#aussie muscle cars

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Stuart Gary’s Superbird and the need for speed A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away I dreamed of owning a Falcon GT hardtop just like the one my childhood hero Allan Moffat raced at Bathurst. Eventually, I bought an old rust ridden 1976 XB orange Ford Fairmont GS and slowly rebuilt it into my dream car – sort of like the black Falcon Interceptor out of Mad Max. Instead of a supercharger (which was fake in the movie car anyway) my car is equipped with a genuine 1000 hp twin turbocharged 351 under the hood. I often drove this beast from Sydney to Darwin when I was working as a radio broadcaster and journalist at 8DN. It was my daily ride for the commute from the suburbs to the city when I moved to 3UZ in Melbourne. And I got a great shot of it next to Brocky’s 05 Commodore when it was on display in Newcastle while I was working for the ABC at 2NC. Mind you this was always a thirsty beast – just four miles per gallon on the old scale -- a run from Newcastle to Sydney required two tanks of fuel! The heart of the beast is a specially built engine originally put together by Bob Matic at Ford Muscle Parts and later further modified by Ian Benson at Benson's Turbos. For the technically minded, the 351 Cleveland V8 powering the beast is fully blue printed, shot peened, and micro-polished. It’s based around a four bolt Aussie block fitted with 4V O-ringed open chambered BOSS heads, twin TO4 Garrett air-research turbo chargers with 21-pound wastegates, turbo dish pistons, Carrillo alloy rods, stainless steel crank, and a windage tray sump. It uses a three-inch stainless-steel twin exhaust system. The block is cooled by a four-core radiator and there's a separate radiator for the gearbox oil. Those thousand ponies are fed through a 12 inch drag clutch and four speed top loader gearbox to a custom-made drive shaft and GTHO yoke, into a nine-inch LSD and 35 spline rear axles. The Falcon is totally street legal with an engineer’s certificate to prove it. I also own a De Tomaso Pantera, but the two cars are totally different. While the Falcon has a deep throated thunderous growl, rumbling like the approaching storm it is - the Pantera has a short loud bark. The Pantera is very fast off the line (0 to 100 in around 3 seconds) and amazingly nimble -- even twitchy through the corners. But it holds on to the road as if attached to guide rails all the way to its top speed of over 300 KPH. On the other hand, the Falcon is a very different beast. It’s much slower off the line, with those turbos taking a while to spin up to boost. But once that turbo whistle starts, you’re suddenly thrust backwards into your seat and the beast hunkers down and begins accelerating like a bat out of hell -- easily slipping beyond the old 200 MPH mark (320 KPH) as the world outside flashes past. The beast eventually tops out at just over 342 KPH – close enough to warp speed for anyone. It’s a true adrenaline pumping rush taking you to the edge and beyond. Yet, it all changed once I started taking flying lessons. Flying aircraft is a totally different world. Looking down from above, life at ground level suddenly seemed so limiting and two dimensional. I still own both cars – but seldom drive them.

[deviousbondager1]

Aussie muscle car legends!

[axesent]

VG Valiant HEMI PACER 245 - Scraps. Australian Built Version *again sorry about watermarking and having to tell people that downloading, up scaling and selling other peoples stuff is not "fair use" axesent.com

[mickey-g-classsics]

Cruising rods and customs

[root-beer-gaming-guy]

[ozdigitalimages]

[pruplemonkeydishwasher]

71 Chrysler Valiant Charger R/T

[soamericn]

𝜗𝜚 𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ he said, "baby, " that's what he called me, "i love you" every single word you say makes me feel some type of way, it's the thought of you that slightly scares me but it takes my breath away, forget what I was gonna say

𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!y/n x oscar piastri ) oscar’s plans for a date for him and his girlfriend after feeling bad for being busy all week, but ignoring how tired he’d been turns out to not be the best idea.

𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , up to your imagination <3

𝜗𝜚… triggers , swearing , anxiety

𝜗𝜚… authors note , I was really proud of this!!! hope you like it it had a plot and I sorta lost it while writing it but thats okay, my next fic is gonna be an smau I have an idea planned out

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist

It’d been a busy week for Oscar, almost the start of the season and he’d missed the feeling of winter break already. He loved his career, most didn’t get to say that but there was a sort of weight off his shoulders when the last race ended, a certain peace in the air that put him at ease. 

Currently, the ease had subsided and the stress was catching once again in his throat, and his schedule had started to fill up. He knew he had to make time this year not just for himself, he’d recently gotten a girlfriend right before the end of the race last season. 

She’s everything he’s ever wanted, he’s never met someone who’s understood him so much until he met her. Oscar felt a nervousness in his heart, what if he couldn’t make time for her? What if she’d validly lose interest with him not around? 

He’d been reassured plenty of times by her, even without sharing his thoughts. She just knew. God, Oscar couldn’t even put into words how perfect she’d been for him. 

Towards the end of his week, they’d planned to go on a date. Oscar had felt guilty after not properly going out in a while, not that she minded they were both homebodies anyway. 

Setting the reservation for the restaurant days in advance that he’d known she liked was easy, picking out the right outfit a few hours before he had to pick her up was not. 

This all felt silly to him. Never in his life had he’d cared so much about what he wore. Christ, he wore the same Mclaren polo in the paddock practically every race weekend. 

Scouring his limited closet for the right shirt and pants proved harder than he thought. He’d tried a nice t-shirt and jeans, too casual. Maybe not a tux either, too fancy. He’d finally settled on a white button up with the top three buttons unbuttoned, and a pair of khaki shorts. And feeling somewhat satisfied with his choice he put on some cologne, and ran a hand through his hair. 

This might as well have been a first date the way the Aussie was stressing. Tapping a finger on the steering wheel as he drove, running many hands through his hair. Both tell-tales of his nervousness.

Tall glass doors filled his vision as he reached her apartment building. Tapping twelve on the elevator and tapping his foot as he waited. The silence of the confined space was so loud, nerves rising in his chest. Oscar felt stupid. He had no need to be this nervous. No need at all. She was just so her, so perfect and the exact image of someone he’d imagined his life with. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve her. 

Once the elevator doors had opened with a small beep, he’d walked out and the hallway seemed hauntingly long with her door at the end of it. This was all muscle memory to him, he could’ve come here with his eyes closed if he wanted, though he might’ve gotten some weird looks and a potential car accident.

He’d rung her doorbell, folding his hands neatly and awkwardly behind his back as she waited. “Coming!” A soft voice shouted on the other side of the door. Oscar smiled to himself. 

For the first time since he started getting ready he’d checked his phone, and sighed. He had been almost an hour early then when he said he’d be picking her up. Now suddenly the feeling of him intruding on her crowded his thoughts. 

They faded away the minute she opened the door and her eyes lit up. Y/n’s hair had been curled but was obviously not styled yet, she wore pajama shorts and a t-shirt and looked halfway done with her make-up. 

“I’m early, I think,” His nose scrunched as he spoke. 

She shook her head, lips in a small friendly pout. And gestured for him to walk inside. Once he’d taken a step closer into the apartment she’d pulled him into a hug, standing on her tippy-toes and her arms around his neck. “I missed you.” The girl whispered into his ear sending shivers down his spine.

Oscar’s arms fit snugly around her waist pulling her close, his face buried in her neck smelling the floral scent of her body wash. 

He hadn’t realized how tired this week had truly made him till he’d fallen into her touch. The coziness of her presence made him notice how much he actually needed this, how much he’d been needing her.

Pulling away from his tight grasp she looked up at him in a way that made him wanna melt into her all over again. Y/n’s hand slowly moved up from his neck tracing the light stubble along his chin before holding his face in her hand, he swore she would be the death of him. 

“You look handsome.” She commented with a hint of surprise in her voice and a furrow of her eye brow as she scanned his outfit. 

A small pink rose to his cheeks but a sarcastic comment rose in his throat, “do I usually not?” 

Her head shook, “No you do, even in the same Mclaren polo and unbrushed hair.” 

Oscar’s head looked down at the floor slightly embarrassed with a huge grin spread across his face. Using her hand once again she tilted his head to look at her, their eyes meeting. “I gotta finish getting ready but the tv’s on in the living room.” She said, placing a quick peck on his lips before walking off to the bathroom, having no idea the effect she had on him.

He paused standing there in the hallway, he wasn’t sure what it was about her that had such an impact on him. It might’ve been her bubbliness, how she radiated positivity, or just the fact she knew him, like truly knew him.

Every time she’d walked away from him, Oscar missed her presence like he hadn’t seen her in years. He never imagined himself being clingy but it was like with her he couldn’t stay away. Y/n had been his second home. 

The brunette boy took a seat on the couch sinking into it, the t.v. played some random sitcom the volume low. The exhaustion he’d been pushing back for the whole week had broken through a dam and flooded back into him the moment he took a seat. It didn’t help that her home was the exact definition of cozy. A candle burned filling the apartment with the smell of fall, she’d refused to use the overhead lighting opting for smaller lamps and other lights.

Oscar could’ve slept three days here if he was allowed, preferably with her near him. Subconsciously he rested his head on a nearby pillow at the end of the couch lifting his legs up (them partially going off the couch). And his eyes seemed to drift closed.

The scent of cinnamon filled his nose as his eyes fluttered open. He made a confused groaning noise stretching his back and arms out because despite the couch being fairly comfortable it wasn’t exactly made for his height. He sat up taking off a blanket that was placed across him that he didn’t remember putting on.

It’d taken him a moment but not long to remember where he was but more importantly what plans they had. Panic seeped through him and he jumped up looking to the bathroom, the door was now opened and the light had been turned off. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath, guilt filling his pores. 

Oscar ended up in the kitchen where Y/n sat on the counter, legs criss-crossed watching something on her laptop. She’d put her hair up and had been in her pajamas like she was before her make-up removed as well. Looking at the time on the stove, Oscar cursed himself he’d slept right through their reservation. 

God, he wished hadn’t ignored how drained he was like he did. Now she’d noticed him and paused what she was watching looking at him with a soft smile. The smile hadn’t warmed his heart like previously, he couldn’t put into words how horrible he’d felt. 

Taking steps closer to her, ending up standing in front of where she was sitting, her legs uncrossing and he stood in between them. “I’m so so sorry, I feel horrible right now.” He admitted, not wanting to meet her eyes. 

“It’s okay, we all need breaks sometimes, you’ve been busy.” He didn’t deserve her. Oddly he felt like her yelling at him would’ve been better than this. She’d been such an angel and he broke the one promise he’d made all week. 

Oscar shook his head, “Sweetheart, It’s not okay I told you we’d do something special and I fucked it.” He looked at the granite next to her leg not wanting to meet her eyes still. 

A soft light hand placed itself on his chin and pushed him to face her. Her eyes were comforting like a warm blanket of kindness. “You did, but it's okay.”

He had so many apologies in his throat so many words he could say but only the simplest ones came out. “I’m so sorry again-” He was suddenly distracted by the sudden scent of cinnamon once again. “What are you making?” 

“Well right now dessert but I need help with dinner.” She admitted and he wrapped his arms around her torso and her around his neck once again except he was the one looking up at her. 

Oscar furrowed an eyebrow. “Is that not the wrong order?” 

“Oh shut it, you’re in no place to make jabs right now.” She joked with a fake roll of her eyes.

“How about I make dinner for you?” He offered lightly running his hands up and down her back. 

Her facial expression showed her contemplating it. “Do I trust your cooking?” 

Oscar was now the one to roll his eyes. “Do I trust yours?” He commented. 

Y/n lightly hit his shoulder gasping. “You’re very rude, Oscar, don’t you know that?” 

“Oh am I?” His hands moved from her back to her waist once more.

“Mhm.” 

He carried her off the counter as she wrapped her legs around his torso and she started laughing, a sound Oscar wished he could hear on repeat forever. His hand resting on her butt holding her up. He placed a light kiss on her lips, more intimate than the quick peck from earlier. He pulled away but their faces were still inches apart. 

“So can I make you dinner?” He asked again in a whisper. 

Her eyes tilted up dramatically thinking about it, “Only because I don't feel like it.”

She placed another quick peck on his lips and Oscar pulled her back in for a deeper one, and he swore no matter how long they knew each other he’d never get over this feeling.

𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @cedarbcws @c-losur3

[mrchiipchrome]

All Mine

W.C. - 1,3 k

prompt 22. -I can’t describe what I’m feeling. prompt 116. -Baby you’re all mine.

a/n: i know this is quite bad but we move on, this started out as a song prompt thingy. if you want to request, there's a prompt list linked in my masterlist.

------------------------

Weight training. One of the most annoying things ever to a certain footballer, you wanted to be out on the pitch playing with your friends, not be in a crowded weight room. It wasn’t that you weren’t strong, you were incredibly so, but it was just incredibly boring.

But, there was one thing that made the long rhythmic sessions worth it. That was being able to shamelessly stare at your girlfriend, a favorite on your part being when she was squatting. It’s been your forever favorite.

You had been caught staring at your girl so many times that you weren’t even phased by the immense teasing you got for it, no you just continued staring while nodding every once in a while.

Today though, you wouldn’t even have the opportunity to do it as Jonas had made the conscious decision to place you with all the youngins. Even he had noticed your decline in productivity when you were close to your Aussie.

This meant that you had to be supervising the youngsters and train, it was just a disaster waiting to happen. 

Chatting with McCabe before the session was to start, you’re quickly pulled away by the infamous duo of Gio and Katherine, each of them tugging on one arm. You can’t do anything but mouth a ‘help me’ to the Irish woman, who just decides to laugh at you.

“Y/n/n it’s time to start!” The Brazilian drags every word in the sentence out, speaking in a sing-songy voice.

“Wait, where’s Vic? And the rest of the youngsters?” You ask in a confused tone, not seeing any of your younger teammates. 

“Oh Viccy’s late, she’ll arrive later. For now you’re stuck with us” Katherine tells you, the two of them looking at each other mischievously when they hear your loud groan.

“Alright then, let’s do this. You two can start with whatever dumbbell you like, I presume you’ve already warmed up?” The vigorous nods you get just make you sigh, a long day before you.

Even though you couldn’t see Steph, she could definitely see you. The way your sleeves were pulled up around your shoulders made her mouth water, muscles flexing in a way that catered to her taste perfectly.

Yet, as she looks over towards you for the tenth time, Steph can’t help the uncomfortable burning feeling in her stomach.

It wasn’t like she wanted it to happen, but when she sees Gio stand behind you, her hands on your waist as you squat, she truly cannot help it.

Steph wasn’t a jealous person at all, but the thought of anyone other than her touching you like that had her infuriated.

Worst thing was that she couldn’t look away, not even if she tried. She was simply glued. 

Her saving grace came in the form of a vigorous tapping to her thigh, the Aussie having completely forgotten that she was spotting a player of her own.

Picking the bar up from Caitlin’s chest, she can hear the forward grumbling absentmindedly while she looks over to you once again.

Thankfully, you’d moved on to another exercise, otherwise she might’ve combusted.

The rest of the training session goes off without a hitch, you joining your suspiciously quiet girlfriend in walking back to the locker room when you’re done. 

Steph doesn’t say anything to you even as you both get out of the locker room, neither does she say anything when you get in the car or when you arrive home.

It isn’t until you’re both inside the comfort of your own home that you decide to ask her about it, the defender keeping her eyes cast downwards to the floor instead of looking you in the eye.

“What’s wrong love?” You ask her cautiously, trying to get her to look at you and not the hardwood.

“Nothing” Her thick Australian accent gives away how she really feels, and she herself knows it. Maybe that’s why she mumbles the words into her coat. 

“Love, I can’t hear what you’re saying.” Placing your pointer finger directly below her jaw, you lift her head so that she’s finally looking at you. “What’s going on baby?”

“I- today when Gio was spotting you, I just felt…” She lets out a groan, the inability to express her feelings frustrating her like no other. “I can’t describe what I’m feeling” 

Steph’s arms wrap around you, her face burying into your chest. 

“Do you want me to help you?” The defender nods her head, arms tightening around you. “Did you feel sad?” A shake of her head. “Did you feel happy?” Another shake of her head.

It continues for another minute before you finally, in a teasing tone, get to the emotion she was feeling.

“Did you feel jealous?” The hesitant nod she gives you has a surprised chuckle escaping your mouth, genuinely shocked that she felt jealous.

“Don’t laugh at me, she was touching what’s mine. You’re all mine and no one except me should be allowed to touch you like that” The brunette looks up at you, fiery jealousy spreading like a wildfire throughout her.

“Oh, am I now? Well why don’t you show them who I belong to then my love?” The suggestive tone your voice bears is hard to miss, and Steph immediately gets the hint.

Getting up on her tiptoes, she connects your lips in a way that has your knees buckling underneath you. Her hands move up to your hair, tugging and tangling her fingers in it like it was the last thing she’d ever do.

Gasping, the defender slips her tongue into your mouth, kissing you possessively and passionately. Without letting up on the kiss, Steph starts to walk you towards the living room, your thoughts consumed by her and only her.

When the back of your knees hit the soft cushions of the couch, you break the seal of your lips, sitting down and leaning against the cushions.

Steph sits down in your lap with one leg on each side of your thighs, straddling you. She doesn’t even give you any time to settle before connecting your lips in an even more heated kiss, the defender moving your limp hands to her waist before moving her own to your hair. 

In a flash, her kisses move down to your jaw and even further down your neck, sucking and biting at all parts of your neck. You can even feel the smile against your skin when she hears the sounds slipping out of your mouth, it only spurring her on more.

“Baby, you’re. All. Mine. Not Gio’s, mine.” She grumbles between kisses, the entirety of your neck filled with deep dark bruises. Pulling back, the Aussie admires her work.

Her finger grasp at the sides of your jaw, pulling your head in different directions to get a better view of all the hickies she’d left, you still panting slightly. Humming, Steph thinks for a second before she moves her hands down to the hem of your shirt, tugging on it.

“Take your shirt off baby” She whispers in your ear, kissing the spot just below it. Immediately you do as she tells you, tugging the shirt off hastily.

She kisses you one last time on the lips before moving to place even darker marks on your collar bones, all the skin that would be visible to the public eye (and a lot that wouldn’t be visible) was covered in blackish purple marks.

Soon enough the skies are as dark as the marks littering your upper body, laying beside your girl in your shared bed. 

Both of your phones having been turned off since long, neither of you being bothered with the notifications from your instagrams. 

It wasn’t just your teammates who needed to know that you were hers, but the entire world too. Steph posting a picture of your hickey littered neck to her story with the caption, all mine.

[cuddlepilefics]

HI! I love your stories and I don't know if you've already done it (if so sorry in advance) but you could do a story with Felix who is sick (migraine, stomach cramps whatever you want) but stubborn and only admits it when he hurts himself due to a fall during training and others (specific;chan and hyunjin pls) take care of him??? pls and thank you ❤️

Dizziness

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Felix

Caregivers: Chan & Hyunjin

Prompt @whumpril

No one’s POV.:

Felix had already felt a little odd when he had gone to bed the previous night, muscles achy with exhaustion that didn’t even feel justified considering their schedule for the day hadn’t been that draining. Though he had gotten a decent amount of sleep, the exhaustion hadn’t improved at all and it took all his willpower to get out of bed. At least he was lucky enough to not run late, unlike Minho, Seungmin and Jeongin, who completely missed their friend’s struggle in their rush to get ready and out of the dorm on time. With how tired he was, Felix would’ve almost fallen asleep on the drive to the company building if it wasn’t for the weird swimmy feeling in his head. Every time the car took a turn, the Aussie’s head was sent spinning and watching the buildings pass by did little to anchor him. Since looking out the window barely helped at all, Felix eventually gave up and closed his eyes, resting his head on Hyunjin’s shoulder.

Thinking the younger was falling asleep, Hyunjin gently rubbed Felix’ knee, which earned him a low hum of acknowledgement. In reality, the Aussie was trying his best not to get carsick but his stomach was starting to feel a little fluttery by the time they arrived at the company building. “You good?”, Hyunjin whispered as he helped his dongsaeng out of the car. Still a little unsteady on his feet, Felix yawned: “’m tired.” - “Maybe you can nap between the recordings”, the older chuckled as they made their way to the studio. Luckily, their schedule was starting off with a recording session and they’d have dance practice after lunch, so Felix still had some time to properly wake up and get into the groove. He could only hope it’d be enough because he doubted he’d be able to dance well anytime soon.

The mood in the studio was a little tense because adrenaline was still running high in Minho, Seungmin and Jeongin after the hectic morning they had had, so Felix didn’t dare ask if it was okay for him to lie down for a bit. His head was beginning to hurt as he read over his lyrics, the words blurring in front of his eyes. At least, the nausea he had experienced during the drive was slowly dissipating but he still didn’t have an appetite when Chan asked if they should get anything for breakfast.

Thinking that having something in his stomach might quell the remaining queasiness, Felix figured he could just have some fruit and crackers and he even volunteered to go to the store with Jeongin to get breakfast for everyone. His main intention was to get out of the stuffy studio, hoping the fresh morning air would settle his stomach and maybe wake him up. It did turn out to be a mistake though because he still felt far from steady on his feet but he didn’t want to worry Jeongin when the maknae was still reeling from that morning’s events. Pretending to just be in a bit of a cuddly mood, Felix linked their arms and held onto Jeongin’s arm to steady himself.

The trip to the store had taken more out of Felix than he would have expected but he was glad that he had been able to get out of the studio for a bit because the tension and chaos had almost driven him mad. Once they had sorted out everyone’s food orders, Felix plopped down in his seat and suppressed a groan. Nobody seemed to notice how quiet the Aussie was as he slowly nibbled his crackers. The crackers settled alright but by the time Felix finished his banana, his stomach was in knots. He had been determined to finish both though because he really wanted to take something for his worsening headache and knew he shouldn’t do so on an empty stomach.

“Are you okay, Lixxie?”, Chan asked softly, “You’re so quiet today, mate. Like, something about your energy just feels off.” – “I’m tired”, Felix chuckled, though the little, forced laugh aggravated his headache. He didn’t want to worry Chan, so he wouldn’t let the older know that he wasn’t feeling well at the moment. Especially because he didn’t think he was sick, just having a bit of an off day. Ruffling his dongsaeng’s hair, Chan smiled: “Alright, speak up if you need anything though. Had you said something earlier, you could have taken a nap here but now we’re short on time and need to leave for dance practice soon.” – “Hyung, it’s nothing really”, Felix insisted, too stubborn to crack now because he could’ve asked about taking a nap earlier. It was his own fault that he hadn’t. Poking Chan’s side, he reminded: “I’m tired, not dying. We’ve all been tired before.” – “I guess so”, Chan sighed, getting back to work.

Felix was feeling more miserable by the minute but he decided that he had missed his chances to speak up. That didn’t mean that he would turn down the painkillers Seungmin offered him. The vocalist had noticed how Felix flinched whenever there was a loud noise and pressed long enough for the Aussie to admit to having a headache. Felix could only hope that his stomach too would settle once the pain improved or else he had no idea how he’d get through their dance practice session.

Luckily, his headache did improve and though his stomach still felt funny, he was only the slightest bit queasy. What Felix hadn’t considered though, was the intense vertigo that hit him the moment he got to his feet to head down to the practice rooms. Squeezing his eyes shut, he clutched Hyunjin’s arm for support and was grateful that the older wrapped his arms around his waist to steady him. “Woah, you good?”, Hyunjin frowned worriedly, hesitant to step back even after his dongsaeng had found his balance. Felix nodded but it was barely convincing, still, he muttered: “Got up too fast. We’ve been sitting for too long.” – “Well, guess it’s a good thing we’ll be moving for the next couple of hours”, Hyunjin hummed, patting the Aussie’s shoulder. And boy were they moving.

Felix didn’t know how he did it but he had made it through the first two hours of dance practice with only minor slip ups. Sure, his moves weren’t as sharp as they usually were but hey, that was still pretty good considering that he felt like he was dancing aboard a wonky ship that was tossed about a stormy sea by relentless waves crashing against its hall. His stomach was churning once again, almost as if he was getting motion sick from his own dance moves. Still, he had only gagged into his mouth once and had been able to turn away from his group, so that nobody noticed. When Minho eventually called a ten minute break, Felix didn’t take a single step more, shakily sitting down on the floor right where he had stood.

Chan seemed worried about Felix despite the younger’s best efforts to hide his struggle. By now, the boy was too out of it to notice Chan’s concern though. Felix’ stomach cramped horribly and it was almost impossible to move but somehow, he still managed to get to his feet and resume practice once the short break was over. How he was able to stay on his feet, the dancer didn’t know because his head spun and his vision blurred. Felix wasn’t even sure if his moves were on beat, not hearing the music over the ringing in his ears, and he also didn’t notice how he lost his balance, realizing a moment to late that the blurry picture was tipping sideways.

Without as much as an attempt at catching himself, Felix crumpled to the floor, the impact sending shock waves through his body and making his head pound. “Shit, you alright, mate?”, Chan frowned as he crouched next to his dongsaeng. Felix’ eyes seemed out of focus despite the leader being pretty sure that the boy hadn’t hit his head, which confused and worried the older greatly. Dazedly sitting up, Felix slurred: “Gonna be s-“ Before choking up his meager breakfast over his lap. He almost slumped over, had it not been for Chan catching him by the shoulders, steadying him as he retched. Hyunjin was by their side in an instant, carefully brushing Felix’ hair out of his face, impressed by how long it had gotten. Tugging the hair tie out of his hair, Hyunjin tied his dongsaeng’s hair into a messy ponytail and gently rubbed the younger’s back.

A few unproductive heaves later, Felix collapsed backwards and Chan slowly lowered him to the ground, so he wouldn’t hit his head. “You with us, Lix?”, the leader asked softly, taking the other’s hand and lifting up his arm to examine it. Humming in confirmation, Felix squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight off the unbearable dizziness that threatened to send his stomach over the edge again. It was only now that he was taking stock of his body that he felt warm liquid running down his arm and the moist warmth that soaked through the fabric of his pants. Realizing that his stomach contents were currently seeping through his pants, Felix tried to roll onto his side and gagged emptily. He couldn’t even really prop himself up because Chan was still holding onto his arm. Felix tugged in the arm in Chan’s grasp, whining hoarsely.

There were a few muffled voices in the background but Felix couldn’t decipher what anyone was saying until Chan’s calm voice right next to him promised: “It’s okay. Your elbow is bleeding though, so don’t put it on the floor. We wouldn’t want you getting any dirt into that wound.” Or vomit but Chan didn’t say that out loud. “His knee’s bleeding too, hyung”, Hyunjin mumbled and Felix could feel him tug on his soiled pants. Barely even lifting his head, the younger winced: “Could you stop, please?” The skin on his knee stung already and Hyunjin’s fussing was making it worse. “I’m sorry, do you think you can sit up and change into some clean shorts though?”, the older hummed, “If not, at least keep your eyes open, so we know you’re still conscious.” – “Dizzy”, Felix breathed but shakily sat up to wriggle out of his pants.

Taking a seat behind Felix, so his dongsaeng could lean against his chest, Chan whispered: “Did you hit your head or have you been dizzy before?” – “Been dizzy for a while. Wouldn’t have toppled over that easily if I hadn’t”, the dancer muttered but relaxed into his hyung’s arms. Minho had handed Chan a towel, so the eldest could wipe the sweat from Felix’ pale face, while Hyunjin had removed the younger’s vomit stained pants and was making quick work of cleaning the mess of his thighs, so he could patch up his knee. “Can you tell us how you’re feeling now?”, Chan hummed as he cupped Felix’ cheek, “And the truth please, no more, I’m-fine-just-tired-BS.” Drawing a deep breath, the other shuddered: “Dizzy an’ my head hurts. Stomach really doesn’t this merry-go-round.” – “Can I have your arm, please?”, Hyunjin asked softly once he had finished patching up Felix’ knee.

“How long have you felt like that?”, Chan continued, feeling his dongsaeng’s forehead, “You feel pretty warm and I don’t think that’s just because you’ve been dancing.” Leaning into the leader’s touch, Felix yawned: “Went to bed exhausted as hell and woke up feeling odd. Didn’t think I was sick though.” – “Well, I think you’re sick though”, the eldest countered with Hyunjin adding: “Same here.” The were quiet sounds of confirmation from the other members, making Felix sigh: “I guess. Just really wanna go home.” – “We’ll take you home”, Chan promised, “Could you sip some water first?” Weakly shaking his head, the younger admitted: “Wouldn’t stay down.” – “Okay, we’ll try later. Would you like some gum?”, Hyunjin offered, handing Felix a strip of gum when the boy nodded. He really wanted to get this awful taste off his tongue.

Minho lent Felix his spare pair of shorts and they hoisted the boy to his feet afterwards. Felix hadn’t been kidding when he said he was dizzy, almost tumbling down again if it hadn’t been for Chan and Hyunjin steadying him. “Easy there”, Chan shushed, rubbing Felix’ back when the younger slumped against his chest with a tired whimper. He really didn’t feel good at all and why was he still so dizzy? Clutching the leader’s shirt, Felix sniffled: “I really want my bed and not to get up anytime soon.” – “That sounds like a great plan actually”, Chan smiled. With how stubborn his dongsaeng had been earlier, he had already feared how difficult it would be to get him to rest but it seemed the young dancer was done putting up a fight. “Come on, let’s get you home and to bed”, Hyunjin whispered, taking Felix’ arm to guide him on their way.

[forthechubbies]

I Love him...and him♡// Skz! Aussie Boys Imagine 🔥☁️ Chubby Reader ♡ Warning! Me trying to write works in a aussie accent. I'm sorry in advance.

"Big nose." Bam!

"Hot head!" Wam!

"Auss..ie? Aussie. Trash?" Smack!

You were taken aback by this next one. "Binnie?" The sentence said Changbin, but you call him Binnie. "My Binnie's muscles are better than yours....and that's why I'm leaving you for Binnie?!" You gasped at the handwriting, obviously not yours. "Chan, Is this really necessary? Can't you find a different outlet to handle your anger?"

You distanced yourself, hopping off his lap, to which he whined about you leaving his thighs to freeze, and stood back to get the whole picture. "I mean, you strapped yourself to a chair and forced yourself to listen this-" While holding it, a particular word caught your eye in bold letters. C***.

Your mouth hung open. " Did you think of all these yourself? It gets quite vulgar after the first fours."

"No, The kids helped out too." He confessed, loving that silk nightgown on you. " I bought you that, lover? I haven't seen it before."

"I bet it was mainly Lee and Hannie, but I can clearly see Binnie had a take on this too. " You shook your head. "Oh, your mother bought it as a wedding gift. It's been sitting at the top of the closet since-" You cleared your throat, blushing.

"Our honeymoon night!? You have had that little number since our honeymoon night!" Effortlessly, Chan break out the restraints standing erect before you.

The clipboard coated your gasp as Chan took up your personal space; you eyed the crimson imprints staining his biceps from the harsh leather.

"Your precious Felix wrote the cunt one."His accent stuns you before his lips attack your neck-wait what!?

You shoved chan's chest away, more so, Chan moving out on his own. "That's not funny, Christopher. Yongbok would never say such a thing."

Chan rolled his eyes to high heaven once his back was turned. "Is that right, Lover?" Chan is more than aware of your bias- Felix being the main one. He isn't sure how this little schoolgirl crush began, but he oddly doesn't mind. He thinks it's cute how you defend your little Yongbok, not knowing the duality of Felix.

"Did you say something, Chan?" You asked, scrolling downstairs with a starving husband hot on your heels.

"I said I want burgahs." He exclaims, dramatically holding his hand over his tummy. " I haven't had a nice juicy burgah in years." Chan snatches you in his arms, accidentally manhandling you like his kids.

Chan didn't note anything but his carnivorous growling in his stomach. The man needs meat! He's a big boy, and big boys need to eat.

You gasped, looking up at chan, sporting a startled expression. "I'm not a toy. You can't just-" You stopped after realizing he definitely isn't listening.

You can feel it when his large hands slide up and down and that dazed look on his face confirms it.

"Go get in the car," Chan demanded, yet he still felt the need to throw you over his shoulder.

You giggled at his severe yet playful tone, gripping the back of his shirt to keep you stable. " Chan! I'm still in my nightgown! Indecent exposure, remember!?"

He froze in the door frame. "What are you doing here?"

"I got locked out, and I have nowhere else to go-" Jisung cheeses at Chan, but mainly the ass on full display for his viewing pleasure. "Hello, Mrs. Bang!" He reached up, but Chan caught his wrist.

"Hi, Jisung!" You made sure to match his energy.

"I was going to kiss the lady's hand-" He sighed.

Chan lifted both his brows. "Just making sure, Your handsy when it comes to bums, like- um...I don't know, mine."

Jisung bypassed Chan stepping straight into your home but not before standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his hyung in a slight pause.

"That's because yours is my favorite, Hyung. And no one can ever replace you." He smoothes his hand over Chan's tight blue jeans and lands a smack so hard Chan tips forward.

You wheezed, having a front seat to the whole thing, the hand you were using to cover your hand was gently stolen from you and kissed sweetly by Jisung.

Silence, Your feet graced the floor once again; Chan hummed sweetly and purred, rubbing his nose to yours before his large back overtook your vision, leaving you to tilt your head around him to see Jisung.

You saw a twinkle in his eyes when you giggled; Jisung smirked, swiping away from Chan's keep. "Mine!" He ran a good distance before rubbing it in his hyung's face.

Worse, you had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck as he held you like the stolen princess you were.

Heated, Chan pushed a not-so-friendly smile Jisung's way in an attempt not to scare you. "Alright. Alright. Very funny. Come on now." He was calmy, strutting over with wide arms to take you back.

Jisung dodged his arms and kissed your cheek. "Mwah!" His lips curved into a cheeky grin. You could see the steam coming out of Hyung's ears. "Jealous?" He purred against your chubby cheek.

"You should stop-" You cautioned Hannie, a worried expression written on your face.

Chris's smile was long gone, tilting his head. "I'm gonna break ya fingers."

When the smile drops, Jisung releases you to get on his knees. " I was joking! Joking! I'm sorry!"

While Chris dealt with Jisung, you escaped to the kitchen-The fridge was opened..weird it was closed earlier.

You pushed the door to close it-

"Ow! What the-" Yongbok popped up, closing the door, and the distance between you two. "What are you doing up so late, Buttacup?" He brought you in by your chubby waist, loving how soft and squishy you are- but out of respect, He doesn't let his hands squeeze you even if they are aching too.

You should ask how he got into your house!?

You gasped. "Chan was hungry-" You held your breath at Felix's cologne wafting off his adam's apple; he's so close you can make out each freckle on his rosy cheeks. "He-We umm." Goodness, look at those eyes.

You kept your screams in your throat and fangirling in your head, crafting the illusion that you were utterly sane in front of your crush.

"Burgahs?" Yongbok answered his own question via a missed text message for Binnie.

Why is it so hard not to stare? You watched his brows pinch, and his thumb typed away. His outfit didn't match his smile; the rocker attire fried your already mushy lovesick brain paired with this inky black hair color, a new style to you and hands down is a winner in your poor innocent heart. Sh! Pretend for the story! His Hands are immense...and kind of pretty. Ah! Yn, you greedy pervert, You should be lucky; chan even married you, and you have the nerve to look at another man...

"It looks like your hubby is cravin..."He whipped out a blue raspberry lollipop snatching off the wrapper before popping the candy in his mouth.

"Buttacup?" The boy ogled at your cute, zoned-out expression, a slight pout to those plump lips, and oddly enough, your stare tracked to his hand.

The nickname alone powered the heat overgrowing in your round cheeks but his voice...it's..it's

"Not fair." You gasped, covering your mouth. "Excuse me, My mind was somewhere else." You apologized for zoning out; He simply smiled and repeated- "It looks like your hubby is craving..." Yongbok wiggled his phone, displaying the message on the dim screen.

The blue raspberry stained his mouth as he kept the stick between his teeth. "Are you coming along? I know Chris hates leaving you unguarded if it isn't necessary." His smile failed to reach his eyes for the "Joke." punchline.

Yongbok brushed past you taking his leave into the living room; what you didn't know was Yongbok's eyes straying far too long at your exposed back.

Tell me if you want a part two.

[i-am-church-the-cat]

loscar with protective oscar? like something happens to logan and boom oscar is upset, shocking everyone on the grid bc he’s normally so chill?? maybe they even get scared of him lmao. and this is how they find out the two rookies have been together for years <3

Anon your mind>>>

I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you like it

Warning for mild violence and blood mention Set after the Brazilian GP

Alex has seen fights before. He grew up with four siblings and was teammates with Max post-Daniel and pre-WDC. Almost always he can see the buildup of hurt and anger that ends in an explosion. When you look at a bomb, you expect it to blow up.

Oscar Piastri doesn’t look like a bomb so, of course, Alex never expected him to blow up. 

They’re a sorry sight, the four of them Alex and George are brooding together behind where Logan and Oscar are making their way out of the paddock. Logan’s cradling his left arm to his chest and Oscar keeps shooting looks at it like he’s personally offended that it couldn’t handle the set up of the car and was hurting Logan because of it. It was kind of funny, and he’d nudged George to tell him so when all hell breaks loose. 

They’re right at the entrance when a man breaks away from a crowd of people yelling bloody murder. The group of drivers have little time to react before the man is tackling Logan to the ground. Logan, with only one functioning arm and more height to him than muscle. 

The two go down in a flail of arms and shouts. The attacker is yelling something in Portuguese that Alex can’t make out (except for the word “Drugovich” which immediately makes his blood boil) and Logan is somewhere between panicked, pained, and outraged. Alex, with all the reaction time of a professional F1 driver, is already running towards the scuffle when it happens. 

Oscar, who had been right next to Logan and thus faster getting to him, hauls the attacker away from Logan before he can do any more damage. From what Alex can tell, it’s a fair amount, so he kneels down next to his teammate instead of looking to see what Oscar is doing. 

That was his mistake.

Alex and George manage to get Logan sitting up and propped up between them, their worried ramblings crossing over and interchangeable with each other. Logan is barely paying attention to them, though. He’s looking over their shoulders for something. When he finds it, his eyes go wide and worried.

“Oscar, stop!” 

Alex frowns and looks in the direction Logan is staring at with mounting horror. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to see but it isn’t Oscar ‘butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth’ Piastri beating the shit out of a spectator. 

Apparently, all Oscar had done after getting the guy off of Logan was pin him to the ground instead, because he’s hovering over him, one hand crushing his esophagus while the other does some free lance reconstructive surgery on his face. Alex’s jaw is hanging open as he watches flecks of blood stand out on Oscar’s papaya team shirt. It’s only after Logan’s second demand to get Oscar to stop that Alex registers the yelling. 

“You want Drugovich to have a seat so bad, huh? He can take mine after I get fired for beating your face in for touching him, you selfish piece of shit,” Oscar is yelling over Logan’s attacker’s screams. At least, Alex thinks that’s what he said. Oscar’s accent is so thick he can only make out every other word. 

Despite Logan’s attempts, Oscar only stops when two security guards grab him and pull him off the guy. A third officer grabs the attacker despite him doing nothing but laying on the ground and moaning. Alex expects Oscar to try and fight the guards off, too, but he just lets them drag him away, huffing like a bull. 

“Oscar!” Alex is distracted from Oscar’s hauling off by Logan struggling to use his one half-functioning arm to stand. He and George help him up only for the kid to take off running after the Aussie. George and Alex exchange a look before following. 

Alex and George catch up with the blond by the time they get to the medical tent. They bust in together, Alex more than slightly concerned for what they might see on the other side. 

Oscar is sitting in a chair, the two security personnel hovering behind him. There’s a nurse tutting at him as she cleans Oscar’s flayed knuckles and an infuriated Zac Brown waving his arms in front of him. Neither Oscar nor Logan seem to care about any of that, though. Oscar’s head snaps up when they come in and the second the two lock eyes, Logan is pushing past all the very important people to land in Oscar’s lap. 

“You’re such a fucking idiot, what the fuck, Osc,” Logan is saying into Oscar’s shoulder. It sounds like he’s crying and Alex suddenly feels like he’s intruding on a private moment. The feeling surmounts as Oscar wraps his arms around Logan’s back, pulling him higher up his lap with the sort of ease that comes from years of practice, and presses a kiss to the blond’s hair. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Oscar is soothing him, though he looks the furthest thing away from sorry. Well, sorry about upsetting Logan, maybe, but definitely not for anything else. 

“What’s going on?” Alex spins around as a concerned and tired James Vowles comes into the tent, followed by Benny and- Mark Webber apparently. Alex opens his mouth to explain but Zac beats him to it. 

“We need to do damage control,” he directs, pulling his phone out. “We don’t know how many people saw that or the conclusions they’ll jump to, and lord knows the FIA is going to be all over our asses, seriously, Oscar-”

“I’ll deal with the FIA,” Mark cuts in. He makes his way across the increasingly crowded room, giving the security guards a look, before settling next to Oscar’s chair. The two exchange an understanding glance. “You just make sure the press don’t get their hands on anything.”

“And what, exactly, would they get their hands on?” James asks again, mythical patience breaking slightly. Zac and Mark share a look but Alex finally manages to get a word in. 

“A Drugovich fan broke into the paddock and attacked Logan,” he says, watching his boss’s expression darken. “Don’t know what he was saying but I bet it wasn’t good. Oscar got him off of him but-”

“But then he went bloody crazy,” George sumizes when Alex doesn’t know how to finish. The Mercedes driver also has his phone out, though Alex has no clue who he’s contacting. “Understandable, of course, and I will definitely be bringing this up with the FIA on the topic of driver safety. I don’t think Oscar is getting out of this unscathed, but we’ll have his back.”

George looks up from his phone and that’s when Alex can finally see the fury building in his eyes. He forgets sometimes that George and Logan have been friends for years, before Alex even met the American. They might be teammates but Alex doubts he’s in the top five people in the paddock who care abot Logan Sargeant.

“I don’t care what happens to me,” Oscar says, which is met with matching glares from Zac and Mark and a knee to the side from Logan.

“Logan, have you gotten checked out, yet?” James asks, which is a great question and one Alex probably should’ve been asking. He’s so glad to have a TP like him. 

The silence from the man is as clear an answer as any. Benny sighs and comes to crouch in front of Oscar’s chair, laying a hand on Logan’s back. 

“Come on, kid, we need to make sure you’re okay.”

Logan’s head shakes and he tries to press himself even closer to Oscar. A surely impossible feat but one they both seem to be accomplishing fine. In the end, it takes coaxing from Oscar, Benny, and Mark to get Logan to turn around on Oscar’s lap and let the nurse check him out. 

“So, was I the only one who didn’t know you two were dating?” Alex asks when things have settled down, the guards being called out and the older men (plus George) working on damage control. Logan blushes and it’s Oscar who ends up answering him. 

“We don’t tell a lot of people. We told James and Zac for contract reasons, and obviously Mark and Ben knew before us even-”

“George was there when it happened, actually,” Logan adds, Oscar deferring to him easily. “But besides them and our families, no one knows.”

“Huh.” Alex thinks back to the times he had seen them interact. “You are pretty good at hiding it.”

“We had practice when we were teammates at PREMA,” Logan explains. 

“Except for practice controlling your tempers?”

Oscar has the dignity to at least pretend to look abashed. Logan shoots him a glare over his shoulder. It’s only his boyfriend’s arms settling over his chest that get Logan to relax again. 

“I don’t get angry a lot,” Oscar says slowly. “Obviously. I didn’t even know I could get that angry until the first time someone hurt Logan.”

Logan snorts, “Yeah, my brother was really pleased to hear the kid who kicked him in the nuts at 14 was my boyfriend.”

Alex laughs at the mental image of a young Oscar, who had only ever had sisters, seeing the relationship between two brothers for the first time. Yeah, he could imagine it didn’t end well. 

“The point is it’s not a normal thing,” Oscar continues. “I know how to deal with it most of the time. It’s just-”

“Special circumstance. Totally understandable, man.”

“Don’t encourage him.” Logan turns his pout-glare onto Alex. It reminds him of Ollie. Logan turns as best as he can to look at Oscar. “Don’t feel encouraged by this. I’m still upset with you.”

“Yes, sir,” Oscar says, pressing an appeasing kiss to Logan’s shoulder. Alex can tell from his expression, though, that Oscar would do it all over again if it meant protecting Logan. 

FIA and potential outing be damned.

[homomenhommes]

saga: SOUMISSION / DOMINATION 130

Exhibition en boite

Je passe le samedi après midi à me préparer. Epilation parfaite, la ligne de poils restants est bien droite de ma bite à mon nombril. Rasé de près, je fais une bonne heure de muscu pour bien gonfler mes muscles. Le résultat est plus que correct. Je me prépare le trou en début de soirée ( lavements, graissage en profondeur, plug) et Samir et Ammed viennent me masser le corps avec une huile qui met encore plus mes muscles en valeur. Séchée, ma peau bronzée garde un aspect satiné. Marc admire le résultat et me demande d'être plus souvent aussi nickel. Je le vois bander ferme sous le cuir de son pantalon. Pour moi, il hésite encore sur ma tenue. Comme nous allons en boite en voiture, je ne suis pas obligé aux protections motos. Je teste : jock, jock + short jeans, short jeans seul, marcel ou non, blouson cuir... Pour les pieds c'est facile, chaussettes roulées dans mes caters. Finalement ce sera jock + short jeans coupé, marcel athlétique blanc moulant, perfecto et mon collier à clous.

Malgré mon impatience, nous ne nous pointons à l'entrée qu'après 1h du matin. La boite est pleine, les mecs derrière le bar n'ont pas changés et nous avons droit à un accueil chaleureux, Marc étant félicité pour moi. ;Un des serveurs auquel j'avais tapé dans l'oeil admire ma prise de muscle. Il nous prévient que je ne suis pas le seul de mon " genre " ce soir là, deux couples ont déjà rejoint la backroom. Genre musclé ou soumis ?? Je m'alcoolise un peu et nous glissons dans la partie plus chaude de l'établissement. Notre entrée déclenche pas mal de commentaires. Certain n'hésitant pas à me pincer les fesses ou une hanche. Je suis Marc jusqu'à aux salles à sling. Toutes occupées. Nous repérons les deux autres couples, pour l'un c'est la soumission mais le slave est maigrichon, pour l'autre pas de marque de domination mais un jeune plutôt bien musclé en short moulant à souhait. Marc se rapproche des derniers et propose au " propriétaire " un plan à 4. Je suis jaugé de la tête aux pieds. Quand je sens le regard du mec sur mes caters, je me tourne pour qu'il puisse admirer le coté pile de l'animal. Pas de présentations mais nos " vieux " nous entrainent dans une salle qu'ils vident d'un couple en cours de pipe.

Sur ordre je me rapproche du jeune et nous commençons à nous toucher. Je sens ses muscles rouler sous la pression de mes mains. Les miens (de muscles) font pareil sous les siennes (de mains). Il est bien ferme et nous prenons plaisir à ce massage improvisé. La preuve il déforme le tissu élastique de son shorty et moi je pousse les boutons du jeans de façon pornographique. Mes mains descendent sur sa bite. il me semble que nous soyons pareillement équipé. Ses mains libèrent ma bite de sa prison et elle peut se développer déformant la poche élastique du Jock. Malgré mon collier qui fait de moi un passif soumis, c'est lui qui le premier tombe à genoux pour s'occuper de ma turgescence. Il m'excite trop ce beau mec et ne je ne peux m'empêcher de donner un coup de rein quand je bute sur sa glotte. Il avale vaillamment mes 20cm. On ordre de 69 nous parvient de son mec. Je regarde Marc car nous ne sommes pas Kpotés. Il me fait signe d'y aller. Nous avisons la table basse centrale et après avoir dénudé mon partenaire, je m'y couche sur le dos. Il arrive au dessus de moi en 69. Nous sommes presque de la même taille et nous nous emboitons parfaitement. J'avais raison, il est monté 20cm comme moi. Nous nous pompons un bon moment prenant chacun plaisir à téter une bite de bonne dimension, propre, droite, rasée de près. Marc nous dit de nous relever. L'un a coté de l'autre, une glace nous renvoi notre image. Je n'avais pas remarqué jusque là à quel point nous nous ressemblions tous les deux. Marc et l'autre dominant s'étaient dévêtus pendant notre 69. Correct l'autre mec, un peu plus âgé que Marc mais pas gras pour autant et monté lui aussi correctement (je saurais plus tard un 23 x 6). D'un geste de Marc je me retrouve a sucer le mec de mon sosie et lui fait de même sur le mien. Bien raides, ils nous placent sur le dos cote à cote et kpotés nous enculent virilement. L'autre mec met plus de violence dans ses coups de rein et je me trouve secoué comme un prunier (mais un prunier qui prend son pied !). Il alterne avec Marc et je retrouve de temps en temps les sensations habituelles. Cela me fait apprécier d'autant les exigences de cette nouvelle bite. Je tourne la tête vers mon homologue. Il approche ses lèvres et malgré les soubresauts, nous arrivons à nous rouler un patin qui rajoute à notre plaisir mutuel. Sans se concerter ils remplissent au même moment leurs kpotes, calés au fond de nos culs. Nous jutons de sentir les derniers assauts dans nos cul. Libérés de l'emprise de leurs sexes, je bascule vers mon voisin et nous nous collons pour un patin bien roulé. Nos spermes se mélangent sous la pression de nos abdominaux. Nos hommes nous tendent des Sopalins, nous essuyons nos tablettes et ils nous invitent à nous remettre correct. Au bar, Marc récupère contre un billet de 50, un CD de nos ébats. Alors que je m'attendais à ce que l'on se casse ou que l'on redescende pour un nouveau plan, Marc a invité nos nouveaux amis à passer le reste du WE à la maison.

Dans la voiture au retour, il m'a expliqué qu'en surfant sur internet, il était tombé sur eux et de voir le jeune en photo, me ressemblant comme un jumeau, il n'avait pu s'empêcher d'organiser ce plan. Ils ne sont pas du coin d'où l'invitation. De plus en discutant avec le plus vieux, il s'était aperçu qu'il voulait entrainer son jeune dans une direction plus hard. D'où l'expérience boite et chez nous un passage au donjon. Les analyses de sang échangées l'avaient rassuré quand à leur état sanitaire.

Il est 4h30 quand nous les dirigeons vers une chambre d'amis et leur montrons la salle de bain attenante. Je suis mort de fatigue. La pression, le stress et la baise m'ont vidé de mon énergie, donc dodo.

Quand je me réveille, je suis seul dans le lit et il est déjà plus de 11h. Passage sous la douche, jock sur le cul, je passe devant la chambre de nos invités. J'écoute l'oreille collée à la porte, pas de bruit. Je l'entrouvre et vois mon alter égo couché nu sur le ventre en travers du lit. Après l'avoir maté quelques minutes et ma bite commençant à se réveiller, je me suis approché et j'ai commencé à passer ma langue sur sa colonne vertébrale de haut en bas, jusqu'à la pointe du sacrum. Arrivé là, ma langue a glissé tout naturellement dans son petit trou bien serré. Gémissements puis je sens une bouche me couvrir le gland et une langue tourner dessus. Je lui dilate la rondelle alors qu'il me met en pleine forme. Une kpote plus tard, je défonçais son cul de salope. Nous avons pris un bon plaisir à ce réveil mouvementé. Après avoir giclé, couchés cote à cote sur le grand lit et les yeux perdus dans le blanc du plafond, nous avons récupéré 5mn. Douche ensemble, puis descente à la cuisine, morts de faim. Samir nous y accueille et nous prépare tout ce que nous désirons en nous proposant de nous servir sur la terrasse. Nous y retrouvons nos mâles. J'embrasse mon Marc alors que le jeune reste bloqué devant la piscine. Il finit par dire bonjour au sien (de mec). Choses faites, je le pousse dans l'eau et nous chahutons avant de nager convenablement. Nous ne sortons de l'eau que quand Ammed nous apporte notre petit déjeuner. Alors que nous dévorons (baise plus natation !) Marc fait les présentations. Le vieux = Alexandre soit Alex, deux ans de plus que Marc Le jeune = Johan a un an de moins que moi.

Nous enchainons avec un déjeuner auquel Johan et moi ne faisons pas trop honneur vu ce que l'on vient de s'enfiler. Petite sieste bronzante, le tartinage de crème nous ayant permis de vérifier l'état d'excitabilité de nos organes, cela augurait bien pour la fin de journée.

Réveillé le premier, j'attrape Johan par un bras et une jambe et l'envoie à l'eau avant qu'il ait le temps de réagir. Ses éclaboussures réveillent nos hommes alors que je plonge. Ils nous rejoignent. Nage et caresses, quand nous sortons, les maillots et jock sont bien déformés. Marc a décidé de leur montrer notre donjon. Draps de bain enroulés à la taille, tongs aux pieds, nous traversons la cour. Un peu de mise en scène pour la découverte de notre salle des plaisirs, entrée dans le noir et éclairages spots sur quelques agrès. Grand silence, Marc le rompe en leur disant que c'était mon oeuvre (j'aime bien quand il le dit, en plus que c'est vrai, ça fait toujours plaisir).

Nous avançons, j'explique les différents postes même si certains seraient passés de commentaires. Pour finir, j'éclaire la partie sanitaire. J'arrache la serviette des reins de Johan et fait tomber la mienne. Je le pousse sous les douches t ouvre les robinets. Je commence à le savonner sensuellement. Il fait de même sur moi avec un temps de retard. J'insiste sur sa rondelle et la sent s'ouvrir doucement. J'attrape une canule et la lui enfonce dans le trou. Surprise mais pas de retrait. J'ouvre l'eau lentement et lui explique l'affaire. Une fois plein, il se retient puis cour vite aux toilettes se vider. Je le lui répète 3 fois avant qu'il ne me dise que c'est tout propre. Je lui demande de me faire la même chose et me retrouve propre dessus comme dedans rapidement.

Alex a été très intéressé par le spectacle et bande comme un malade, Marc aussi d'ailleurs ! J'amène son Johan devant notre selle spéciale, celle équipé d'une assise godée. Il ouvre de grand yeux car le gode en place est notre monstre de 28cm ! Je le rassure et je change l'engin, mettant en place un gode de 21 x 5,5. Faut toujours se goder plus petit que les bites réelles que nous allons prendre. C'est meilleur quand il reste un peu de travail à nos enculeurs.

Pour la démo, je graisse le gode et mon cul avant de monter en appui sur les étriers. Doucement je plis les jambes et viens poser ma rosette sur le gland. Marc me dit d'y aller doucement. Mm par mm je le fais entrer en moi, putain que ça me chauffe les cuisses ! Mais les yeux de Johan et Alex ne quittent pas ma rondelle en train de se faire élargir. Une fois assis sur le cuir, je me relève et saute à terre en disant à Johan de grimper à son tour. Très excité il monte. Je mets une kpote sur le gode que je lubrifie. Je le conseille pendant toute sa descente, quand il pose son cul sur le gland en plastique mais aussi jusqu'à ce qu'il soit complètement envahi. Son mec est ravi, je conseille à Johan de faire faire quelques pas à sa monture avant d'entamer un trot puis un galop. Les limages lents, ça va. Le trot lui pose quelques soucis avec ses couilles qui ne remontent pas assez à la base de sa tige. Je prend les choses en main et équipe ses couilles d'un parachute en cuir équipé d'une chaine suffisamment longue pour venir se clipser sur un collier en cuir que je lui attache autour du cou. Ainsi harnaché, quand il se tient droit, ses couilles sont tirées vers le haut et il ne se les écrase plus entre contre la selle.

Il reprend le trot sans interruption ce coup ci. Il commence à trop apprécier l'exercice et nous le sentons près de l'éjaculation. Nous le stoppons. Je l'aide à descendre et ce faisant lui glisse trois doigts dans son cul. Le gode l'a bien ouvert ! Marc nous indique les slings. J'installe Johan dans l'un, lui fixant les chevilles et les poignets aux chaînes de suspente et règle les hauteur pour que sa bouche et son cul soient à la bonne hauteur, celle des bites bandées de nos maîtres. Choses faites, je m'installe à mon tour sur le sling adjacent. Attaché par Marc et réglé de même, je subis les premiers assauts, histoire de montrer à Johan ce qui l'attend.

Première étape, il me prennent tous les deux la bouche puis la gorge, enfonçant mon nez dans leurs toisons pubiennes. J'encaisse sans broncher les passages de leurs glands derrière mon pharynx. Ils me liment la gorge quelques instants avant de passer à Johan. Ce dernier ayant bien noté ma tête rejetée en arrière, fait de même à l'approche de la bite de Marc. Mon homme s'enfonce délicatement, je le vois buter puis continuer sa progression. Il se retire rapidement, avant que Johan ne s'étouffe. Il n'en sort complètement que quand ce dernier a rythmé sa respiration. Alex le remplace et plus directement, lui envoi ses 23cm entiers. Johan tousse une fois mais se reprend et les fois d'après, encaisse comme un pro. En attendant, Marc est venu faire entretenir sa raideur par ma bouche.

Passage à nos anus. Là pas d'entrainement à faire, un peu de gel sur les kpotes et nous voilà embrochés comme des dindes de Noël. Nos hommes s'échangent nos corps plusieurs fois et nous comparent. La conclusion, je suis un passif beaucoup plus actif que Johan qui serait un passif passif. Il est vrai que je ne suis uniquement passif qu'avec les mecs plus âgés que moi. Avec les autres c'est selon le feeling.

En attendant je remarque que Johan prend bien son pied à être dans cette situation, attaché, utilisé. Il bande comme un malade et ne tarde pas à juter sans même que sa bite soit sollicitée. Pas mal la quantité, il se couvre les abdos de son sperme blanc. Certains jets tombent sur ses pecs et un atteint même son menton. Marc qui à ce moment là est en train de lui ramoner le cul, se retrouve pris dans ses convulsions et il arrive juste à déculer avant d'ajouter une couche de sperme. Alex doublement excité par mon anus et la vue de son minet et train de jouir, se bloque au fond de mon trou et se vide dans sa kpote. Je pulse mon anneau sur sa bite histoire d'en rajouter question stimuli. Il suffit qu'Alex me touche la queue et je jute à mon tour. Je lèche mes lèvres où deux éjaculations ont propulsé mon sperme. Ça me vaut d'être traité de salope ! Tout ça parce qu'on aime son sperme !! c'est franchement injuste.

Une fois détachés, une bonne douche prise avec mon " jumeau " nous nous sommes retrouvés à finir l'après midi au bord de la piscine. Rejoints par Jimmy, présenté comme un fils d'ami. Pas la peine d'entrer dans les détails pour le moment. Johan et moi avons été amusé de sa réaction car tombant sur Johan en maillot, il avait commencé à lui parler comme si c'était moi. Comme je suis intervenu rapidement avant qu'il ne dise un truc inavouable, il a pousser de gros yeux ronds, stupéfait de notre ressemblance.

Marc à promis que nous nous reverrions (avec Alex et Johan) et que nous ferions le déplacement la prochaine fois. Moi je suis très excité par Johan.

JARDINIER

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[mickey-g-classsics]

Harrys cafe de wheels

[identifying-cars-in-posts]

big fan of your posts mate. opinions on aussie utes?

i want an hsv maloo so bad oh my god. you guys get a MUSCLE UTE y’all got some of the sickest cars and i’m so mad we don’t get any of them in the states. honestly i’d kill to import a sandman too, i know everyone loves the panel van but i love the sandman ute so so much

[palafoxiana]

Mes jouets préférés

Je n'ai jamais offert de fleurs à mes maitresses, préférant laisser cette galanterie à leurs maris. Lorsque je choisissais un bijou, c'était un plug anal orné d'un joli cristal Swarovski, un collier ras du cou, rappelant discrètement leur soumission ou l'un de ces multiples dildos inertes, vibrants, aspirants, de formes et de tailles variées.

Il me plaisait de leur offrir en leur expliquant ce que j'attendais d'elles. Comment le porter, quand, combien de temps, à quelles occasions.

Mais mes jouets privilégiés, c'étaient elles ! Objets de mon désir, tout à la fois le but et l'outil de ma jouissance.

T'en souviens-tu Magalie ? Assis dans un de ces fauteuils crapaud qu'on trouve fréquemment dans les chambres d'hôtel, je te regardais me sucer à genou entre mes jambes. Tu avalais ma bite consciencieusement comme je t'avais appris à le faire, alternant le rythme de tes allers-retours et la profondeur de tes aspirations. Le gland profondément engoncé dans ta gorge, je t'avais demandé de ne plus bouger le temps que je te passe un joli collier de soumission en velours noir, orné d'un cristal de même facture et de même couleur que celui du plug planté dans ton anus. Ta position était inconfortable. Ton nez collé se tordait contre mon pubis rendant ta respiration difficile. Mais comme toujours, tu obéissais. Lorsque j'eu terminé de le nouer, je t'invitais à te relever pour l'admirer dans le miroir.

Suceuse banale et sans entrain, je t'avais initiée au plaisir de donner du plaisir, de contrôler celui de ton amant jusqu'à sa jouissance. A force de discussions et d'encouragements, tu avais surmonté tes réticences à garder ma liqueur en bouche, puis à l'avaler. Depuis, tu ne manquais plus de venir recueillir du bout des lèvres chaque goutte et paillette de foutre qui aurait pu échapper à ta bouche. Je t'ai aussi appris que cette toilette intime était indispensable pour prolonger le plaisir de la jouissance qu'elle qu'en fut l'intensité.

T'en souviens-tu Lorelei ? Ton anus était vierge jusqu'à moi et j'ai joué longtemps avec ta petite rosace, avant que tu me laisses la pénétrer. D'abord des lèvres et de la langue. Combien de cris et de crispations m'a-t-il fallu affronter avant de pouvoir y insérer un doigt ! Ce jour-là, je te bouffais la chatte avec gourmandise, léchant et aspirant ton clitoris en alternance. Lorsque ton corps tout entier se banda, je stoppais mes caresses et relevais la tête. Tu hurlas comme une bête, folle de plaisir contrarié en t'abandonnant totalement, bras ouverts, crucifiée. Tes muscles se relâchaient après tant de crispations et je pu sans mal pénétrer ton cul de mon majeur trempé de mouille. Je repris doucement la succion de ton bouton en t'enculant de mon doigt par de lents va et viens. Tu connus ce jour-là une jouissance inédite.

Alors j'ai pu t'offrir l'incontournable plug, pas trop gros mais assez lourd pour qu'il pèse sur ton anus lorsque tu le portais plusieurs heures par jour. Et même avec l'habitude, tu ne pouvais ignorer sa présence. L'insérer, l'ôter, une ou deux fois par jour selon mon humeur du moment, t'a permis d'apprendre à contrôler tes sphincters et à leur imposer la souplesse nécessaire pour te faire sodomiser sans risque de blessure. Nous y avons pris beaucoup de plaisir tous les trois car je me souviens avec quelle fierté tu m'as raconté comment tu avais initié ton mari à cette pratique !

Je t'ai offert plus tard un autre plug anal muni d'une fausse queue de renard. Elle marquait un petit renflement sous tes jupes qui me laissait la deviner et j'adorais la découvrir lorsque tu te déshabillait. Je t'ai demandé plusieurs fois de la garder chez toi pour dormir mais ton mari n'a jamais eu l'idée de soulever ta nuisette ces jours-là. Tant pis pour lui !

T'en souviens-tu Aïda ? Ta pudibonderie outragée, malmenée, abattue. A force de plaisirs que je contrariais savamment, tu as du abandonner chacune de tes lignes de défense. Toi qui n'osais pas te montrer nue devant moi à notre premier rendez-vous, je t'ai amené à abolir toute pudeur, repoussant les limites de ton désir et t'apprenant à t'offrir.

Tu as marché nue devant moi, ne portant qu'un seul escarpin. J'observais avec intérêt ta démarche boiteuse qui tordait tes hanches et faisait balloter tes seins. Je t'ai fais tourner dans la chambre quelques minutes ainsi, mains croisées derrière la tête. parfois je t'arrêtais pour fouiller ton sexe trempé et te faisais lécher mes doigts. Impossible pour toi de nier ton excitation ! Tu devais laisser la porte des toilettes ouverte pour que je puisse t'observer si l'envie m'en prenait. Et je l'ai fais souvent Aïda, essuyant ta vulve avec un gant humide et tiède après que tu aies uriné. Je t'ai demandé de te donner du plaisir pendant que je te regardais faire. Et bien sûr , tu as obéi. Alors je t'ai offert un de ces jouets Womanizer, si efficaces qu'ils sont capables de t'amener à l'orgasme en quelques secondes ! Et je devine que tu te masturbes encore avec.

T'en souviens-tu Alimatou ? Ta peau noire marquée par ma ceinture. J'ai aimé te fouetter plus que toute autre. Et plusieurs mois après le premier coup qui a mordu ta chair, tu m'avouais ne plus pouvoir jouir sans te faire chauffer les sangs. Bien qu'aimant ton mari, ta relation conjugale te paraissait bien terne et tu devais simuler ton plaisir. Nos rendez-vous provoquaient chez toi d'agréables frissons plusieurs jours avant et nous avons joui tous deux grisés par le gout de l'interdit.

D'abord à quatre pattes sur le lit, tu m'as offerts ton cul pour une simple fessée, mais je n'aime pas le côté enfantin de cette pratique. Je t'ai administré un coup de ceinture de cuir tressée. Souple et solide, cette ceinture me permettait de doser la morsure que je souhaitais t'infliger. Surprise, tu t'es retournée pour voir avec quel ustensile je t'avais fouettée. Tu m'as souris, tu as baissé la tête, creusé les reins et tendu les fesses vers moi. Je t'ai fouetté à nouveau. Ta peau virait au rouge et je voyais couler un peu de cyprine au creux de tes cuisses. Je te masturbais un moment en caressant ton cul en feu. Tu as jouis ainsi, le cul en l'air, la tête entre les mains, deux de mes doigts plantés dans ton con, mon pouce dans ton cul.

Le cul n'y suffisant plus, j'ai marqué tes cuisses et tes reins, fouetté ton ventre et tes seins merveilleux, ton dos aussi. Tu m'as demandé de te bâillonner pour que je puisse frapper plus fort en étouffant tes cris. Tu m'as demandé de te lier les mains pour t'empêcher de te protéger et de fouetter toujours plus fort et plus longtemps. Malgré la violence des coups, jamais tu ne t'es servi de notre Safe Word. Je finissais par te libérer. Epuisée mais toujours souriante, tu collais contre ma peau la partie brulante de ton corps que je venais de malmener et nous faisions l'amour ainsi.

Je te prenais par le cul lorsqu'il était encore incandescent. Je baisais ta bouche en jouant de mes mains avec ton ventre et ton pubis endoloris, je plongeais mon sexe dans ton vagin inondé en malaxant tes seins zébrés et en en pinçant doucement les tétons. Je mis fin à notre relation avant qu'elle ne dégénère totalement.

T'en souviens-tu Bernadetta ? L'amour à tout moment et en tous lieux. Le risque de se faire prendre pimentait chacune de nos rencontres. Nous avions soif de l'autre, constamment. Je ne pouvais rester près de toi plusieurs minutes sans chercher à te pénétrer avec mes doigts, ma langue ou ma bite ! Ton désir transpirait jusqu'au mien et nous nous sommes reconnus dès notre premier rendez-vous.

J'ai mené ton entretien de recrutement avec le plus grand sérieux. J'étais particulièrement concentré afin de ne pas me laissé distraire par le jeu de tes regards et sourires charmeurs. Tu me plaisais et tu l'as très vite perçu. Tu en jouais pour obtenir un poste, c'était de bonne guerre. Je terminais l'entretien en te promettant une réponse rapide. Nous nous sommes serré la main pour nous saluer et tu as gardé la mienne plus longtemps que l'usage ne le permet habituellement. Tes doigts imprimaient un subtile massage sur le dos de ma main. Tu as levé les yeux en souriant. Tes yeux étaient humides, tes lèvres étaient humides..

Nous nous sommes laissé tomber au sol, bouche contre bouche, corps contre corps. Avec des gestes imprécis d'homme pressé, je t'ai peloter sans ménagement puis j'ai glissé vers ton sexe pour m'en gaver et m'en abreuver jusqu'à plus soif. Tu as jouis comme par surprise.

Nous nous sommes relevés. Après avoir tiré les rideaux de la fenêtre donnant sur la rue, je t'ai demandé de te déshabiller. Une fois nue, je t'ai fais poser les coudes sur mon bureau. Tes seins pendaient mais ne se balançaient pas. Je les empoignaient. Ils étaient très fermes, presque durs. Une main sur le dos, l'autre sur le ventre, je mesurais l'élasticité parfaite de tes chairs. Tu étais toute menue mais gardais des hanches rondes et un cul confortable. Je fouillais de mes doigts ton sexe et ton anus sans que tu y trouves à redire. Je finissais par glisser mes mains le long de tes jambes que j'écartais encore un peu. Tu subis l'examen avec un plaisir non dissimulé. La cyprine coulait le long de ta fente et dans les poils pubiens. Je m'assis dans mon fauteuil et t'ordonna de me sucer. Cette première pipe cella notre relation particulière, à la fois professionnelle et sexuelle, efficace et passionnée.

Nous avons baisé dans les endroits et à des moments les plus inattendus. Cinéma, train, avion, voiture, parking, vestiaires de théâtre, toilettes publiques, entre les cartons d'une remises, cuisine de restaurant, chambres, spa extérieur, église, forêt, bureaux, chaufferie, buanderie, cave à vin, couloir d'hôtel.. Tu m'as sucé pendant un repas (tu t'étais glissé sous la table avant le service), je t'ai masturbée et tu as jouis dans la file d'attente un soir d'opéra, tu m'as chevauché à la nuit tombée dans la voiture garée dans une rue particulièrement passante, sous les fenêtres de ton appartement où ton mari t'attendait, tu es venue t'assoir sur mes genoux dans une brasserie de gare avant mon départ pour plusieurs jours en ayant préalablement pris soin de dégager mon sexe et de me faire bander pour t'empaler dessus en t'asseyant. Ma seule sodomie assise et en public à ce jour ! Nous nous sommes beaucoup et bien amusés tous les deux.