your insides.

“Fuck!” He shouted from behind you, clawing into your inner thighs while your ass was pumped with the warmth of his thick cum. Warm spurts continued to paint you from the inside as Taylor resumed his hips for a few more seconds, dumping every seed that he could push out deep inside of your violated hole, until his sack was emptied.

“Don’t let it leak out,” Drew hoisted you off of Taylor’s limp and recovering body, and pushed you back onto all fours, your head in between Taylor’s legs. “—and clean him up. Not a drop wasted, got it?”

“M-mm, yeah—fuck!” When you began licking at the underside of Taylor’s softening cock, your hole was back to being occupied again with the hung curve that was Drew’s dick. He didn’t waste a single second in making you squirm. With both hands tucked into your pelvis, Drew used your body as leverage while fucking madly into you.

“Fuck—look at you, you’re creaming all over my dick,” the sounds were delectable. Soft and creamy with every thrust Drew delivered to your ass—you felt some cum splatter onto your back from how hard he was fucking into you. As much as your asscheeks stung from the way his thighs clapped against your flesh, you were relishing every second of it with Taylor’s cock in your mouth, languidly swiveling your tongue and lapping up remnants of his seed until he was pristine.

The rough spanking marked you as Drew’s in the moment. You felt guilty for thinking it, but it was placed in good faith. HIs palm seared your stinging ass, reminding you to tend to the others. You do, your vision blurry and hazy, but you took whatever cock wanted to enter your mouth. Tom’s, Oliver’s, Nico’s, then Zane’s—they all tasted incredible and if you were allowed to, you could see yourself coming right then and there—simply from sucking cock—cocks.

You thrived in rough hands. Drew’s, Zane’s—anyone’s. Your skin throbbed when Zane and Nico slapped your cheeks with their cocks, and your asshole spasmed when Drew sealed himself within you, pushing every drop of seed until he slumped over the curve of your back, toppling you onto the ground with his weight. Even then, he pushed into your squirms, his cock buried deep into your ass, refusing to pull himself away from the sickening pleasure.

“Up and at ‘em, (M/N). Not done yet,” Oliver smiled and pulled you onto your feet, positioning himself behind you.

“Fuck—Zane…” You called out to him, bracing yourself on the arm of his couch as your muscles were still stirring awake from their sleep.

He approached you, quick in his steps, immediately tending to your non-existent wounds. His fingers through your hair, his hand over your cheeks. “What—you’re okay? What do you need? Too much? Fuck—Drew, I told you to go easy on—”

“N-no, no! I’m okay—fuck, I—I love this… so much… So much cum inside of me, god—” You were in a dreamlike state, drunk on the lights overhead you were mistaking for stars. Reality blurred even more when you felt Oliver take your wrists with one strong hold, holding them over your back, and pushed himself inside of you with one strong thrust. “Fuck!”

“Loosen up, dude. Your boy’s enjoying it—see? Taking our cocks like it’s a fucking olympic sport,” Oliver cruelly laughed, ignoring the twisting of Zane’s face as he focused on the absolute bliss on your face, holding you parallel to his body, to the sharp thrusts he catapulted upwards into your sloppy hole. “All the cocks that’s been inside of you, but you’re still so fucking tight. You going to loosen anytime soon? Hm? Too much of a slut to let that happen, right? I know you feel me in your guts, (M/N). You look fucking beautiful taking my dick so effortlessly.”

Drips of cum were leaking out of you. You could feel it trailing from your creamy hole, then down to the back of your slick tensed thighs as Oliver fucked you while standing.

Unlike Drew, Oliver didn’t need to brand you with hard spanks to your body. His hammering cock was enough, hollowing you with ease, the crown assaulting your sweet spot with ease—everything Oliver did was with ease, and it was further aided as you let yourself go limp. He fucked you bent over the arm of the couch, then when he had enough, you were back to being fucked standing. His arms looped around your pits, then interlocked behind your neck in support of his thrusts. His cock was ruthless in your ass, spearing and ruining your hole for anyone else to come after him. Your tender hole was brutally stretched around his swelling cock, your body burning up from the hold he was restraining your body with. Oliver whispered praises for your endurance, kisses you on the neck, then the shell of your ear for providing him a pleasure that would be the blueprint for the rest of his hook-ups. He straightened his knees, pushing himself balls deep into you, and in one long groan from his gut, spilled deep inside of you.

“Bet you feel so full, don’t you? Fuck…” Oliver grabbed his dick at the base and squeezed the remaining spurts inside of you before pulling out, flicking any remnants of cum over your bruised ass cheeks.

You moaned for him. The third load in your ass, and your heart was aching because you were another man closer to concluding the night.

It was open, dripping in cum, and then immediately seized when Nico pulled you onto his lap to join him on the couch. You felt like a rag doll—pulled, tossed, and thrown however one was pleased to treat you. As long as your hole was still functioning and remained at their disposal, neither of the men had any complaints about marking your body with a few scuffs.

Nico faced you to the group, your back planted against him. You whimpered when your tired limbs were hoisted once again as he hooked his arms under your knees, and then raised your legs up to position your dripping hole over his cock. Your hole had become a luscious swell of gape. The group marveled at the sight of your puffy rim, beautifully creamed by the pleasure of Taylor, Drew, and Oliver respectively.

“Holy shit, he’s fucking hollowed out…” Tom muttered, stroking himself to the sight of your insides blooming for everyone to see.

“Shit’s getting me horny again,” Taylor laughed, tugging on his flaccid cock, his body still recovering from the high he had inflicted upon himself moments prior.

Supporting your body with his arms, Nico raised your legs higher, bending them back until your knees hovered near your temples, and then locked his hand around your neck to hold you in place. Your mouth fell agape at the stretch of your muscles, and heat spread throughout your body as the group watched Nico’s cock breach your opening with a slow shove, pushing the leak of cum back inside of your guts.

Your hands trembled as you guarded your position on the couch upon Nico folding you back and feasting on your insides with his length. You felt Nico’s thighs tense, pushing up into you with all his might while your gaze locked with Zane’s. He gulped at the unholy sight of your hole being raptured—hungrily being excavated with Nico’s throbbing tool. Nico’s cock was covered in the recent load stuffed inside of you, an increasing sheen the more he fell into a rhythm, and rutted into you aimlessly, chasing after his fill. He slid in and out of you easily, the ample amount of cum replacing any need for to renew his dick with lube.

You and Nico panted in union. His heavy cock stretched you open, and Nico apologized with a blistering kiss to your shoulder, as if fucking you couldn’t be the apology itself. When you alternated your gaze to Tom, he looked almost predatory. Eager like he had always been, but something internal was running thin—Tom’s patience. He scooted closer, watching you take Nico’s fat cock with scalding envy. While your hole took the screwing, Tom caressed the rim of your asshole. You were loose enough for what he wanted to do to you. Carefully, Tom pressed one finger against the underside of Nico’’s cock, and you choked back on your moans, throwing your head back at the sudden tightness as Tom slipped a finger inside of you. Nico continued rocking, occasionally slowing to accommodate Tom as he worked three fingers inside of you.

“T-Tom, that’s too much—“

“But it feels good though, right? You seem to like it when it’s too much.”

Spitting on his own cock, Tom massaged the layer of lube in before lining himself with your occupied opening. Your eyes widened in stupefied anticipation—in arousing fear—yet you brought your hands over to spread your ass cheeks for him, for Tom to force his cock into your body alongside Nico’s length, and you cried with the double breach.

“M-mmfgh! Fuck…!” You cried out, your eyes rolled in the sockets, leaving only the whites of your eyeballs visible as Nico and Peter began moving in opposite rhythms.

“Fuck, Tom—your dick feels so good against mine, holy crap—“

With an animalistic groan, you pushed your ass out, greedily taking the two cocks into your gut despite the uncomfortable stretch signaling for you to stop and rethink about this decision unfolding before your very eyes.

Not long after, Nico and Tom pumped their hips in harmony, filling you over and over. Cum would trickle out from Tom joining, but he was quick to pull himself back out and scoop it back inside of you with a deep plunge that made the three of you reduce yourselves to nothing but guttural moans. You felt Nico’s body tense beneath you, coercing your own to tighten at the core.

Holding your thighs, Tom pushed into you to the hilt while Nico followed suit. They shuddered with ecstasy, growling like wild beasts from the natural impulse to clamp your sloppy hole around them. Their cocks were rubbing against one another, harder, faster, as they fucked themselves inside of you, opening you more than you had thought was imaginable at a relentless pace. You mewled, collapsing back onto Nico’s hold as your body rocked from the powerful thrusts as if you were caught in a tide.

You felt your own cock throb at this, balls tightening and stroking your cock to the sound of Nico in your ear and Tom at your lips, panting into your mouth in between messy kisses. You were wrecked, completely and utterly ruined as they rocked their shafts into you in opposite strides now. One would hit your sweet spot while the other pulled himself out to renew that fresh stretch of your rim again as they pushed with conviction. Between labored breaths, you searched for Zane over Tom’s shoulder, your heart beating faster and faster as he seemed to be mesmerized by the display of your sheer dedication in following in on your promise to make him feel like the luckiest man on Earth.

Faster. Harder. Deeper. In a matter of seconds, you all came together. Your body spasmed and writhed between their own twitching, your hole clenched around the erupting cocks, your own dick throbbed and spurted out creamy ropes onto your body. Their hips were unrelenting, frothing the thick cum sent deep into your crevices with writhing and swollen flesh, and you slumped, Nico’s released hold relieving your muscles as your body shifted back and forth from the two cocks milking themselves until their shafts softened.

At the thought of Zane—the last man that you would be taking—your position came to you unbidden. Scrolled over the arm of the couch again, you felt comforted by the ample leg room, stretching your muscles for the final act while Zane prepared himself behind you, laving his cock over your crevice, submerging himself in the wetness that your raw hole was dripping out. You were depraved of touch—Zane’s touch—you barely spent a minute with him in between stationing yourself with every men. All except him.

“They did a real number on you…” Zane muttered in your ear. His left hand caressed the tense muscles in your back before joining his right in steering you by the shoulders, his grip clutching a bruising shade into your skin. “Suddenly I don’t matter anymore, hm? You only call me over to show yourself off—showing off that dripping hole of yours.” Unsolicited moans drew out of you with the push of Zane’s hips, fitting his cum-covered cock over your crevice, as a way to soothe the swelling of your puffy rim, but also to ridicule your newfound addiction. “Showing off what was mine—that has now been ruined by five other fucking men. Fuck, I saw the way you were looking at them. All of them. You reek of them too, fucking slut.” He deliberately pressed his swollen cockhead to your ring of muscle, swirling and tracing the circumference, only to move back a centimeter and slide himself right by, pressing his shaft against you instead.

You whimpered, circling your hips back for more of Zane, to apologize to him with the warmth of your hole, to make up for your lack of attention towards him by letting him milk himself inside of you—like you’d done for the others. “I-I’m sorry—Zane, please—“ Your breath hitched when Zane wrapped a hand around your throat and pulled you against his imposing chest, arching you forward.

“So, you want my cock now? Five dicks weren’t enough? You need mine to feel satisfied? Face the group. Tell them how much you love my cock,” squeezing your cheek, he forced your head to turn to his friends. They stirred in their seats, their hands back to fisting their erections again.

“I-I love Zane’s cock… I love the way he fucks me—no—the way he makes love to my hole, the way he fills me up to the brim with his thick cum, the way he milks himself and breeds me. I love that he takes his time with me, s-shows me that I’m more than just a doll for fucking,” With the way you were looking; panting from the amount of dick you had taken for the past hour, sweating from the thickened sex in the air, dripping from the loads that marked their battle claim on you; you evoked a fever that spread from one end of the circle to the other. One by one, they gathered closer, inhaling the scent of your arousal—their sex, their seed deeply embedded into your body like you had no other choice but to use them as cologne.

“I-I love that he fucks me—like he loves me,” you peeked over your shoulder to look back at him with groveling gratitude. Was it a mistake to admit this for the first time? In this moment? Where it was confessed to the public, rather than solely to Zane? Your heart raced, and Zane was well-aware as he pacified you with doting affection on your chest, roaming his free hand over the plane, tweezing your perky nipples while his other hand at your throat maintained. You brought a hand up to hold his nape, to hold you close to you because—you’d been separated from your boyfriend for far too long. You were malfunctioning, throwing yourself to every man who wanted to please you and that swollen hole of yours, and you needed Zane to ground you back to him.

And ground you he did—Zane humbled you in the process, evidently satisfied with your short monologue as the kiss he honored you with was deep and enthralling. He poured all sorts of emotion in your mouth, explored it with his tongue in midst of tucking his feelings inside of you, muttered incoherent words of affection while he was drunk on your breath feeding his lungs with life.

“I love you,” he tucked the confession into the shell of your ear and punctuated his returning feelings with one sharp charge of his thrust. The previous loads within you permeated—saturated deep into your flesh—as Zane congested your guts with his large cock, making you wail on his slow, but bellicose hips. “I. Love. You.” Zane repeated in your ear, following up with every one of his thrusts. His cock was methodical inside of you. Screwing what was loose, tightening your walls like his cock was a hammer to secure you around his girth. You felt yourself tip-toeing the floor, the thrusts catapulting your body from Zane’s strength, but there was not a second where you didn’t feel safe. His hold on you—driving into you with his cock, restricting your limbs while he showered you with the most heart-fluttering compliments—he was your sanctuary, the holiest of all places, and you felt revived.

He had his hand over your throat, vaulting your moans with a clamp, pushing you back onto your heel, but as soon as he came up again and delivered those rapturing thrusts, you returned to your natural stance on your tip-toes. You struggled to make sounds—loud mewls and whimpers that proved how absolutely fulfilling you felt in the moment. Your throat was sore and dry, and your body was exhausted and could only endure Zane for so long. You fell limp in Zane’s arms, tensing at the right moments where he penetrated your prostate. It was the unsolicited answer to your body malfunctioning.

The roll of your eyes, the spasming of your asshole, the gape of your mouth as silent moans thickened the air—you and Zane bonded as one. Your ass pushed back to meet his thrusts, creating an electrifying wave of thunderous sounds of sweaty and sticky skin clapping against each other. You felt your body ripple from Zane’s power, from his devotion to forge your hole to the shape of his cock, from his desperate need to tell you that he loved you with more than just his words. You felt every inch of him through your gut. Bent over the arm of the couch, your sweat dripped onto the leather while he fucked you against it, your skin chafing abrasively. Your knees constantly collided with the furniture, but you were too far gone, completely lost in a cycle of Zane’s affection that you didn’t realize your chin was being held up by Drew, jerking his cock over your face.

You blinked rapidly to ward off exhaustion and before you could comprehend the line forming behind him, your face was propelled with thick flying ropes of cum. Drew spilled all over you with a moan, aiming wherever, but mostly at the center. He shot at you hard, feeling himself splatter from your lips, then to your hair.

It happened rapidly, Zane’s hips seemingly quickening to sync with the group’s thunder-paced wrists. Taylor was the next person in line, pumping his hairy cock to the sight of Drew’s cum dripping off of your nose from the vigor force Zane was pummeling you from behind. With a deep grunt and a push of his hips, Taylor emptied his heavy sack, adding onto the layers of cum on your face.

You’ve seen it in the videos you’d watched. It was no good letting their hard-work go to waste. You tipped your head back and Tom helped, resting his hand at your hairline while he stroked his cock over the stains on your face. Again, he was another man to blow another thick load onto your face. Before he left, he made sure to wipe himself clean on your neck, embellishing you with his gratitude.

Then came Nico; the massive amount of loads on your face pooled as you patiently waited for his second high. Your vision was screwed, trying to peer through the cum dripping down your eyelids, but eventually you had to settle on shutting your eyes and anticipate blindly. Within seconds, you heard Nico grunt and moan, followed by another spillage onto your face. He aimed directly at your mouth, where you missed the first unforeseen shot, but quickly adapted and opened your mouth to hold his seed. The salty taste on your tongue bloomed, and whoever’s cum was trailing from the bridge of your nose, past your philtrum and into your open mouth was even saltier, making you writhe as the shudders were uncontrollable when you swallowed.

Finally, Oliver stepped up and amused himself to the heavy decoration weighing down on your face. Stroking his cock, he also played with the cum, dipping the crown of his cock into someone else’s load, scooping a white thread was dangling off your jaw and into your mouth, wiping your eyelids clean with his glans—because he wanted you to see this. He wanted you to watch him come on you with immense pride, to watch him pump the study veins in his thick cock as he indulged at the sight of your pretty eyes surrounded by the four prior men’s fulfillment. With gritted teeth, Oliver groaned from the depth of his gut and released his seed all over you. The group saved the largest load for last. Your eyes immediately clenched following one thick splatter to your lid, then the other, blurring your vision and stinging your eyes once again as Oliver targeted painting you from all corners of the face, including the ones he had helped wipe clean. He squeeze the last remaining seed, and flicked it onto your lips, groaning from the sudden sensitivity in his cock.

“Shit… you look so—” Zane groaned from behind you. He couldn’t stop marveling at it; the unholy sight of your face snowed under an ample amount of cum. The scent of the group’s sex drifted in the almost still air, and Zane ached inside of you.

You can feel the warmth emanating from his study body when he pushed his weight onto you, fucking into you harder and igniting the burn in your thighs. Peeking from one eye, your head was turned to where Zane claimed his rightful place on your lips again. His eyes flashed with hunger at the taste of someone’s cum dripping into your mouth, so he kissed harder, molding your hole to his cock and hammering into you at a breath-taking pace. There were multiple passageways the various pool of mixed semen were taking on your face. A web dangled off your cheek, a trail dripped in pursuit of the kiss, a wet clump was smushed between Zane’s nose and yours; you and Zane were a sloppy mess, and you both were baptized by the scent, the taste, and the feeling of it all.

You were gorgeous, your delicate state only adding to your appeal. One more look at you, and Zane grunted low. He reached between your thighs with his hands, so hard it hurt, and he was wild and strong, fucking into you madly while knocking your breath into a state of stasis. His hips smacked against your ass, faster and faster, and your body was up in flames. Every thrust felt punishing, like he wanted to condemn you for seducing him—for loving him—but if this was punishment, you needed to find more ways to anger him, to love him.

You whimpered into his growls, his firm hands pulled you impossibly closer by the thighs, clutching and fucking you back onto his cock, as he raptured himself into you. He stroked the inside of your mouth, his tongue feeling fat and warm, savoring the taste of salty seed on your tongue, and he groaned into you once more. He grunted and growled like an animal, powered by the group watching in awe, the ravenous noise reverberating through your guts, and you feel the eruption of cum dousing your flesh, deep in your guts, his large cock pulsating in you.

The pleasure hit you like a lightning bolt. Your thighs shook, your hole spasmed, and you rut against his swelling cock, pleasured and soothed by the warmth and thickness of his steaming cum. His release had him quivering against your back, his face tucked inside the crook of your neck while he rocked slowly, breeding you.

“So good, you’re so fucking good…” Zane muttered weakly, panting and mouthing against the back of your ear.

“So full—“ you groaned at the heavy weight of dick in you, then hissed when Zane bucked his hips once more, kissing the crown of his cock to the mouth of your prostate, as if it was a reminder for you that he owned you.

Obscene noises came from his cock plunging your ass with cum—more cum, as you struggled to contain another load, and felt it drip down to your ankles. You sighed, taking it all in—taking Zane in—and slumped over the arm of the couch, heaving a euphoric sigh of relief, relishing in the high-yielding pleasure that was Zane’s cock, dazzling by the lights above you—the stars.

“You guys okay?” laughing at the group’s sudden exhaustion, Zane refused to pull away from you. His hands curled around your hips, then carefully maneuvered himself to lie on the couch with him, still buried to the root of your hole.

“Better than a smoke,” Drew yawned, rubbing his large hand over your ankle by virtue of exceeding his expectations. Nico petted at your head, the spent look on your face charming when you turned towards him and weakly smiled. Tom and Oliver were quiet, still recovering from their orgasm. When you caught their gaze, they held up their thumb once before plummeting back onto the floor.

“Fuck, man—you were great,” Taylor slumped against the foot of the couch, limbs sprawled from the exhaust of muscles, but he joined in on the caressing of your leg, squeezing at your calf, nearly rendering you to sleep.

One by one, the group fell to a silence, a gentle slumber despite the hardwood floors forewarning a few of them of a back ache the next morning. You watched peacefully, the caressing of your body slowly coming to a halt, and then looked back at Zane, collapsed onto your back, drifting into sleep with the gentle snores near your ear.

Hopefully by morning—Zane would tell you that you fulfilled on your promise.

He was the luckiest man alive.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[forexeduline]

[beansprean]

I always say Guillermo should get more fashionable as a vampire, so i made it happen - here's some of my favorite reds!

ty to @g0sts for being the perfect model~

See all 150+ outfits on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

Full body of vampire Guillermo taking a mirror selfie and flashing a peace sign. His phone case is a photo of Armand. He is wearing a dark green button shirt with tiny red polka dots and gold capped collar wings, a gold bat bolo tie with red strings, red suspenders with gold fang shaped clasps, tight black pants, black boots with gold toe caps, a red overcoat with gold details and bat wing tails, red bolo earrings, and several gold jade and ruby rings.

Repeat. He is wearing a bright red suit with a darker shawl collar and gold buttons over a black leather corset top laced up to the bottom of his breastbone, red frill at the hem. He has black boots with gold heels, a gold hoop in one ear, and three strings of gold beads around his neck.

Repeat. He is wearing a pale brick red button shirt with darker stripes over a deeper red knit sweater vest with a chevron pattern, brown chinos, brown tassel loafers with a rose pattern, several white gold rings, ruby drop earrings, and a metal rose brooch with a chain pinned to his collar.

Repeat. He is wearing a red button shirt with a low cut collar and a bellflower pattern. The collar and cuffs are black with a red lace pattern and each hem is studded with pearls. He has a black belt with a silver buckle, dark brown striped chinos, brown derby shoes, double pearl earrings, two strings of pearls and a sapphire pendant at his neck, and multiple gold, silver, and sapphire studded rings on nearly every finger.

Repeat. He is wearing a red balloon-sleeved button shirt with a black fishnet and pearl pattern with some darker flowers over a dark blue cropped sweater vest, high waisted red jeans, and dark blue slippers. He has pearl drop earrings and a ring with a large ruby stone.

Repeat. He is wearing a black shirt with red buttons, a pair of ruby collar pins with a chain, a ruby drop earring, a red sweater with a knit heart pattern, plaid blackish blue chinos, black boots with a red rose pattern, and a black overcoat with red buttons and a double breasted collar on only one side, revealing a red silk interior.

Repeat. He is wearing a sheer lace button shirt in a curling flower pattern, a pair of collar pins resembling dripping blood, a red tie with gold studs, a red waistcoat with a darker flower lace pattern, dark green chinos, black combat boots, several gold rings, and gold fang shaped stud earrings.

Repeat. He is wearing a blue striped button shirt, a cropped red velvet waistcoat with gold buttons and pocket chain, a red ascot with a gold spider brooch, a gold drop earring, a dark blue suit jacket and matching trousers, glittery red and gold boots, a long dark red trenchcoat with a wing tip collar, and several gold rings.

Repeat. He is wearing a sheer button shirt with a bright red heart pattern over a black tank top, red jeans, ruby drop earrings, a silver heart shaped ring, and brown oxfords with a heart shaped toe cap. /end ID

[pandacherryblossoms]

𐙚 Wrapped in Winter - Park Jisung 𐙚

wc: 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, Lots of sweetness, playful banter, boyfriend Jisung being the cutest, explicit sexual content, fingering, teasing, semi-public sex, slight dominance, Jisung being a bit of a menace, daddy kink, exhibitionism, praise kink, choking, edging, dirty talk, MDNI 18+

When Jisung had a break in his schedule, you knew exactly what to do with it. A trip to the mountains—just the two of you, away from the flashing lights, the endless rehearsals, and the exhausting travel. He deserved this. A place where he could breathe, relax, and just be yours for a little while.

And from the moment you arrived, everything felt like a dream.

Your cabin sat nestled in a blanket of white, the soft hush of snowfall making it feel like your own little world. The first night, Jisung lit the fireplace while you curled up under a thick blanket, watching the flames dance as he lazily traced patterns on your thigh.

“Can we stay here forever?” he murmured sleepily, his head resting against your shoulder.

You smiled, running your fingers through his soft hair. “Tempting, but I think your manager might hunt us down.”

He groaned dramatically, burying his face in your neck. “Five more days of you all to myself. I’m not thinking about anything else.”

Neither were you.

The next morning, you woke up to the golden glow of the sun reflecting off the snow-covered trees. Jisung was already up, leaning against the window, his breath fogging the glass. He turned when he heard you stir, grinning.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. We’ve got a lot to do today.”

That’s how you found yourself on top of a snow-covered slope, strapped into a snowboard, staring down at what might as well have been a death trap.

Jisung, of course, looked like he was born to be on one. He adjusted his goggles, smirking. “Bet I can beat you to the bottom.”

You scoffed. “Babe, I can’t even stay upright.”

“Exactly,” he teased. “Which means I automatically win.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s cheating.”

He just laughed, gliding effortlessly down the slope before stopping a few feet away. “Come on, I promise I won’t let you fall.”

“That’s a bold promise.”

You took a deep breath and tried to push off, but the second your board started moving, panic set in. “Oh, no—Jisung! Jisung, I don’t like this—”

Before you could finish, you were already tilting too far forward. With a yelp, you fell face-first into the snow.

Silence.

Then laughter.

You groaned, pushing yourself up only to see Jisung doubled over, hands on his knees, absolutely dying of laughter.

“You—” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “You didn’t even last three seconds.”

Scowling, you scooped up a handful of snow and chucked it at him. He yelped when it hit his jacket, then gave you a betrayed look. “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?”

Before you could react, he skated over effortlessly and dropped to his knees beside you, gathering his own handful of snow. “Jisung,” you warned.

“Love you,” he said sweetly—right before shoving the snow against your cheek.

You shrieked, flailing to get away, but he was laughing too hard to actually hold you down. He wasn’t expecting you to tackle him in return, sending both of you rolling down the slope in a tangle of limbs and snowboards. When you finally came to a stop, he was flat on his back, breathless and grinning, your body sprawled across his.

“You’re a menace,” he muttered.

“You started it.”

His arms wrapped lazily around your waist, pulling you closer as he smirked up at you. “You know, you’re actually kinda cute when you’re bad at things.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks so much.”

He just laughed, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your lips. It was freezing out here, but the second his lips touched yours, warmth spread through you like fire. He kissed you slow, lazy, as if you had all the time in the world. When he finally pulled back, his nose brushed against yours, and he whispered, “Come on, let’s try again. I won’t let you fall this time.”

And he didn’t. He stood behind you, his arms steadying your waist as he guided you down the slope, murmuring quiet encouragements every time you wobbled. His patience, his gentle laughter, the way he held you every time you almost fell—it made the frustration melt away.

By the end of the day, you were still far from good, but you managed to make it down the slope without face-planting. Jisung held his arms out dramatically at the bottom, waiting for you. “Look at my baby, a pro already.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving at his chest. “Liar.”

But he just pulled you against him, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m serious. I’m proud of you.”

His voice was so soft, so sincere, that your heart melted right there in his arms.

That night, after a long hot shower and a dinner you barely had the energy to finish, the two of you curled up in front of the fireplace, wrapped in the same blanket, your head resting against his shoulder. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your thigh, and every now and then, he’d press a kiss to your hair, murmuring sweet things that made you smile.

“Best trip ever,” he mumbled sleepily.

“You say that now,” you teased. “Wait till I make you go ice skating tomorrow.”

He groaned. “You’re really trying to kill me.”

“Payback, baby.”

He chuckled, squeezing your hand. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t mind.”

The next evening, after another day of playing in the snow and eating way too much hot chocolate, Jisung insisted on taking you outside to see the northern lights. Wrapped in thick coats and scarves, you stood outside your cabin, the world around you bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. The colors swirled across the sky—greens, purples, and blues dancing like magic.

Jisung was quiet beside you, his gloved fingers intertwined with yours.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

He turned his head slightly, his gaze soft. “Yeah… it is.”

You caught the way he was looking at you, and warmth spread through your chest. “You’re not even looking at the sky, you sap.”

He grinned. “Can you blame me?”

Your face burned despite the cold. You nudged him playfully, but he just pulled you closer, his lips pressing against your forehead. “I wish I could stop time,” he murmured. “Just stay here with you forever.”

You sighed, squeezing his hand. “We have right now. That’s enough for me.”

He smiled, like you’d just said the most important thing in the world, and kissed you again—slow, lingering, as if trying to memorize the shape of your lips.

The next day, your muscles were sore, and Jisung suggested something more relaxing—a visit to the resort’s heated indoor pool.

“I just wanna float and do nothing,” he announced as he dragged you along.

The pool was quiet, the dim lighting and warm steam making it feel secluded, intimate. You slid into the water, sighing in relief as the heat soothed your sore muscles. Jisung followed, stretching his arms along the edge, his damp hair falling into his eyes as he watched you with a lazy smirk.

“You’re staring,” he teased.

You swam closer, running your fingers through his wet hair. “Can you blame me?”

His hands found your waist under the water, pulling you effortlessly against him. The weightlessness of the pool made it easy to press against his chest, to feel the warmth of his skin.

“You know,” he murmured, voice dropping slightly, “I think this might be my favorite part of the trip.”

You raised an eyebrow. “The pool?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No. Just… being here with you. Having you all to myself.” His fingers traced slow, teasing circles along your hips. “I missed you.”

Your breath hitched slightly as his hands roamed your sides, his touch growing firmer. “I’m right here.”

His dark eyes locked onto yours. “Not close enough.”

And then he kissed you—deeper, hungrier. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you tighter against him, and you gasped softly against his lips.

The warmth of the water wasn’t the only thing making you dizzy. It was the way his lips moved against yours, the way his fingers pressed into your skin, the way he exhaled shakily when you rolled your hips ever so slightly, feeling the undeniable hardness pressing against you beneath the water.

Jisung groaned softly, his forehead resting against yours. “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

You smirked, pressing another slow, teasing kiss to his lips. “Then let’s not get caught.”

And just like that, whatever restraint he had left snapped.

His hands slid lower, gripping your thighs as he lifted you against him, pressing you back against the smooth edge of the pool. Your breath hitched as his mouth trailed down your neck, hot and insistent, his fingers gripping your waist as if he never wanted to let go.

“You’re really testing me right now,” he murmured, his lips brushing along your collarbone.

You tangled your fingers in his wet hair, tugging slightly. “Then don’t hold back.”

You lean into him, your breasts pressing against his chest as your heart races from the thrill of the moment. The water sloshes gently against the sides of the pool, echoing the rhythm of your accelerating breaths. Jisung's eyes darken with desire as he reads the unspoken invitation in your gaze.

He slides his hand up to cup your face, guiding it to the side, exposing the tender skin of your neck. His teeth graze your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "You're mine, baby." His other hand snakes between your thighs, the warmth of his palm stark against the coolness of the water. His fingers dance around the fabric of your swimsuit, teasing the damp material until you're squirming in anticipation.

With a swift move, Jisung pushes your swimsuit aside to reveal your slick folds. His eyes lock onto yours as he slides two fingers inside you, his thumb finding your clit. You bite your lower lip, trying to muffle the moan that wants to escape, but the feel of his fingers inside you is too intense to keep quiet. He grins, knowing the effect he has on you, and presses his hand over your mouth. "Shh, baby, we've got to be quiet."

You nod, your eyes wide with arousal. His thumb circles your clit with just the right amount of pressure as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you. The water splashes gently against your skin, the heat from your bodies mixing with the steam in the air. You wrap your legs around his waist tighter, urging him closer, silently begging for more.

Jisung's mouth trails down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses as he works you closer to the edge. His teeth nip at your skin, and you can feel the desperation in the way your hips rock against his hand. He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your cheek, and whispers, "So greedy." He swipes his thumb over your clit with more force, and you bite down on your lip to keep from crying out.

His free hand moves to the tie of your swimsuit top, tugging it loose with a gentle urgency. Your breasts spilling as he wastes no time in capturing one in his mouth, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak as you arch your back in pleasure. The sensation of his mouth on your sensitive skin while his fingers work their magic inside you is almost too much to handle. You whimper against his palm, your eyes fluttering shut.

He releases your breast with a pop, his breath hot against your skin. "You're so fucking perfect," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. His thumb continues its relentless torture on your clit as he adds a third finger, stretching you open. You gasp, your eyes shooting open to meet his, the intensity of the moment reflected in his gaze.

Jisung's thumb presses down on your mouth harder, silencing you as he picks up the pace of his strokes. You're so close, your legs quivering around his waist. You wrap your arms around his neck, your nails digging into his skin, trying to keep yourself anchored as the pleasure starts to build into something unbearable.

And then, with one final, deep plunge of his fingers, you come apart, your body convulsing against him. He doesn't stop, though—he just keeps going, drawing out every last shudder until you're boneless in his arms. You lean your forehead against his, panting heavily, trying to regain control of your breathing.

"Good girl," he whispers, his voice thick with satisfaction. "So fucking good."

He withdraws his hand, watching as you catch your breath, your chest heaving from the force of your climax. He takes your hand and places it over his crotch, showing you the hard evidence of his own desire. "It's your turn, baby."

With trembling fingers, you untangle his trunks, freeing his thick erection. The water ripples around it, and you can't resist taking him in your hand, stroking him gently. Jisung's eyes close, his head tilting back as he hisses in a sharp breath. "Yeah, like that," he murmurs, his voice low and needy.

You lean in to kiss him again, your hand working in a steady rhythm, feeling him swell even more in your grip. His hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, holding you close as you explore each other's mouths, the taste of chlorine and mint mingling on your tongues. He whispers your name, and it's like a prayer, a curse, a declaration of war.

But then he stops you, pulling away slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Baby," he says, his voice strained with need. "I want to fuck you. Properly."

He sets you down gently, turning you around so that your stomach is pressed against the cool tiles of the pool wall. Your palms flatten against the slick surface, your legs spread wide as he steps up behind you. The water laps at your skin, adding a delicious friction as he lines himself up with your soaking wet entrance.

You gasp as he pushes in, his cock stretching and filling you completely. The sensation is intense, the water adding a unique element to the experience. His hands come down to grip your hips, holding you steady as he starts to thrust in and out of you. Each movement sends waves rippling through the water, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the quiet pool area.

Jisung's breath is hot against your ear, his voice a harsh whisper. "You're so tight, baby. So wet for me." His teeth graze your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine as he fucks you deeper, harder as you bite back a moan.

With one hand still firmly around your hip, he reaches up with the other, his fingers wrapping around your throat. Not too tight, just enough to make you gasp, to remind you of who's in control. You love it, the way he owns you, the way he makes you feel like you're the only thing that matters in the world. He squeezes slightly, his grip like a brand, and you feel yourself clench around him.

"You like that?" he asks, his voice low and gruff. You nod, unable to speak as he continues to fuck you against the pool wall. His strokes are long and deep, his hips slapping against your ass as he drives into you. You're lost in sensation, the heat of his hand on your throat mixing with the coolness of the water on your back, the friction of his cock inside you setting your body on fire.

And then it happens. The word slips out, unbidden and unplanned, a gasped "Daddy," that seems to echo through the quiet pool. Jisung stills for a moment, his eyes wide with shock and lust. He tightens his grip on your hip, his cock pulsing inside you, and you feel him grow even harder. "Again," he commands, his voice low and demanding. "Call me Daddy again."

You hesitate, the word feeling so naughty and wrong, yet so incredibly right in this moment. He leans in closer, his breath hot on your neck. "Do it." So you do, letting the word tumble from your lips in a breathless whisper, "Daddy."

Jisung's reaction is instant. His grip on your hip tightens, his strokes becoming more urgent, his cock swelling even more inside you. The sound of the water splashing against the tiles turns into a symphony of desire, punctuated by his deep, animalistic groans. The way he fucks you now is possessive, claiming, like he's branding you with every thrust. And you love it, the feeling of him stretching you open, filling you so completely that you can't help but push back, taking him even deeper.

His hand moves from your throat to cover your mouth, muffling the sounds you can't hold in anymore. "That's my little slut," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. The words are dirty, but they only serve to turn you on even more, making you wetter, making you want to scream his name. You bite down on his palm, your nails digging into his skin as your orgasm builds, the pressure in your belly coiling tighter and tighter.

You feel his hand leave your mouth, and before you can take a breath, he's twisting your head back so that you're staring up at the ceiling, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck. "You're so fucking perfect," he growls. "So sweet, so tight. I can't get enough of you." His strokes are erratic now, driven by pure need as he fucks you against the pool wall. You can feel his release getting closer, his cock pulsing and jerking inside you.

You bite down on your lip, trying to hold back your own moan as you feel your climax approaching. The tension coils in your belly, tightening until you can't take it anymore. "Jisung," you pant, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm... I'm going to come."

He grins against your skin, his teeth grazing your neck. "Do it, baby," he murmurs, his hips thrusting into you with renewed vigor. "Cum for me."

The words are like a trigger. You can feel the orgasm building, the pressure in your core growing unbearable. You try to keep quiet, but as it washes over you, you can't help the loud, guttural moan that escapes your lips. Jisung's hand quickly covers your mouth, stifling the sound as your body convulses around him.

He doesn't let up, his own climax right on the edge. His hips slam into you, the water splashing around you like a storm at sea. You're lost in the sensation of him, his cock pulsing and releasing inside you. You feel the warmth of his cum filling you up, mixing with the water, marking you as his. It's a primal, raw moment, and you love every second of it.

He pulls out slowly, the loss making you whine. But before you can miss him too much, he turns you to face him, lifting you into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he carries you out of the pool, not caring about the wet footprints you leave behind. Your skin is flushed, your breathing still ragged as he sets you down on one of the lounge chairs, the fabric cool against your back.

Jisung grabs a towel and dries you off, his eyes never leaving yours as he gently wipes away the droplets of water. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice filled with awe. You blush, feeling more exposed than you did when you were naked in the water.

He sits down next to you, his hand finding yours, threading his fingers through them. "You okay?" he asks, his thumb rubbing circles on your palm.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. "More than okay." You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. For a moment, you just sit there, listening to the quiet sounds of the pool while enjoying each others company.

Minutes had gone by as you and Jisung lounged by the pool, wrapped up in each other and the blissful night air, everything felt peaceful. His fingers lazily traced patterns on your arm, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling completely content.

Until you heard voices.

“Who the hell is out here having sex?!”

Your eyes shot open just in time to see two older hotel staff members storming into the pool area, their faces twisted in outrage.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, your stomach dropping.

Jisung blinked, still a little dazed, until one of them pointed directly at you both.

“There! It’s them!”

Jisung didn’t hesitate. “Nope. Absolutely not.”

Before you could even react, he scooped you up bridal style and took off sprinting toward the elevators.

“Sir! Miss! You need to stop right now!” one of the staff members yelled, their footsteps pounding after you.

“Oh my God, they’re actually chasing us!” you wheezed, gripping onto Jisung’s shoulders as he ran.

“I KNOW,” he gasped, half-laughing, half-panicking.

The sight of the elevators ahead fueled his desperation. “Hold on, baby, I got this.”

With an Olympic-level burst of speed, he skidded to a stop, frantically jabbing the button as the staff got closer.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon—”

Ding!

The doors slid open, and Jisung leapt inside, spinning around just as the staff nearly reached you.

“Better luck next time, grandpas!” he shouted dramatically, mashing the close button.

“DON’T YOU DARE—”

Ding!

The doors shut just in time.

Silence.

Then, the two of you collapsed against the elevator walls, panting and gasping for air.

“Oh my God,” you wheezed, still processing what just happened.

Jisung turned to look at you, wide-eyed. Then, at the same time, you burst out laughing, clutching your stomachs as the adrenaline wore off.

“That was—insane,” you giggled.

“That was the most terrifying moment of my life,” Jisung said, still breathless, “but also so worth it.”

The elevator doors opened to your floor, and Jisung, still giddy, picked you up again and ran to your room.

“No more running!” you shrieked through laughter as he kicked the door open, practically diving inside before shutting it behind him.

You both collapsed onto the bed, still giggling uncontrollably. Jisung turned to you, eyes twinkling, and let out a breathless laugh.

“Well,” he said, “definitely the best vacation ever.”

You grinned, heart full. “Agreed.”

And with that, he leaned in, pulling you into a kiss—sealing the night as one neither of you would ever forget.

…..………………………………..:><:………………………………………….

{Anon request 🦩}

[guptalok]

How to trade using Double Top and Double Bottom Patterns?

There are plenty of indicators and strategies to make the trading decisions such as VWAP, Moving Average Crossovers, Stochastic, RSI, MACD, etc. A few of these indicators are said leading indicators for showing early signs for an entry while the others are called lagging indicators which signal for an entry a little later. You might also like: What is Intraday Trading? The leading and lagging…

[meganegatari]

pool/beach day w/ ellie thoughts! source of pondering: i was in the pool and am never not thinking about ellie so…this is very much insane projecting LOL. (like projecting to the level of this was literally how i spent the last few hours but am writing as if it's ellie…with creative expansions obvi.) informal format, basically just thinking and not a fr story iykwim. closer to headcanons? I DON'T KNOW JUST A SHITTY YAP OF SORTS OK. loser!ellie kindaaa, jesse cameo, teeny suggestive mentions if you squint.

pool (or beach, either work) day with ellie, how fun!! let's start with her fit. she'd wear plaid swim trunks with a sports bra style bikini top, unbuttoned short sleeve button up shirt on top when out of the water, all pieces of her outfit totally different, clashing patterns. yet she somehow rocks it. and when she's in the water, she wears swim goggles because of course. she'd love wearing her outfit, and “f-boy” coded ellie would hike her bottoms down just enough so her happy trail would peek out perfectly, because she knew all the girls would drool at the sight. you included. (who wouldn't.)

in the water however, she'd be a nuisance like none other, literally turning into a teen boy. splashing you like crazy, goofing around until there's so much water in her nose you're sure you can hear it sloshing around inside her skull. at times you'd even have to act like her mother, yelling at her to reapply her sunscreen so her delicate skin didn't burn to a crisp. she finds this absolutely hilarious.

“ellie, you're gonna turn into a lobster, get over here!” you toss the bottle in the air and catch it, a fed-up look on your face. she stands up and shakes the water off her body as if she's a dog, then strides over to you, snatching the sunscreen out of your hand. she rolls her eyes, and you can clearly hear the smirk in her tone. “ugh, sorry mom. i bet i'd be delicious as a lobster though.” she chuckles at her stupid joke, a husky “heh”, but then doubles over laughing even harder once she sees your stone-cold expression not crack in the slightest. in the most bored, deadpan voice you could muster, “you taste fine as-is, dork.” cue her face turning as bright red as a freshly boiled lobster once the rebuttal properly registers in her mind. you = 1, ellie = 0.

you'd be over there away from the water on a towel trying to get some vitamin d, or hidden away in the shade with a book and cocktail with one of the tiny umbrellas in it, but your els would want you there with her, and try to drag you in the water.

as she grabs your arm to pull you to your feet, “c'mon babe, get in. just for a little bit, how aren't you bored over there?” when you don't move, she attacks your neck with cold, wet smooches, the temperature of her lips a shock against your hot, dry skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all over. finally you'd comply, following her while she's pulling you in. “see, look how nice it is!” a grin so wide it melts your insides, you can't be mad at her, and you find a floaty to lay on. you can do some relaxation like that. but ellie, she insists to be close to you at all times, and finds a floaty to lay on next to yours. can't forget she's still holding your hand, you both look like two little otters floating down a stream, swept away on beds of seaweed, hand in hand.

as you're listening to the sounds of the water around you, the gentle rocking as a gust of wind passes by, you feel ellie's grip on your hand go limp, and you look over at her to see the fucker's dead asleep. “hey, ellie?” you ask, and are met with silence, her head lolled to the side with her mouth slightly open, she was out cold. it seems all that silly splashing around had made her tired, and that in combination with the comforting, warm environment had rocked her to sleep. you float there next to her peacefully for a short while, resting your eyes. then out of nowhere, you hear her yelp, and sit up to see that her friend, jesse, had made an appearance and threw a volleyball at her, which hit her smack-dab in the face. “what the fuck man!” he's looking smug, proud of his aim, and waves hi to you. ellie throws the ball back at him, but unfortunately she misses. and by a long shot at that, seems she was still drowsy. you're tuning them out and have returned to floating in relaxation, vaguely hearing them yelling profanities and “your mom” jokes to each other. in no time at all ellie bolts out of the water and dashes over to him, and you take a deep breath, happy to get some quiet, but also enjoying watching them from afar as they toss the ball around. ellie gestures for you to join them, to which you yell to her that you'll join in a bit, watching from the sidelines was proving to be better entertainment than you thought it would be, you loved observing her athletic form, whatever she's doing.

and so the evening continues like that, you two make it back home as it gets dark, and crash into bed immediately. bla bla bla...

yeah i dunno. had to write SOMETHING don't yell at me if it's crap idrc. ig i shall tag peeps anyway cuz that's what yall do! wrote while listening to tsp, especially 1979 which is a very summery song imo. sunset drives with friends blasting that song...UGHHHH

everything everything: @andersonfilms @fleshunger @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2

ellie everything: @flowrmoth @srooch @liddysflyer @fortune777

wanna be tagged in my fics? fill out the form!

[tysonrooney06]

Shifting Averages

Price crossovers can be combined to trade within the larger trend. The longer moving common sets the tone for the bigger trend and the shorter shifting common is used to generate the indicators. One would search for bullish value crosses only when prices are already above the longer shifting common. For Breakout trading , if value is above the 200-day transferring common, chartists would only give attention to alerts when worth strikes above the 50-day shifting average. The calculation is extra advanced, as it applies more weighting to the latest prices. A shifting average is commonly used with time collection data to clean out short-term fluctuations and highlight longer-term developments or cycles. The threshold between short-term and long-term depends on the applying, and the parameters of the moving common will be set accordingly. It can be utilized in economics to look at gross domestic product, employment or other macroeconomic time series. Mathematically, a shifting common is a type of convolution and so it may be seen for example of a low-pass filter used in signal processing. When used with non-time sequence knowledge, a shifting common filters greater frequency elements with none particular connection to time, although usually some sort of ordering is implied.

A bullish cross occurs when the 5-day EMA moves above the 35-day EMA on above-average quantity.

One attribute of the SMA is that if the data has a periodic fluctuation, then applying an SMA of that interval will get rid of that variation .

Flash is an advanced trading algorithm that combines three powerful indicators to...

In basic, a transfer towards the higher band suggests the asset is turning into overbought, while a transfer near the lower band suggests the asset is becoming oversold.

With IG, you'll be able to entry transferring averages on our charts, as properly as different technical tools like Bollinger bands and RSI.

A shifting common simplifies worth data by smoothing it out and creating one flowing line. Exponential transferring averages react quicker to cost changes than simple transferring averages. In some cases, this can be good, and in others, it could trigger false alerts. Moving averages with a shorter look-back period will also respond quicker to cost modifications than a mean with a longer look-back period . The 50-day simple moving average, which is certainly one of three main transferring averages, is broadly utilized by traders and analysts to determine support and resistance levels for a range of securities.

Palantir Technologies Inc (pltr) Just Flashed Golden Cross Sign: Do You Buy?

To create a moving common, each day we’ll drop the last day in the time-frame and add today’s. When a brief interval SMA crosses above a long interval SMA, you might need to go lengthy. You may wish to go brief when the short-term SMA crosses again beneath the long-term SMA. When costs cross above the SMA, you may want to go long or cowl short; once they cross below the SMA, you might want to go brief or exit lengthy.

If the traces are running in parallel, this means a robust development. If the ribbon is expanding , this means the development is coming to an finish. If the ribbon is contracting , this will indicate the beginning of a model new trend. Another choice which boils down to the trader’s preference is which kind of Moving Average to make use of. While all of the various varieties of Moving Averages are rather comparable, they do have some variations that the dealer should pay consideration to. For example, the EMA has a lot much less lag than the SMA and subsequently turns faster than the SMA.

What Does A Shifting Common Chart Inform You?

Average Vs Weighted AverageIn Excel, the words common and weighted average are totally different. A weighted average, on the opposite hand, is a mean calculated in the same means but with a weight multiplied with each knowledge set. Since it isn't a one-size-fits-all phenomenon, completely different gamers out there use totally different versions of it for various purposes. Some use transferring common trading strategy, some simply want to perceive the trend of the market, and a few analysts use to hold out a detailed evaluation.

By default, 20 periods are used to calculate the Simple Moving Average. However, since P&F transferring averages are double smoothed, a shorter moving common may be most popular when inserting this overlay on a P&F chart. If you're taking the two Moving Averages setup that was discussed within the earlier section and add in the third element of worth, there is one other kind of setup known as a Price Crossover. With a Price Crossover you start with two Moving Averages of various term lengths .

This indicator not solely tracks the EMA and ATR but also plots these levels as help and resistance traces,... The only distinction here is that it makes use of solely closing numbers, whether inventory prices or balances of accounts and so on. So, the first step is to collect the information of the closing numbers after which divide that number by the period in question, which could probably be from day 1 to day 30, etc.

[taurusdesign]

"Our Little Ones" Collection

Hi beloved simmers!

I'm finally here. I'm sorry the set is delayed again. When I look at your supportive comments, although these delays are not a problem for you, I still feel bad. 

The set contains a total of 50 items for infants, toddlers, kids and pets. Although there are mostly items for kids, there are also a nice amount of items for the rest. I also tried to do elements on the set that I hadn't seen on the sim before. It's like a Pillow Fort, a Tea Party Set, a Pet House that can be embedded in the wall. I would have loved to have made the tea party functional. But it's functional as a dollhouse. So it might look like your little sims are having a tea party with their toys.

My inspiration on the set was the Pottery Barn's Catalina set. Of course, since everything I wanted was not available in this set, I designed many things myself.

The items included in the set are below:

Babies (Infants and Toddlers)

2 types of Toddler Beds

Bedding for Toddler Beds

2 types of Cribs

Changing Station

Drawer Chest

Dresser

Extra-Wide Dresser

High Chair

Nightstand

Potty Chair

Rocking Chair (Growing Together Required)

Wall Mirror

Kids

4 types of Single Beds

4 types of Double Beds

2 types of Bunk Beds *

Bedding for Single Beds

Bedding for Double Beds

Bedding for Bunk Beds *

Bookcase

2 types of Books for Bookcase

Chair with Backpack

Desk Storage

Desk Storage with Hutch

Desk Storage with Smart Hutch

Decor for Desk Storage with Hutch

Writing Desk

Dresser

Nightstand

Shelves

Skateboard with Books

Tea Party Set

Toy Box

Pillow Fort ** (Dream Home Decorator Required)

Wardrobe

Pets (Cats and Dogs Required)

Pets Bowl ***

Cat Tree

Pet House

Litter Box

Pet Bed ****

Scratch Post

* If the bunks cannot be used by your sim, please place them as follows.

1. Place top bunk bedding

2. Place bottom bedding

3. Place frames

** I recommend that you reduce the size by 1 when placing the pillow fort. You can also use the normal size. Fully optional. 

*** When you fill the food into the pet bowl, the bowl on the far right fills with water.

**** I wanted to make this item in pet size, but it became a regular loveseat size. I don't know how it happened.

I hope you like it and it's worth the wait. 💖💖💖

Special thanks to one of my favorite CC creator @myshunosun for fabric texture ❤️

Bedding patterns:

Kids Pattern Vectors by Vecteezy

Animals Vectors by Vecteezy

Animals Vectors by Vecteezy

Animals Vectors by Vecteezy

Animals Vectors by Vecteezy

Animals Vectors by Vecteezy

Animals Vectors by Vecteezy

Summer Pattern Vectors by Vecteezy

Animals Vectors by Vecteezy

Public Release: October 9, 2023

AVAILABLE FOR EVERYONE!

DOWNLOAD AT:

CURSEFORGE

PATREON