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#Long Island Concrete
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Advantages of Having a Retaining Wall.
1. PROTECTS PROPERTY AGAINST FLOODING Any sloped area that causes water to pond or puddle at the base of your property needs to be addressed. If your property has a slope that contours towards the structure, it will likely need a special drainage system that directs water flow away from the building. A retaining wall’s main purpose is to facilitate that drainage system by controlling how much…
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soillodge · 1 year
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Nassau University Medical Center
Dynamic Care building by Urbahn Architects
Original photo by J Conrad Williams Jr
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Terrazzo polishing companies Long Island NY
Elevate your space with Old Stone Restoration & Installation, the premier Terrazzo polishing company between Terrazzo polishing companies Long Island NY. Our expert team brings out the stunning brilliance of your Terrazzo surfaces. Explore our services today!
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harborrestoration · 12 days
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Hire Premier Roofing And Restoration Company In New York City
Harbor Restoration is your premier roofing and restoration company serving New York City and surrounding areas. We pride ourselves on our quality services, which are led by a team with experience and expertise to handle just about anything regarding roofing. From simple roof restoration jobs to general repairs, we have your back. With years of experience and expertise, we are the go-to choice for all your roofing and restoration needs in NYC. Now, look deeper into our services and how we can help you.
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Roof restoration is a critical service in extending the life span of the roof and shielding your building from possible damages. At Harbor Restoration, it is important to note that we are aware of the importance of a well-maintained roof and strive to deliver top-quality restoration services. With the latest techniques and equipment, we can provide restorations so that your roof not only looks great but is also durable, strong, and resistant to harsh weather conditions. We don't just repair the obvious damages but trace and fix the root cause of them so they won't return anytime soon. Our roof restoration service in NYC is something you can surely rely on when it comes to a good outcome for your roof.
Sick of searching for roofing and restoration near me in NYC? Look no further because at Harbor Restoration, we are conveniently located in the heart of the city, and all it takes is one phone call from you. Our team is always ready to respond to your roofing emergency with quick and effective services. Well, yes, it is a fact that a leaked roof can bring discomfort and possibly be dangerous. That is why we offer timely and professional roofing and restoration services in your area. Be it large or small, simple or complicated, we boast experience to accomplish the job with precision and care.
With a highly experienced team in repair and restoration works of all kinds of roofs, including in Long Island City, we value your roof as highly important in your structure and, therefore, take great care in offering high-quality repairs and restorations. Our staff puts extra effort into restoring your roof to its original status and making it more durable and strong.
At Harbor Restoration, we value our work and are committed to giving our customers the very best services. We use high-quality materials and strictly adhere to industry standards in implementing our work to ensure the highest quality and durability. Our team is also complimented with state-of-the-art equipment and techniques; thus, we can ensure that services are rendered with utmost efficiency and effectiveness. Our belief in building long-term relationships and trust with our clientele is something for which customer satisfaction comes first among all other priorities.
Don't wait until it is too late; contact us today at (718) 866-4000 and tap into the experience of Harbor Restoration. Visit our website at https://harborrestoration.com/
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Beach Style Pool
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Pool - large coastal backyard concrete paver and custom-shaped natural pool idea
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skyline561 · 1 year
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Paving and Masonry Services Long Island
Looking for top-quality paving and masonry services in stoops long island? Look no further! our team of experts is here to provide you with exceptional craftsmanship and outstanding results. Whether you need paving, stoops, concrete driveways, asphalt driveways, patios, roofing, walkways, or driveway aprons, we have the expertise to handle all your needs.
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When it comes to paving, we take pride in delivering durable and attractive solutions. Our skilled professionals use the latest techniques and high-quality materials to ensure long-lasting results. Whether you're looking to pave a residential driveway, commercial parking lot, or any other surface, we can handle projects of all sizes with precision and efficiency. Our attention to detail and commitment to customer satisfaction sets us apart from the competition.
Stoops are not just functional; they can enhance the aesthetic appeal of your property. We specialize in designing and constructing stunning stoops that complement your home or business. Our team will work closely with you to understand your vision and create a customized stoop that adds beauty and value to your property. From traditional designs to modern styles, we have the expertise to bring your ideas to life.
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mockinqay · 1 year
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Contemporary Kitchen Dallas Large trendy l-shaped medium tone wood floor open concept kitchen photo with an undermount sink, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, multicolored backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island and white countertops
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Diamond Paving and Masonry | Masonry Contractor | Asphalt Company in Long Island NY
Ours is a leading Asphalt Company in Long Island NY. Known for superior craftsmanship, we specialize in asphalt paving for commercial and residential clients. From driveways to parking lots, we deliver durable and aesthetically pleasing surfaces that stand the test of time. Our team of experienced professionals uses state-of-the-art equipment and premium materials to ensure the highest quality results. Moreover, we also have a well-earned reputation as the most trusted Masonry Contractor in Shirley NY. Whether it's building stunning patios, walkways, or retaining walls, our artisans combine traditional methods with modern designs to create beautiful, long-lasting structures. So, if you need our expert assistance, give us a call today.
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roofingbronx · 1 year
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Concrete Repair Long Island
At R Luis Contracting, we provide a wide range of home renovations and contracting services, including concrete work. Concrete work is a critical component of many home renovation projects, as it provides a strong and durable base for a variety of structures, including driveways, patios, foundations, and retaining walls.
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libertyfence · 1 year
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Custom white aluminum railings for front steps we recently installed in New Hyde Park, NY.
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Commercial Gunite Pool Contractors.
Gunite Pool Renovations or Concrete Pool Renovations Stone Creations has you covered. http://www.stonecreationsoflongisland.net Office : (631) 678-6896 http://www.stonecreationsoflongisland.net At Stone Creations of Long Island Pavers and Masonry Corporation, our goal is to not only help you design and build your outdoor or indoor project, but to make the process easy and enjoyable for you.…
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lordprettyflackotara · 4 months
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fill the void || fred weasley
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SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+
It felt odd in a way, being alone for the first time.
Usually you were surrounded by your fellow Slytherins, the smell of cigarettes and cologne something your nostrils had grown accustomed to. The sound of vicious insults or bitter rants making a nest in your ears. The sight of scowls with liquor in their hands, their knuckles typically bruised and bloody.
But right now, all of that was gone. The air in the courtyard was clean, the breeze blowing past you providing you with the smell of the earth. Your sights were centered on a giant oak tree, as well as the moon that dimly illuminated the area below. It was an odd change, your surroundings being so settled. You couldn’t help but wonder what you would’ve become if you hadn’t been placed in Slytherin. Maybe yellow would’ve suited you better.
It wasn’t that you despised your housemates, even if they were a group of misfit toys. Mattheo protected you, Theo tutored you, Draco was always glued to your side. It wasn’t them that troubled you. It was what wearing the sickening shade of green meant. Submission to the dark lord. Following the ideology of pureblood nonsense. Especially being one of the only prominent girls, there was always the lingering question who’d you marry and reproduce with.
Yuck.
“Am I interrupting?”
You didn’t need to turn around. You’d recognize a Weasley’s voice anywhere. “Unfortunately not,” You admitted. You hated to admit you knew which Weasley twin it was, a lanky Fred Weasley plopping down beside you on the concrete steps. He stretched out his long legs, mere inches separating both of you. “Is there a reason you’re perched out here instead of doing shots with your friends?” Fred asked. How could you explain why? Oh yes, I am having an existential crisis because of the fact my dress is emerald. Want to go inside and split a chocolate frog?
“Where’s your other half? Didnt think you two separated,” You quipped, brushing off his question. Fred took the hint, leaning back on his hands. “Currently snogging Angelina Johnson,” He answered. This caught your attention, your head snapping to look over at him. “The chaser that wiped the floor with Blaise last season?” You asked. Sometimes you forgot how small this dreaded University actually was. Fred nodded, shrugging. “Aggressive on and off the field, just the way George likes em,” He replied.
You snorted. “Ahh yes. Makes sense a Weasley would enjoy being slutted out,” You snickered. It was too easy of a jab. Fred began to man spread, his long legs in your personal bubble. “I wouldn’t be so hasty little serpent. A few of us know how to put a brat in their place,” He smirked. The cocky motherfucker winked, heat dashing across your cheeks. You must be in a different dimension. There’s no bloody way a Weasley made you blush. “You’re cute when you blush,” Fred praised. He couldn’t help but notice how good you looked in the moonlight, the beams highlighting your features.
“Are you complimenting me Weasley?” You questioned. You avoided his gaze, trying to ignore the fact your heart skipped a beat. “Obviously not, i’m flirting with you,” Fred replied, unable to control the smile creeping across his lips. You were just so easy to tease. “What makes you think you can flirt with me?” You asked, turning your head to look over at the ginger. He shrugged, meeting your firey gaze with ease. “Perhaps it’s because we’re in the same boat, sitting out here alone in a bloody courtyard while the yule ball is less than five hundred feet away,” Fred explained. You audibly scoffed. “Weasley’s can’t afford a boat,” You spat.
Fred chuckled at your insult, your venom harmless to him. “Considering you’re out here I think it’s safe to say your boat has sank. Guess we’re on the same island together then,” He replied. You couldn’t help but find his facial expression smug. “Great,” You grumbled. You rested your chin on your knees, contemplating your life decisions. Fred sighed. “Well, if my presence really isn’t that valued i’ll relocate,” He said. He began to rise to his feet, your body doing a one eighty. You didn’t realize your hand was gripping his wrist until it was, desperately holding him in place.
“Sit down Weasley. I-,” You paused, looking up at the ginger. “I’d prefer it if you stayed.”
Fred grinned down at you mischievously, resuming his place beside you. “Figured you’d say that. Just wanted to hear you say it,” He gloated. You slapped his arm. “You’re unbearable. You know that don’t you?” You grumbled. Fred couldn’t help but laugh. Your annoyance was adorable. “You seem to like it,” He replied. You frowned as he stood up in front of you. “Do not,” You argued.
“Do too.”
“Do not!”
Fred extended his hand in front of you. The faint sound of classical music could be heard over the stillness, the wind having faded out. “Care to dance?” He asked. The choice was standing right in front of you, demanding an answer. You could say no and continue moping on the stairs. You could say no and go back inside, all eyes on you once again. Or you could say yes, potentially having a good time with a boy you didn’t belong with. Dancing with a Weasley? Draco would have a field day with this one. But Fred’s hand never looked more appealing than it did in that moment.
Hesitantly you took his hand, allowing him to bring you to your feet. Even in heels he easily towered over you, the ginger not hesitating to bring you close to his chest. “You know you can drop the bad girl act with me, I won’t tell,” Fred said, guiding you back and forth. You were an awkward dancer, despite the endless ballroom dancing classes your parents put you through. “It’s not an act,” You argue. Fred looked down at you, his face painted like he knew you. Like he could see right through your hollow shell.
“Sure it isn’t. And i’m not the best prankster in Hogwarts,” He quipped. You slowly spun you around, giving you time to catch up as you almost tripped in your heels. “You’ve really got quite an ego, don’t you Weasley?” You asked. Fred grinned as he pulled you back close to him. “Thats a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?” He asked. You glared up at him. “I think not,” You argued. Even though your words were laced with venom, you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed his touch.
So gentle but so assertive, guiding you. Your mind strayed away, imagining him guiding you a different way. Guiding you to take his cock, to ride him until the sun came up. “Hey? Are you listening little serpent?” Fred asked, his voice coming back into frame. You blinked a few times, trying to regain your composure. “Sorry, what?” You asked. Fred slowly guided the dance to a stop, the song ending. You couldn’t help but wish it’d last forever. “I was asking what you’re thinking about,” He said.
You could feel yourself turning red, your filthy thoughts flooding to the forefront of your mind. You felt tongue tied, unable to confess your dirty fantasies. “Ohh, I see,” Fred said. You couldn’t bear to look at him in the eye, embarrassed enough to be in this position. You felt his slender fingers slide under your chin, guiding you to look up at him. You allowed him to guide you, his eyes boring into yours. You liked that, allowing him to guide you. Even if he was supposed to be bad for you, his touch put you on cloud nine.
“Do you like that? When I guide you? Take control?” Fred asked, his voice dropping an octave lower than before. You could’ve dropped to your knees in an instant. “Maybe I do,” You replied, not wanting to cave, not just yet. Fred leaned down further, pressing his lips against yours. His lips were warmer than you thought they’d be, filling the void inside of you. The void that craved approval and validation. His lips provided all of that and more. He guided you towards the giant oak tree, pinning you against it.
The sharp bark scraped at your back, a groan escaping your lips as Fred’s refused to stray from yours. You raked your hands throw his hair, pulling at the roots roughly. Fred whined into your mouth, smirking as he pulled away. “Cute,” He murmured. His eyes flickered behind you, ensuring no one was around. “As much as i’d love to make you squirm, we can’t do much here,” He whispered. You pulled him back to your lips, sliding your tongue into his mouth. You couldn’t get enough, your body craving him.
“That eager, are we?” Fred asked, pulling you back in for another kiss. You gently bit his bottom lip, pulling it towards you. “Fuck me, at the very least Weasley,” You ordered weakly, your body betraying the attempt at dominance you were spewing. Fred grinned mischievously. “Turn around for me pretty girl,” He purred. You did as asked, his large hands pushing you against the tree. You could hear the clinking of his belt, your core throbbing in anticipation.
His large hands pushed up your dress, pulling your panties to the slide. “You’re lucky we’re in the courtyard, otherwise i’d make you beg and scream for me to fuck you,” Fred purred. You felt his tip brush up and down your folds, a moan escaping your lips. One of Fred’s hands flew to your mouth. “Gotta keep quiet little serpent. Dont want anyone to hear you being a whore for a Weasley, do you?” He taunted. He pushed himself inside of you slowly, your body feeling like it may split in two.
“You’re fuckin soaked for me,” Fred mused, placing a sloppy kiss against your shoulder. Your moans were muffled by his hand, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I’m bigger than Malfoy aren’t I?” He asked teasingly as he bottomed out inside of you. You grabbed onto his wrist, yanking it away from your mouth. “In your dreams Weasley,” You spat, whimpering as he bucked his hips ever so slightly. Fred began to suck at the side of your neck, harsh enough to leave a hickey. “Dont leave marks on me,” You argued, moaning as he began to thrust into you. Fred released your neck with a pop, satisfied as the skin began to turn purple.
“Whys that? Afraid your boy toys will find out you’ve let me in between your legs?” Fred asked, beginning to pick up the pace. His pace was brutal, his hand flying back over your mouth to muffle your sinful noises. “When they ask tell them. Tell them how I ruined you. How a Gryffindor made you cum in a courtyard like a dog in heat,” Fred huffed. He continued to viciously snap his hips into yours, his cock abusing your g spot with each thrust. You moaned his name into his hand, gripping one of his wrist and the tree for support.
“You’re so fucking tight, so perfect,” Fred groaned into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He removed his hand from your mouth, his hands taking their rightful place on your hips. “I’m going to make you cum on my cock. You understand me? You’re going make a mess for me,” Fred ordered. His orders were hypnotizing, your legs beginning to shake as he held onto the fabric of your dress. You could feel the knot inside of you tighten, a familiar feeling coming.
“Please make me cum Freddie, fucking please,” You pleaded, your orgasm coming faster than you’d like to admit. Fred chuckled, fucking you mercilessly against the tree. “There she is, there’s my sweet whore. Go on, cum for me,” He panted. You squeezed his wrist tightly as you came, euphoria washing over you as you came on his shaft. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out on you at any moment. You felt Fred’s hips stutter, the ginger pulling out of you.
He guided you onto the ground, your bare knees hitting the dirt below. You stuck out your tongue, allowing Fred to cum inside of your mouth. “Holy shit,” Fred moaned, watching as you swallowed every last top. You both sat there for a moment, your highs subsiding as you soaked in what you had just done.
“Hey y/n?”
“Yeah?”
“You wanna grab a butterbeer sometime?”
“Shut up Weasley.”
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Terrazzo restoration companies Long Island NY
Rediscover the beauty of your Terrazzo surfaces with Old Stone Restoration & Installation, one of your expert Terrazzo restoration company among Terrazzo restoration companies Long Island NY. Using our first-rate services, transform your home right now!
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harborrestoration · 5 months
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Protect Your Property with Premier Restoration and Roofing Services in Long Island City
Harbor Restoration is your premier choice for top-notch restoration and roofing services in Long Island City. Our commitment to excellence and years of expertise make us a trusted name in restoring the integrity of your property while ensuring a sturdy and reliable roof over your head.
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We understand the importance of a well-maintained roof in safeguarding your home or business, and our team of skilled professionals is equipped with the knowledge and tools necessary to handle a wide range of restoration projects, from minor repairs to full-scale renovations. Whether your roof has suffered damage from severe weather conditions or simply requires routine maintenance, we can deliver exceptional results that exceed your expectations.
Our Restoration and Roofing services in Long Island City encompass everything from assessing the extent of damage to executing thorough repairs and replacements with precision and efficiency. We use high-quality materials and advanced techniques to ensure long-lasting durability and optimal performance, giving you peace of mind knowing that your property is in capable hands.
What sets us apart from other restoration and roofing companies is our unwavering dedication to customer satisfaction. We prioritize open communication and transparency throughout every step of the process, keeping you informed and involved from start to finish. Our team works tirelessly to minimize disruption to your daily routine while delivering timely results that align with your budget and timeline.
Whether you're a homeowner, business owner, or property manager, Harbor Restoration is here to help you protect your investment and preserve the beauty and functionality of your property. With our unmatched expertise and commitment to excellence, you can trust us to deliver superior restoration and roofing services that stand the test of time.
Contact Harbor Restoration today at (718) 866-4000 and visit our website athttp://www.harborrestoration.com/ to learn more about how our services can benefit you. Let us be your trusted partner in restoring and maintaining the integrity of your property in Long Island City and beyond.
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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Part 1
Finally finished this! I think I put way too much pressure on myself to get this just right and it gave me some major writer's block. Anyway, please enjoy!
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Content: Wet dreams, Somnophilia (sort of), Identity Porn, Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy (through dreams), Uncomfortable Situation, Pushy/Predatory behavior (brief)
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“Bad dreams again?”
Drowsy and sluggish, you blink at your aunt. She’s as sleek and coiffed as always, pressed business attire and shiny hair. Shoulders back, spine straight. A woman people respect and heed without question.
Your mother’s voice whispers in your ear, that lovingly patronizing tone. See how professional she looks, dear? Isn’t that nice?
It’s not Aunt Katie’s fault though. She does look professional, and it is nice. It suits her.
You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth. “They’re not bad, really. Just… intense.”
She hums, elegant fingers tracing the edge of your borrowed desk. “They can’t be very good if they’re keeping you up.”
You’re tired enough that you almost correct her a second time. The problem is that the dreams are too good. You wake up panting, sweating, halfway to – well. You’re not about to discuss the finer points of a kinky wet dream with your CIA aunt. Besides, it’s silly to get so defensive of something that affects you seemingly negatively.
“Maybe,” you reply, rubbing at your heavy eyes. It feels like you’re trying to look through clear jelly.
“Why don’t you take a break?” Aunt Kate suggests.
You frown, a pang of guilt striking your empty tummy. “No… no, I’m okay. It’s not even lunch yet.”
She smiles at you. The same fond smile she’s always graced you with, on holidays and birthdays, whenever she could escape the secretive walls and red tape to be with family.
“You’re already ahead on paperwork. You’re not a bad employee for getting a little sun.”
Your eyes flick longingly to the door.
Apparently, the government doesn’t believe in things like windows or sunlight. Your little desk is at the very end of a long, half-empty hallway in the middle of a concrete cube and drowning in awful blue fluorescence. You can’t even bring yourself to drag a plant to this crappy little island because you’d feel too guilty putting it through this.
“Okay… maybe just for a few minutes,” you allow.
Her smile widens as she nods for you to follow. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out. I think the dogs will be free for some enrichment.”
Well, that certainly gets you out of your squeaky office chair.
Honey sunlight drizzles over your neck and shoulders, dripping syrupy-slow down your spine. It diffuses through your chest, chasing away the artificial chill of the office. The sleepy haze retreats like frost melting from glass.
You sigh into the fresh air, ignoring the tang of gunpowder lingering on the breeze, and turn your face to the sun. Summer is coming to an end, the heat broken into mellower warmth. There won’t be many days like this left before autumn bites down and shakes the leaves from the trees. A shame you’ll likely waste most of them in your administrative prison. 
The dogs stretch out in the grass around you, tongues lolling and eyes bright, keeping you company. A furry bouquet of black and tan in the manicured grass, their ears and tails like stalks to strange plants.
You bury your fingers in Zeus’s coat and get a fuzzy white tummy for your efforts. He’s a young and handsome thing, the newest addition to the K-9 unit, still a bit fluffy around the ears. You try not to think of how that will fade and harden, just like the older dogs in the unit, just like his human counterparts. Just scratch at that itchy spot by his ribs and smile when his hindleg kicks.
Friga stands and stretches on your right side, leaning her shoulder into yours. Then picks her way around the others to sniff at Zeus. Offended by her interruption, he flails onto his stomach and nips at her, one big forepaw thumping the ground.
She goads him into playtime, and you watch with the older pack members as they begin to romp. They tumble and grumble around you, heedless of bumping into any of the others. You laugh, bright and loud—
The back of your neck tingles.
You glance around, not even sure why. Until you see a figure across the field. He’s standing by the track where about two dozen men are jogging. Recruits, you guess. But he’s not observing them or barking orders. No, he’s clearly turned to face you. It’s too far to make out any features, apart from what seems to be an unusual haircut.
You quickly glance away, surreptitiously trying to determine if the man’s attention was on something else that happened to be in your direction. But there’s little else but you and the dogs in this field, the kennels noticeably off to the left.
Then again, someone sitting in the grass with half the K-9 unit is a bit unusual. He’s probably trying to decide if it’s something that needs investigation. You hope it’s not.
Still, you can’t shake the discomfiting sense that he’s looking at you.
You ignore him until it’s time for the dogs to go back - but that prickly feeling of being watched never subsides.
That night, in the guest room of your aunts’ house, the dreams take on new life.
It starts as it always does. A dark room. A lush bed. Silky sheets. Moonlight seeping through blinds like smoke. And him.
He’s behind you. A broad body so solid you’d think he was a wall if not for the heat. It’s so intense this time, like a wildfire raging out of control, crawling from his skin beneath yours. You sense more than feel the big hand around your jaw. Rough fingers clutch at the plush of your thigh. Hot breath fans across the back of your neck, rippling shivers down your spine.
There’s a voice in your ear. No words you can discern, just a thunder-deep rumble with smoky edges. Stubble scrapes the delicate skin of your neck and catches in your hair.
A thick, heavy cock is buried deep inside you, kissing the entrance to your womb. Your pussy twinges a sweet-sharp ache with each deliberate grind of his hips. He’s spreading you open to get as deep as he can, throbbing balls pressed up tight to your sopping entrance.
Your own hands are all but useless. One twists desperately in the sheets, the other clutches at the meaty swell of his ass. Pleasure upends anything like sense or thought, even hazy dream logic. There is just this man fucking you like he owns you, two of his fingers in your drooling mouth, petting your tongue. A ring clicks against your teeth.
“Found you,” he whispers.
You jolt, eyes flying open. The powder blue ceiling of your borrowed room greets you. You’ve kicked the cotton sheets into a tangled mess around your ankles, tiny shirt ridden up your chest. Your panties are soaked.
The taste of metal lingers behind your incisors.
It’s a busy day. For once, you’re free from the confines of your sad little nook. Aunt Kate must have taken pity on your sorry state the day before and has procured busy work. Files that need hand delivery, or physical reports for you to gather. You don’t care if it’s just something to get you out of the office, you relish the stolen moments outside between buildings.
If there’s a downside, it’s the glances you attract. Everything about you projects civilian, despite the access card prominently pinned to the lapel of your blazer. It draws curious once-overs at best and suspicious scans at worst – or speculative appreciation at the very worst. Every time a fresh-faced recruit or overly decorated middle-aged man lingers as you pass, you hear your mother’s voice again.
Don’t you know what those military men are like? Practically animals. I couldn’t possibly let you be exposed to them.
It’s long ingrained to keep your eyes forward, head level, and try to keep your hips from swaying as much as possible. You’re grateful for whatever bit of paperwork you can clutch to your chest, just to hide your figure and have something to do with your hands.
You’re picking up some personnel files from the infirmary, smile brightly at the receptionist as she passes them over. Mallory is only a couple years older than you, and she’s been working here a year already.
“Lunch in the mess today?” she asks, spinning a pen between her fingers.
“As if you even need to ask,” you tease. “Noon?”
“I’ll meet you there.”
She blows you a kiss as you leave, counting the number of files to be sure you have them all. Your eyes skim over one of the names, a white label on the folder fin. “MacTavish, J.” in blocky typewriter font. You shuffle them back into a neat stack and pivot for Aunt Kate’s office.
You’re not in the moonlit bedroom this time. A half-moon grins down from a starry sky, wearing smoky nebulas for lipstick. Beneath you lays cool grass and soft earth, rich and loamy in your heaving lungs. Petals blooming in the dark kiss your overheated skin, little relief for the burn in your veins.
The change in scenery is almost as dizzying as the man between your thighs. Almost.
But it’s not the dew-saturated breeze that muddles your bewildered thoughts. It’s the hot, wet, clever tongue lavishing your drenched pussy. He licks in broad stripes from your aching hole to your throbbing clit, only ever pausing to indulge a slow suck to the bundle of nerves, before resuming that hypnotic circuit.
One thigh is hooked over a wide shoulder, your heel dug into the flexing muscles of a broad back. The other is spread by a big, calloused hand, giving him unfettered access to the softest, neediest parts of you.
You mewl desperately, hand darting down to his bobbing head. Your nails scrape shorn stubble, eliciting a gravelly groan that sends electricity up your tingling spine. It’s nothing compared to the growl you earn when your fingers twist into the longer, soft strands at the top.
For the first time, you’re able to voice more than helpless moans and wanton whimpers.
“Please,” you sob softly, “please.”
You feel him smirking, a wicked curl against your fluttering cunt. Then he focuses the tip of that awful, dexterous tongue on your clit, flicking in purposeful little strokes.
M-A-
“S-so close,” you whine, hips twitching. He pins you flat, pace never faltering.
V-I-
You shudder as your pussy clenches and spasms, finally, finally—
You wake with a sharp sound, head spinning. Your orgasm washes away like the tide, leaving disappointment and exhaustion behind. You nearly scream into your pillow as you press your thighs together. Still half asleep, it even feels like you have beard-burn.
You’re in line at the mess with Mallory, listening to her complain about some rude colonel that just had to share his opinion about her acrylics. She does the best impressions, and you’re grinning and laughing as the two of you shuffle through the options. You’re reaching for a scoop of rice when the conversation behind you catches your attention.
“—came in a couple days ago.”
“The whole squad?”
“With Braveheart himself.”
A snort. “You better not let MacTavish hear you say that. He’ll—”
“Helloooo?” You blink at Mallory, who arches her brows and waves a bagel at you. “Want one?”
“Oh, uh… sure, why not,” you answer.
“Atta girl!” she cheers, tossing it in the toaster. “Carbs for days.”
You giggle but can’t help glancing behind you. The two men have already moved on though. Not that it was any of your business – or anything interesting. You’re not sure why that caught your attention. Men are just loud, you suppose, snatching a couple to-go packets of cream cheese.
As you’re leaving the mess, you happen to glance over your shoulder. A pair of sharp blue eyes catch yours from one of the tables. A group of men, just about to sit. Mallory tugs your shirt to keep you from clipping the doorjamb and you hurry after her.
There’s heat at your back. Not from a body this time, but a fire burning low and hot in a hearth. No, the body is in front of you this time, filling up your watery field of vision. Peachy skin and coarse dark hair, an old scar slashing across a sharp hip, miles of lean muscle.
Not that you have much opportunity to ogle with tears blurring your sight. The fat cock bullying the back of your throat makes it hard to do anything but choke. You dig your nails into a thick thigh and pull back, writhing your tongue along a puffy vein as you go. The leaking head rests on your drenched tongue as you catch your breath. Smoke and leather and musk saturate your lungs, cloud your empty head.
He smells so good; you don’t even like cigars.
A rough thumb caresses your cheek, a silent request for you to continue. You can practically feel the lust-drunk moans vibrating in his chest – so deep, they’re barely audible over the crackling fire.
You hiccup as deep a breath as you can manage and swallow him down again. He’s silky on your tongue, you sigh softly through your nose as the blunt head flirts with your gag reflex. You slacken your jaw despite the ache already crawling into the joint. Even then, your teeth scrape the base a bit, but that only makes him twitch against your soft palate.
“Look here, love.”
Your lashes flutter as you try to focus your gaze, scrolling your eyes up his body. Most of the details are lost either in the haze of desire or the vagary of dreams, but the blue eyes that greet you are sharper than real life.
You jolt back to consciousness with a dry cough, the scent of him still haunting your senses. You stumble to the restroom for water. Don’t even realize that you’re glancing in the mirror over your shoulder, expecting someone to be there, until you realize you’re alone.
Oddly bereft, you trudge back to bed and try to focus on the clean soap smell of your aunts’ detergent.
In moments like this, it’s hard not to blame yourself.
Not because you’ve done anything wrong, or even feel like you have. It’s because the situation is so frustratingly out of your control that it’s almost easier to tell yourself that one decision or another would have avoided this outcome. A sharper response, a frown instead of a smile, a different walking route.
(There’s also your mother’s voice, always. Saying to be smart, to pay attention, to not “put yourself” in a vulnerable position. You silence that voice viciously this time.)
Still, the fact of the matter is, there’s no personal choice you could have made to keep Corporal Callahan from cornering you in this supply closet. You just wanted a box of tissues.
“Look, I know you’re Agent Laswell’s niece, but I don’t see why we can’t go out because of it,” he reasons. As if that’s the reason you’ve been trying to gently dissuade his attempts.
“It’s not that—” you begin, shifting. He’s standing too close, but you refuse to back yourself any deeper into this tiny space. The doorway is right there, he’s just taking up all of it.
“Then just say yes,” he chuckles. His tone is all smooth and easy, meant to be charming maybe? “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking.”
Except you’re not asking, you think with helpless frustration. The sharp words get trapped behind your teeth, cutting up the roof of your mouth. Your heart is beating so hard and loud you can barely hear his “romantic” overtures.
“I’m not really…” You’re not even sure what to say this time; you’ve already told him you’re not looking to date. He’d said some vaguely predatory line about changing your mind.
In the absence of a finished statement, Callahan takes the opportunity to continue cajoling.
“C’mon,” he sing-songs, “I’m not letting you out of there until you say yes.”
You pry your jaw open, about to agree to it just for the sake of getting free. Deal with the fallout later.
There’s a rush of air and suddenly the doorway is empty. You briefly see Callahan against the opposite wall, face blank in unpleasant surprise. Then a big body blocks your view of him. Broad, bunched shoulders and thick thighs. A shock of brunet hair shaved close at the sides and long at the top. Your entire body locks up.
“You come near her again, they won’ stop findin’ pieces of ya, aye?” A growl, low and rough, Scottish accent thick. You shiver.
Callahan stutters something, a few garbled syllables through a strained and winded voice. You think you might hear “captain” in there somewhere. The bigger man shifts, you hear a muffled thump – Callahan hitting the wall again, you think. Then, with seemingly no effort, your savior tosses Callahan to the side like trash. He stumbles, catches himself.
“Away ‘n bile yer heid.”
Callahan flicks one last frightened glance your way then hurries off, proverbial tail tucked between his scrawny legs. You don’t even watch him go, eyes glued to the stranger’s muscular back. He rolls his wide shoulders, cracks his neck, and finally turns.
Familiar blue eyes pin you in place as he steps closer. The scent of cigar smoke and leather teases your nose.
A voice you’ve known for months rumbles in his chest. “Found you.”
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paulsaladino · 1 year
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Curb Appeal, Old Harbor Green, Massapequa, NY - longisland #driveways #curbappeal #stonecreationsoflongisland
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